A May Day

I took a few photos around Singapore today. Part of a personal project I am doing (if it is for someone but they don't know it yet and it is not for work, it's a 'personal' project, yes?).

The weather is kind to me. I pass by Revenue House and recall coming here many years ago to pay my tax because I had left it to the last day. Gillstead Road, then Moulmein Rise. Construction and construction workers. Litter in the grass on the pavement. I refer to my list and check the map on the old, old phone and buy water and stride. It can almost be a trip I am on. Kinokuniya by MRT, and I am already weary of trying to take interesting photos of bland, generic signage. I like clicking signs and boards and writing, but this is not of that kind. I do what I can.

I sit at a bust stop waiting for one bus, then decide to take another from another stop. It is warm but bearable. And every now and then there is aircon- a bus, a mall, a shop. I walked on Tiong Bahru Road, up Kim Pong Road to Yong Saik street. I must take what light I get, and click. A bald ang moh man sitting outside Forty Hands shakes his head disapprovingly as he sees me take a photo of the place.  No, I am not interested in photographing you, I say to him in my head. He turns away. I go in. I have decided to treat myself to lunch there but I seem to have forgotten that it is expensive. Maybe the brunches hide the cost, for they are 'nice' brunches, nice outings. It is too late, and I even order coffee. In Forty Hands, you must order coffee. Preferably with an extra shot. I take photos as I have my coffee and then my sandwich. It has been better. It feels like a pit stop, this lunch. I see that they have opened another coffee place, called the Kiasu Espresso. I like the name, but why would they not call the branch Forty Hands as well?

Chay Yan Street and Guan Chuan Street, for more bland photos, though I get a couple of moderately interesting off-project shots. A chalk on blackboard sign like an easel lies on the corner of a corridor, it says 'nana & bird' with an arrow pointing left. It seems to point to nothing. I don't know what it means, and I don't find out. Typical. Another arty shopfront about books. An simple old-style restaurant, with old style locals sitting around, talking, eating, having teh and beer and not bothering about this man clicking a photo. I do not know what Hua Bee restaurant serves, but I am sure I can't eat it.

There's another walk. Then two trains get me to household chores very quickly. I amble through the supermarket, as I often do. I buy a basil plant after years of threatening to. I know I will be told it is entirely my responsibility to take care of it. I hope I will, because I love basil.
I shall check the great internets on how to maintain a small basil plant.   

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