Before I knew it, I’d written a mini history of Singapore.

Aside from running, the way I build an intimate relationship with a city is by cycling through it. I’ve lived in Singapore for quite a while and have biked here before, but only for everyday transportation. I’d never done a long ride as a way of having a real conversation with the city.

That day, I was lying there bored out of my mind, staring at the ceiling, when the thought suddenly popped into my head: why not bike all the way around the island? Adrenaline kicked in immediately. Once the idea was there, I had to do it. I got up, checked routes, picked an auspicious day, and got ready to go.

01. Setting Off

I chose to set out on Eid al-Fitr, mainly for the fun of celebrating alongside my Muslim brothers. I even deliberately picked the starting point at "", because apparently I’m a sucker for ritual.

Old Raffles first set foot on this land here 124 years ago. Over the century that followed, this little red dot went from a sparsely populated fishing village to one of the Far East’s top-tier metropolises, moving at what felt like 70 miles an hour.

Raffles was a good comrade, always keen on investment and development, and not exactly the strong-arm type, so he still enjoys a pretty solid reputation here. Singaporeans have named all kinds of good things after him: Raffles Hotel, Raffles Institution, and even CapitaLand’s “Raffles City” name back in China ultimately comes from him too.

I even met Indonesians who sighed and said they wished Raffles hadn’t returned Java to those Dutch colonizers back then.

If I’m going to inspect the empire he carved out, I might as well first stop by and pay my respects to the founding master.

My clever plan to beat the blazing sun by starting early was completely crushed by a torrential downpour. I got up absurdly early only to end up late anyway, but at least a cool, damp breeze kept me company.

02. Marina Bay in Drizzle

In the early morning, Clarke Quay sheds all of its nighttime glitz and booze-soaked energy and turns back into something almost innocent. Following the riverbank and passing those classic colonial-era buildings, you soon spot the Merlion standing there obediently.

Even first thing in the morning, people were already playing the classic “I’m catching the Merlion’s spit” photo game. Some traditions never die.

Behind it, the gleaming “big durian” wasn’t what impressed me most because of its top-tier performances. What I admire more is the open foyer space, which gives local unknown artists a chance to perform every night. From then on, they can proudly add one more line to their résumé: “Performed at Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay.”

Then it started raining again, so I did a lap. Along the way there were always people running, dancing, doing HIIT and yoga, and there was even one guy doing handstands.

Marina Bay Sands has always been far beyond my spending range, so let’s fast-forward to the place behind it, another spot I can’t stop thinking about. Every time I come here, I’m drawn to photographing the glass curtain wall outside the Flower Dome. Later, at the airport, I saw HSBC’s newest giant ad and realized it was shot from exactly the same angle.

Here’s a nighttime view too. Absolutely stunning.

Looking down over the entire Gardens by the Bay from the top of Marina Bay Sands? Even more stunning.

On the other side, Marina Bay at night glows in pure gold—one of Southeast Asia’s brightest scenes.

Who even came up with this—building such a dreamy, almost Avatar-like garden on reclaimed land? If you come to Singapore and skip Marina Bay, I simply won’t allow it.

03. Smitten With the East Coast

After crossing the Marina Barrage, I entered the East Coast. East Coast is forever my absolute favorite.

It was my first time coming to the East Coast this early. The coconut palms and sea breeze were as gentle as ever, and the mottled shadows of trees on my face, mixed with the morning glow, felt like your hand passing through my hair. Out on the horizon, the sky had been dyed a brilliant gold.

I almost got lost in the East Coast’s softness, but the countless cargo ships anchored offshore reminded me that this is still a serious shipping capital.

If you ask what cycling in Singapore is like, it’s really a tale of two very different experiences. Urban commuting is basically a nightmare: sweating through roads with constant ups and downs, weaving around pedestrians on sidewalks, and feeling your heart race in traffic lanes. I’ve never once arrived exactly on time based on the map’s estimate.

Leisure cycling, on the other hand, feels like heaven. After all, this is a garden city, with more than 400 parks of all sizes scattered across the island like someone casually tossed a handful of pearls onto the ground.

The National Parks Board ambitiously built the PCN (Park Connector Network), using more than 360 kilometers of dedicated cycling paths to link parks large and small, encouraging everyone to ride in style and ride with skill.

That makes sense, really. In the government’s early planning, bicycles were treated mainly as a recreational tool for residents. But in the 2019 Land Transport Master Plan 2040, the goal shifted toward building a bicycle-friendly city: redesigning streets and creating an islandwide cycling network. I’m looking forward to that day.

When it comes to sports atmosphere, East Coast Park is absolutely number one in my heart, and I’m not accepting any arguments. Every time I come here, just seeing all the like-minded people around me makes my athletic cells start multiplying uncontrollably. No matter how tired I am, I can instantly merge right into the surging crowd of people out exercising.

Facing the sea and the sunset, you feel like you could keep running all the way to the moon.

Clearly, I’m not the only one who loves the East Coast.

There are many public campsites along the shore. Camping may have cooled off back in China, but here it’s still a well-loved pastime. From what I’ve observed, South Asian families seem especially common. Maybe in 2023, when CPI has already shot into outer space, bringing the whole family to East Coast for a weekend barbecue and camping trip counts as entertainment with manageable, controllable costs.

After more than a dozen kilometers of coastline, I still hated to say goodbye and wanted to ride it countless more times.

04. A Big Loop Around Changi

At Changi, I made a neat, boxy turn.

As the world’s best airport for years on end, there’s no need to explain how impressive it is. But here’s a bit of history: Changi T1 began construction in 1975, during Singapore’s darkest hour before dawn. Why reclaim land to build an airport at a time like that? You have to say that Lee Kuan Yew, like Deng Xiaoping in China, was defined by one thing above all: vision. A modern international airport could supercharge the economy, and the land reclamation itself also left enormous room for future development.

Over the nearly 50 years since then, Changi has stayed busy with constant expansion and repeated renovations. T1, T2, T3, T4—if nothing else, this airport proves one thing: it’s not just the Japanese or the Germans who can take things to the highest level. We Chinese can do that too. When it doesn’t happen, it has nothing to do with ethnicity.

The latest Jewel Changi was converted from a parking lot. Apparently that felt too small-time, so they went ahead and built an unprecedented airport retail complex instead. Keeping aviation charges among the lowest while becoming one of the world’s highest-grossing airports is probably something the people building walls by the Yellow River could never understand.

I’m looking forward to T5, which in ten years might be competing somewhere out in the solar system.

I sped down a ruler-straight road so long it felt like a bicycle could take off, yet the map showed almost nothing around me. Then I realized that on my left was an air force base with F16s parked there, on my right was a naval base frequented by the Seventh Fleet, and not far ahead on Tekong Island was an army training base. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by all three branches of the military.

That long straightaway is heaven for cyclists. Road bikes flew past in the distance, leaving my little green bike so far behind I couldn’t even see their taillights.

I nervously turned into Changi Beach, nicknamed Jeju-on-the-Slope. Reeds swayed, the breeze was gentle, and with planes in all kinds of liveries taking off and landing overhead, I finally started to relax.

A small pond was enclosed here—true sea-and-sky-as-one scenery.

This probably counts as the countryside, considering it only dares call itself Changi Village. In the distance is Pulau Ubin, reached by boat and often described as Singapore’s last village. It has only a little over twenty indigenous households, and the island chief, village head, and bicycle-shop owner are all the same person.

05. Under the Punggol Sun

From Changi at the far east end, I turned west. Once I left my beloved PCN, I was swallowed back up by city roads. I passed through Pasir Ris, which has plenty of character, but I was in too foul a mood at the time to get into it.

Until I reached Punggol.

The last time I came to Punggol was, well, the last time I came to Punggol. I was obsessed with the idea of buying a home here, even though people joked I was practically buying outside the country.

All because of One Punggol and the waterfront promenade.

One Punggol is a community hub, and half of it is a hawker center. After getting used to the old-school but full-of-life hawker centers in the city, I was genuinely stunned when I came to One Punggol. Apparently in Singapore it’s not just Web3.0 anymore—the hawker center has gone 3.0 too.

Hawker centers have a long history in Singapore—long enough to cultivate the “wonderful” habit of Singaporeans not cooking at home. Descended from street-stall culture and later systematically gathered by the government into fixed venues, hawker centers have become a must-have in every new community development. A simple meal for S$5 or S$6 is just everyday life in Singapore.

Places like Chinatown Complex Food Centre, Maxwell Food Centre, and Lau Pa Sat helped elevate Singapore’s hawker culture into the ranks of UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage.

When Michelin first came to Singapore in 2016, it had to pay respects to this local dining heavyweight. So Mr. Chan, who had spent his entire life making soy sauce chicken rice in Chinatown, found himself standing alongside top French and Japanese chefs to receive his own Michelin star.

This section was originally titled “Punggol Nasi Lemak,” because Punggol may not have geese, but it does have famous nasi lemak. This Malay national dish, with rice infused with the distinctive creamy fragrance of pandan leaves, is something you definitely shouldn’t miss.

A meal came to about RMB 50, which isn’t bad.

After eating, in the hottest part of the afternoon, I simply took a nap in a corner of the newly built library.

When I opened my eyes, two hours had passed, so I hurried back on the road. I mentioned earlier that the waterfront promenade is another reason I love Punggol. With a river nearby and the sea close at hand, water is the theme of this little town.

The Wave Walk is one of the area’s newer Instagrammable spots.

Just imagine it: after dinner at sunset, the whole family out walking together. Honestly, I just wanted to stay in Punggol and never go home.

06. Sembawang, My Favorite

Continuing west from Punggol, I passed the old Seletar Airport, crossed the dam, and went through Yishun, another one of those same-model towns.

I hadn’t planned to go to Sembawang. At first, I only went there to see a small house.

Instead, I unexpectedly found a place facing the sea, as lovely as spring in bloom.

Sembawang Park is tiny—so tiny that with a slight zoom on the map, it disappears. The moment I entered and saw the warm little benches, I suddenly felt a sense of inner peace.

A group of kids were playing rugby on the lawn. Growing up in an environment like this must be a pretty happy thing.

Hands off the handlebars, I coasted downhill and reached the shore in no time. The seawater was so restorative that half a day’s worth of fatigue vanished at once. There’s no better kind of travel surprise than that.

Today’s clouds turned the opposite shore into a city beneath the clouds.

There’s a black-and-white house in the park that blends British and Southeast Asian styles: Beaulieu House, now a restaurant. My hard-working little green bike deserved to be in the photo too (this is where the sponsorship fee should go).

It reminded me of the similar Corner House in the Botanic Gardens, where I was lucky enough not long ago to catch one last meal before it closed after ten years in operation.

These black-and-white houses trace their roots to the Tudor style popular in the late Victorian era, while also incorporating tropical living elements from the East: broad verandas, wide eaves, and tall shuttered windows. They used to be homes for senior British officials; now they’re among Singapore’s best residential properties.

07. Gazing Toward Malaya

Leaving Sembawang, I began the second half of the journey. Not far from here is Woodlands, Singapore’s checkpoint to Malaysia.

Across the narrow strait and bridge lies Johor Bahru, once marketed by Country Garden as Singapore’s backyard. Its unfinished towers stretched China’s property bust into Asia and carried the heartbreak of countless would-be buyers.

In fact, the relationship between little “Slope” and Malaysia used to be far closer than it is now. Singapore became independent in 1965. Generally speaking, colonial independence is won through bloodshed and struggle, or at the very least through nonviolent resistance. But Singapore was the exception: it was effectively kicked out by Malaysia.

At the time, Malay leaders in Malaysia’s dominant ethnic group were consumed by paranoia, worrying day and night that Singapore’s large Chinese population would overshadow them, so they pushed through a vote and sent their little brother packing overnight.

Lee Kuan Yew, meanwhile, very much did not want to leave. He felt the road ahead was uncertain, to the point that he broke down sobbing at the independence press conference, while Kuala Lumpur celebrated with firecrackers across the city.

What else could Singapore do? It relied on the resilience of its Chinese community, deft diplomacy among major powers, and the heaven-sent advantage of the Strait of Malacca, and somehow turned a tiny patch of land into a blessed place people now flock to.

Good thing Malaysians have that inherited go-with-the-flow, lie-flat mindset—otherwise I’d probably wake up in the middle of the night mad at myself.

One pleasant surprise in Woodlands was stumbling across a mysterious tree hollow tucked inside a residential neighborhood. I loved it.

07. Heartbreak in Kranji

I was chasing a beautiful sunset glow and somehow forgot to follow the map, wandering deep into the back roads until I hit a dead end.

I came across a large compound, and the guard waved me off, saying the road didn’t go through. I was curious what these container-style metal buildings in such a remote area were for, so I pulled out my phone and looked it up. It said Kranji Lodge 1 (the first migrant worker dormitory).

It was right around quitting time, and truck after truck was bringing migrant workers back from job sites all over to the dorm area. It was probably one of the few chances they had all day to relax. They walked back to their rooms in groups, carrying the food handed out that day.

I suddenly felt a little heartsick. Singapore is polished and glamorous, yes, but behind that shine is the labor of as many as 1.5 million low-wage migrant workers from South Asia and China. I’m sure conditions are much better than in Qatar, but seeing the current living situation still made me feel there’s room to do better.

Among all the dark faces, I spotted one familiar Chinese face, wearing headphones and quietly listening to something. I wondered what he was thinking in that moment.

On the embankment from Kranji toward Sungei Buloh, I ran into an unbelievably brilliant sunset. I wonder if the workers saw it too.

09. Wild West

I never expected to smell cow manure in Singapore.

And I definitely didn’t expect Singapore to have more than one farm.

As night fell, I entered a stretch of land in the far west of Singapore. Suddenly that familiar smell of cow dung drifted through the air, bringing back wonderful memories of hiking in Yunnan and Xinjiang.

Good grief—along this stretch alone, there were seven or eight farms in a row, each specializing in something different: Hay Dairies, Bollywood Veggies, Quan Fa Organic Farm, Qian Hu Fish Farm, Qian Hu Fish Farm, Jurong Frog Farm (so maybe Geylang’s frog porridge really does source from here), and more.

During the pandemic, when imports became difficult, local vegetable farms stepped up and helped fill a large part of the demand gap.

There didn’t seem to be much else to see out in the wilderness, so I just kept pedaling hard until I reached Nanyang Technological University. My first close encounter with NTU turned out to be a plate of mixed rice in the cafeteria. Very on-brand for a foodie like me.

There was no time to soak up any academic atmosphere before I had to get back on the road. Riding back into town from the Jurong industrial area, the scenery changed completely. The cozy pastoral vibe gave way to a steel-and-concrete cyberpunk landscape.

Honestly, by this point I was so exhausted I barely knew who I was anymore. All I wanted was a bed to collapse into—just like now, writing this, all I want is to wrap things up.

10. Arrival

With the final three kilometers left, I felt a little reluctant for it to end. But I finally rode back. From this day on, I’m officially someone who has biked all the way around the country.

Clarke Quay was only occasionally noisy at midnight. Time to report back to the master: I finished the ride safely and stayed true to my original intention.

Short version of the round-Singapore route: Clarke Quay - Merlion Park - Marina Bay Sands - Gardens by the Bay - Marina Barrage - East Coast Park - Tanah Merah Coast Road - Changi Bay - Pasir Ris Park - Lorong Halus Red Bridge - Punggol Waterway Park - Yishun Dam - Sembawang Park - Woodlands Jetty - Kranji Way - Nanyang Technological University - Boon Lay - Pandan Reservoir - VivoCity - Tanjong Pagar - Clarke Quay

About the Author

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