Back in Leuven, jet lagged and less than a week to pack up and leave our lovely rooms.



But the sun has come out while we've been away, so Leuven is looking it's best.

Our last day, so we went back to Joo Chiat. On the way there we were fortunate to be near the front of the traffic held up by a Chinese funeral procession. Banner carriers, musicians and groups of relatives in sackcloth robes walked down the main street in the rain.






We could have gone on exploring for days. We missed out on the Malay Village completely, but there was no time left.



Back to the hotel for a buffet supper, which at least gave us the chance to try durian fruit on the outside terrace. King of fruits, they call it in Singapore, but it's not allowed inside the hotel, or in most public places - it's smell is intense and putrid. "Tastes like heaven, smells like hell" is often quoted. So we have to try it.

I found it quite difficult to bring it to my mouth, due to the unfortunate positioning just below my nose. When I finally took a mouthful my first impulse was to throw up. When I'd recovered a bit I took a second mouthful to check - yep, it tastes as bad as it smells. "You either love it or you hate it", they said.

Then it was a late night flight back to Amsterdam and farewell Singapore - we'll miss you.

Traditionally a Malay area. A little more difficult to get to, but well worth it. Wonderful buildings, lovely details, and lots of interesting food. I wish I'd come here earlier.








And I wish I'd tried laksa earlier -
I could have been eating a bowl a day!

Back to Arab Street to buy yesterdays findings, then explore the more of the area around. Kampong Glam is the original Malay/Muslim enclave, and next to Sultan mosque is the Malay Heritage Centre, in the old sultan's palace.

There I found out about the sea trading, boat living lifestyle of the Malay tribes which have colonised Singapore in the past. Principally the Bugis tribe. There is a replica of one of their fishing boats in the grounds.



Then I just wandered around, admiring the colourful shop houses, most of which are now restaurants. The list of recommended eating places in the area is practically a street directory.



I ended up back at the avenue leading up to the Sultan mosque, where I had the best satay ever.

Arab Street has the local outlets of international silk trading companies. You
wouldn't think it to look at the street itself, which is as scruffy as any in Singapore, but inside the shops are full of lovely fabrics. There's Thai silk, India Silk, brocade, lace and more. I don't usually get excited by this stuff, but these were beautiful.

There are also shops selling shawls, clothes, cushions, carpets and even buttons.

I was told it's no longer as easy to get bargains, but the prices looked pretty good to me. And my bargaining skills have improved over the last few weeks.

A few cafe stops to rest and recover strength for the next foray. And watch people smoking hookah pipes. I haven't see that since the 60s!

I finally found what I was looking for at Osman Silk House, at the far end of the street. By then I was too tired and too burdened to carry anything else, so I promised to return the next day.










Wandering down a side street I found this avenue . . .



. . . leading up to the Sultan mosque.



The black strip round the base of the dome is made of sauce bottles, to commemorate the way the local people raised funds for the temple by selling soy sauce.