Mr Beem's Asian Journal
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through Singapore |
I have never really experienced culture shock before, but I certainly did when I sailed from Sumatra to Singapore. I got off the ferry and the pace just seemed to double, everyone was in a hurry. I passed through immigration and I was just another number, not a strange white man on a motorcycle, just a number, no questions, no special attention.
Everything was clean and I felt shabby and out of place. I found a café and ordered a coffee and a croissant, I had not had one of those for a while. When I paid the bill that was another shock…these were first world prices. I picked up one of the many brochure lined neatly in a rack and started looking for a hotel. I decided on the YMCA. It had the right address, Number 1, Orchard Road, smack in the middle of town. I asked the waitress about a bus and she new exactly which stop and which number bus…she like everyone else spoke perfect English. The Indian bus driver dropped me off a hundred metres from the hotel and I had a little look at the malls as I crossed the road.
I had arrived in Singapore toward the end of their SARS epidemic and that was the main topic on everyone mind. The ‘Y’ was offering a 30% discount as they were having a tough time filling rooms with the sudden drop in tourism so I got a good deal for a private room which would have been a credit to a four star hotel, and I had complimentary use off all the facilities and breakfast was included, all for fifty five Singapore dollars.
Once I got settled in, I rang Jerome Chong, who I had met on the Net. He is part of Horizonsunlimiteds Singapore Community and he was keen to show me around and make sure that I met the right people.
With Jerome and a 'Singapore Sling'
Jerome arranged for me to go to a BMW meeting the following evening and then to meet him after for a late dinner. I took a taxi to the Performance Motors showroom as that is the base for the bike owners club, to meet the guys. They were getting ready to do a ride through Malaysia and suggested that I might join them as I was going that way. They were all riding the Big Beamers, GS’s, RT’s, RS’s, and all that good stuff. So Mr Beem was the baby of the pack, which was a bit of a shock.
I got a pillion ride with one off the guys and we met Jerome and a couple of his friends at a waterside restaurant and had a late seafood supper. Most of the conversation was about SARS, bikes, the government and various fines that the guys had manage to acquire in resent weeks. We spoke some more about the Malaysia trip and went to an Indian run kerbside teashop for a nightcap. Next day I went to the Zoo, which was great:
One of the Inmates
I then spent the rest of the day doing what Singaporeans do best – shopping.
I had to get Mr Beem out of customs. I had shipped him from Lae in Papua New Guinea to Singapore as the Indonesians had not allowed me to ride him through their country because of all sorts of reasons which all boil down to bureaucracy gone mad.
MrBeem in his packing case
The shipping agent had never dealt with a motorcycle before so we were learning together. Actually I was paying, he was learning. The up-shot of the exercise was that if I wanted to ride the Bike in Singapore it would cost me a little over three hundred Singapore dollars for three days…not a very good deal. That was made up of insurance, and various other little extra such as the RTA, automated road toll system, so I opted to put the bike on the back of a truck and drive to the causeway that leads to Malaysia, that would only cost one hundred and fifty dollars. So that is what I did.
Re-united !
In between organising that, Jerome came around and took me out to dinner with his family and to a couple of other restaurants which was incredibly generous of him. I went to the movies and had a sampling of the international fast food restaurants, which made a nice change.
I left for Malaysia the day before the rest of the BMW gang so that I could clear Customs and Immigration and get a new set of road tyres put on the bike. I had knobble tyres on for the Indonesian trip that did not happen, but they were not suitable for the highways, so in Lahore Malaysia I refitted the original Metzlers that came with the bike.
Next morning Jerome came to the hotel at five thirty to pick me up and take me to the rendezvous at a café so I could meet the rest of the BMW riders, he must have got up at four a.m. We left while it was still dark; we were running a little late so he was in a hurry. I forgot to mention that this would be the first time that I had ever driven the bike at over 60 kilometres for more than five minutes in my whole life. It was dark and drizzling and I didn’t know where I was going , but I was going there at 140 kilometres an hour and not really enjoying it. But we made it, and in time for a nice noodle soup.
The BMW Riders
What was really special about this was that Jerome was not going on the ride himself, he had gone to all this trouble just to make sure that I could.
Sugar-palms in the Rice Paddies
