I have two more full days in Singapore, and it is very unlikely I will spend any of them writing a post. Therefore, in the quiet of the morning, I thought I’d finally put together a post about the random notes I’ve collected since I arrived here. In no particular order, here goes:

Singaporean children are amazingly well-behaved in public. I have no idea how their parents contain their rambunctiousness, but they do.

If you see a large group of teenage boys on a bus or walking down the street, it’s fine. They, too, are well-behaved.

Image by Andrea Widburg.

Speaking of buses, one of the strange things about people in Singapore is that they will not move to the back of the bus. They get on, find a spot, and stay there. As more people board the bus, the front grows more crowded, while the back remains spacious.

Also, speaking of children, you’ll see people park their strollers outside a store with the child still in it, then run in for a quick shop. They’re not gone a long time, but they are gone. I seem to recall that, many years ago, a woman from northern Europe, when northern Europe was still a safe place, was arrested in America for doing the same.

Public bathrooms are wonderful. This is worth noting because 40 years ago, my mother and I formulated a rule: the more civilized the country, the better the public bathrooms. That is certainly the case here in Singapore. They are invariably clean and well-stocked, and they are often incredibly beautiful.

One thing that is noticeable, though, in public bathrooms is that people hold loud phone conversations in the stall while doing their business. That’s not something I’ve ever seen in the US, or, at least, seen outside of a few oddball eccentrics.

People in Singapore are on their phones nonstop. They are constantly filming themselves or the world around them, or they are playing games or watching TV. I may be a news junkie, but I prefer to see the world around me unmediated by a lens.

Although Lee Kuan Yew, the founder of modern Singapore, was a fierce nationalist, nothing in Singapore’s public face shows any resentment toward its British colonial heritage. Bridges and streets still bear the names of famous British politicians who governed in Singapore, they’re proud of the beauties of their colonial era architecture, and the museums and public spaces speak of the British era with respect.

As one example, the photograph I used is of the Cavenagh Bridge, which crosses the Singapore River and leads to the Asian Civilisations Museum. The bridge, built in 1869, remains completely original, making it Singapore's oldest intact bridge. It was named “in honour of Major General Orfeur Cavenagh, the last India-appointed Governor of the Straits Settlements, who governed from 1859 to 1867.” The museum itself, which I highly recommend, is housed in a 19th-century Palladian-style building, and it is very proud of it.

If you are a foodie, Singapore is a place to come and eat. You name it, they have it, and it’s available in gradations from completely affordable street food to insanely expensive gourmet meals.

Finally, a personal note. My mother and her sister were living with their father in Tel Aviv at the beginning of World War II. My grandfather, an architect, worked with the British designing buildings for their growing military presence. He was, so I’ve heard, a man of extraordinary charm, so it is scarcely surprising that he became friends with the British officers with whom he was working.

These officers told my grandfather that it was very likely that Rommel and his Nazi troops, allied with local Arabs, would overrun British mandate Palestine. Were that to happen, there would be a full-out massacre with every Jewish resident slaughtered.

My grandfather could not leave because he had to earn a living. However, he decided to send his daughters—my 17-year-old mother and her 14-year-old sister—as far from the war as possible.

Since the girls were Dutch citizens, the logical spot was Batavia (the name for Indonesia, when it was still a Dutch colony). He and my grandmother had been living there when my mother was born, so he knew the area well and knew that the girls would live in the luxury of a European colony.

And, indeed, it was luxurious for the first few months…until the Japanese overran the entire Malayan peninsula, and the girls spent the rest of the war in a concentration camp. But that’s another story.

I mention it now because of the journey from Tel Aviv to Singapore in early 1941. It took several days, and, sadly, I don’t remember the details of her journey. What I have always remembered, though, is that the last stop was in Singapore.

KLM, the Dutch airline, apparently had a contract with the Raffles Hotel, so the passengers dined there before continuing the final leg of their journey to Jakarta. That dinner was a high point in my mother’s memory for the rest of her life. She never could say enough about how beautiful the dining room was or how delicious the food was. But what really impressed her was that each diner had a personal waiter.

Naturally, I wanted to see the Raffles Hotel, so we arranged to have high tea there for about $108 per person. Yes, that is insanely expensive, but I was there for the experience – and what a wonderful experience it was.

The hotel is ravishingly beautiful; the high tea was exquisite, and the Christmas experience was breathtaking, featuring a choir singing Christmas carols, a harpist, and a 20-foot, fully decorated Christmas tree. If you are in Singapore and have some extra money, I recommend it. I’ve heard there are better high teas for food quality, but the Raffles experience is special.

I will be back in America in a few days, having been greatly enriched by this visit.