Turn off busy Bukit Timah Road down a stony track that becomes a dusty one, pass a small black and white sign announcing “Community Use Site”, and ahead lies a jungle-lined trail. The leafy journey is so peaceful that you would not know you are travelling through one of the most densely populated countries in the world.

The trail is known as the Green Corridor, which stretches 25.3km from the north to the south of Singapore over what used to be Malaysia’s Keretapi Tanah Melayu (KTM) railway line.

If you are looking for somewhere to take the family out a weekend bike ride or nature walk, the corridor’s 4km section from Bukit Timah to Holland Drive, in either direction, is worth doing.

The Green Corridor trail is fantastic for families as the walk itself is entirely flat, and it’s cycle-friendly, except on rainy days when it gets muddy. The trail is relatively unpublicised, so you have some of it to yourselves.

This is a rare, easily accessible chance to enjoy the tropics as nature intended. There’s not a manicured plot of greenery in sight. Gaze at the exotic birdlife, such as the curly-tailed drongo or blue-winged kingfisher, but watch out for things lurking in the real jungle, such as snakes in long grass beside the trail, mosquitoes, and vicious ants.

Now and again, the roar of traffic or a glimpse of a housing estate reminds you that while you are in the wild, the concrete jungle lurks nearby.

 Some history: The unassuming narrow path looks as if it could well lead to a mud hut in Africa. Instead, it leads you to something equally as evocative – a cosy country cottage built of brick. Good grief, have you time-travelled to 1950s Basildon, in Blighty? No, the colonial cutie is the Bukit Timah Railway Station, from when the rail line was a vital transport link for tin and rubber, operating since the 1920s. The station, now closed, has now been gazetted for conservation.

In a quirk of history, the line and its land occupied by Malaysia, once ran through Singapore, from the lovely, neo-classical-styled station at Tanjong Pagar at the edge of the central business district, to Woodlands. From there, it went onwards across the causeway.

For many Singaporeans, the rail-line was a link to family in Malaysia. Some have told me of regularly making the journey, their excitement lulled by the rocking rhythm of the train as it slipped past tower blocks and factories, past migration checkpoints, and then up north, past palm oil plantations and zinc-roofed shacks.

The entire KTM line also holds a military significance. During World War II, amid battles in southern Malaya, the British abandoned their quaint rail stations one by one and retreated to Singapore as the Japanese invasion forces advanced. Australian troops there fought bravely, but soon, they, too, became part of the retreat.

However, there are no trains now. The year 2011 marked the end of the line, when Malaysia gave the rail land back to Singapore. Part of the deal was that Singapore handed over the physical iron tracks.

With all the tracks and stone ballast gone, early in 2012 some sections were opened to the public as nature trails.

How long the Green Corridor will remain before some of it is redeveloped is not known. But in the meantime, enjoy this legacy of colonial railway times – a nature trail in the city, with a history lesson. 

Getting there: If entering off Bukit Timah Road, go onto a side path by an over-bridge just before King Albert Park’s McDonalds, on the left looking towards Clementi Road. Park at the Cold Storage nearby. Plenty of buses stop at the over-bridge. For more info, go to www.ura.gov.sg/railcorridor/ or www.thegreencorridor.org/

 This article was originally published in October 2013.

Kieran Nash meets the Raffles Hotel’s resident historian Leslie Danker, who has worked there for 41 years.

Actor John Wayne was “a nice man. Very tall – and humble. Soft spoken, you know?”

So says the Raffles Hotel’s resident historian Leslie Danker, a grandfatherly figure with a twinkle in his eye and 41 years of experience working at one of Asia’s most famous hotels.

Danker has an opinion on plenty of other famous people, too. Michael Jackson? “Very quiet. Strange.” Queen Elizabeth II? A very nice lady. Softly spoken.”

Jackie Chan? “A very nice, jovial man.”

This is a side-effect of being the longest-serving employee of a hotel with a long history – and now Danker is becoming part of the history himself.

He’s sitting at a side table in the Raffle’s grand lobby, looking as much a part of the furniture as the antique-looking chair he’s sitting on.

So how did he come to be here?

“I joined the hotel in 1972. When I joined, it was a completely different style of management.” Starting out in maintenance surplus, Danker worked his way through different departments, before becoming front office manager. After the hotel was listed as a national monument in 1987, a new company bought the hotel and was given the job of restoring it to its former glory. Recognising his love and passion for the place, the new owners kept him on as guest relations manager, the only employee to keep his job.

In that role, “a lot of people asked about the Raffles’ history. I didn’t have much information, as there was no Google at that time, so I went to the national library, but some of the facts were not accurate.” So Danker started researching, and eventually, ” the last two general managers told me I talk so much about the history so I’m going to change your designation to resident historian.”

Although recently his bosses have told him to slow down a bit, Danker takes people and groups on tours through the halls, filling them in on the history of this colonial landmark. As we get up from our seats and he shows me around, it’s plain to see there’s plenty of history here.

The founders of the hotel, the Sarkies brothers, weren’t even British, as one would imagine given the name and feel of the place. They were, in fact, Armenian.

With the opening of the Suez Canal more British people were coming here. Deciding against naming the hotel after themselves, the brothers realised the large British population here all knew of Stamford Raffles, and it would be better for business to name it after Singapore’s founder.

Where the hotel currently sits was a huge 10-bedroom bungalow overlooking the sea, which belonged to an Arab trader. The brothers decided to buy it and convert it into a hotel.

After converting it, and adding new wings to cope with demand, the brothers noticed that it was just too small, and demolished it in 1889 to make way for a new building.

Reopening in 1899, it was at the forefront of technology – the first building in Singapore to have electric lights and fans.

So marked the heyday of the hotel, a venue for grand balls, soirees, and escaped tigers.

In 1902, a tiger escaped from a travelling circus, and found its way under the Raffles’ billiards room to hide. Local sharpshooter and principal of the Raffles Institute Charles Phillips was called on to help, but had just returned from the governor’s ball, boozed up and a bit worse for wear. But, hearing lives were in danger, he marched over in his pyjamas, drew his Lee Enfield rifle and fired three times. “He missed. So he felt embarrassed. I thought, I must redeem my reputation. In the dark he could see the gleaming eyes and shot it between the eyes.”

Mr Phillips may have garnered fame from this event, but it wasn’t quite enough to have a suite named after him. That honour was reserved for more notable guests.

One is famed author Rudyard Kipling, who famously wrote “The food is as excellent as the rooms are bad.”

Another is playwright and novelist Somerset Maugham, who stayed three times.”He spent a lot of time writing. Before he left, he gave a beautiful quote about the hotel: ‘Raffles stands for all the fables of the exotic east’.”

As well as hosting some of the world’s most famous people, the hotel has also made people famous.

Ngiam Tong Boon isn’t a household name, but the drink he created – the Singapore Sling – sure is.

Ngiam noticed that British men would sit out on the hotel’s veranda and watch the women walk by. Now, at that time, women were not meant to be seen drinking. To make it seem as though they were drinking juice, he created a drink out of gin, cherry liqueur, pineapple juice, lime juice, cointreau, Benedictine, grenadine, and called it the Singapore Sling, “so the men could drink with the ladies”. And it’s this legacy that keeps people coming back today.

“A lot of tourists come here for Singapore Slings. Just like in Paris, you see the Eiffel Tower, in Singapore you see the Raffles Hotel. I think it’s the uniqueness of the hotel which attracts people. When people come to Singapore sightseeing, this is one of the spots the come.”

This article was originally published October 2013.

Nothing beats catching sports live at the stadium – the roar of the crowd and incessant sledging making the day or evening an event to remember. But having to queue for ages for the toilet, being served up a maximum of four flimsy cups of warm overpriced beer (half of which ends up on the stand on the way back to your seat) and being stuck outside in the rain and cold are all pretty major drawbacks. So, whether it’s the Bledisloe Cup, the EPL, or the AFL, here the ANZA office’s top picks.

Fern & Kiwi, Clarke Quay, Tel 6336 2271

Plenty of room downstairs to watch the big screens, and for special events (such as ANZA Bledisloe Cup party) they can turn the upstairs restaurant into a mini grandstand.

Hog’s Breath Café, 30 Victoria St, Chijmes, Tel 6338 1387

Good Aussie tucker and styling, and owner David will make sure you feel right at home. Catch a game at the Chijmes venue before the bar relocates.

Boomarang Bistro and Bar, #01-15 The Quayside, 60 Robertson Quay, Tel 6738 1077

This Robertson Quay Aussie mainstay is massive, and you can stumble back there on a Sunday morning to brunch away the previous night’s indulgences.

Harry’s Boat Quay, 28 Boat Quay, Tel 6538 3029

The rowdy home of the Wanderers footy club is a well-known Boat Quay landmark.

Bungy Bar, 3E River Valley Rd, Clarke Quay, Tel 6339 5707

Great place to catch the game and people-watch as the tourists stroll past. If the match gets boring, you can always watch adrenaline-junkies getting launched with the bungee next door.

This article was originally published in August 2013.

Kilo at PACT, 181 Orchard Rd, Orchard Central, Tel 6884 7560, www.visitpact.com

Set on the second level of Orchard Central is a new one-of-a-kind, welcome addition named PACT. PACT has arrived as a hip collaboration consisting of a restaurant/bar from the folks behind Kilo restaurant, trendsetter men’s boutique K.I.N and hair salon PACT + LIM. This all takes place is a light, breezy, industrial style space with cool concrete, metal beams and plenty of glass allowing for natural light.

If you can draw yourself away from the goodies on the huge wooden table display at K.I.N, it’s time to pull up a seat at Kilo. Choose between sitting at a long bar, or at lower tables, looking out over the hip interior and its inhabitants.

The menu includes a fresh fusion of Vietnamese and Japanese, plus some favorites from the original Kilo by the Kallang River. Whilst the selection is not large, it is diverse with fresh, zesty flavours and multiple textures in every dish.

We started our meal with the Prawn Summer Rolls and an old Kilo favourite, the Avocado Wasabi Tuna Tartare. The rice paper rolls are generously filled with rocket, carrot, avocado and mint, then topped with some ground peanut plus some freshly made sweet chilli sauce on the side. The avocado and tuna is as good as always with fresh ingredients and a slight wasabi kick. These dishes definitely set the scene for the rest of the meal: fresh produce, simple, balanced and oh-so delicious.

Moving onto the second courses we try the Spicy Pomelo Duck Salad with smoked duck, pomelo and mint served on a bed of rocket salad with a light, spicy mayonnaise, the perfect fusion combination. To complement the duck we have chosen the Baby Eggplant and a serve of the Salmon and Avocado Sushiro. The semi-deep-fried baby eggplant served with mascarpone cheese, donburi sauce and tempura flakes proves to be the perfect partner for the fresh salmon served with ripe avocado and crisp vegetables, a handful of crunchy soy flax corn chips complete the meal.

There’s a short wine, beer and Sake list to complement the diverse flavour combinations on the menu, a Sapporo beer and/or a crisp Sauvignon Blanc proved to be the perfect partners. There is also a selection of pasta and rice bowl dishes for one, or some big plates for sharing, including duck with mash or pork belly with purple mash. This menu is currently being revised and updated, I’m certainly looking forward to see what this creative team has to offer next.

For a touch of boho cool to break up a shopping trip or for relaxed drinks and dinner to linger longer, Kilo at PACT is indeed a welcome addition to the heart of Orchard Road.

This article was originally published in April 2013.

Tiong Bahru Bar, #01-01 3 Seng Poh Rd, Tel 6438 4380

Not to be confused with Tiong Bahru Bakery, Tiong Bahru Bar (TBB) is a hip new space, brought you by Chris Chong and Kaz Sajim, the people behind The Disgruntled Chef, CM-PB and Skyloft.

Since its gentrification, rent in the hip Tiong Bahru neighborhood has skyrocketed – but this hasn’t deterred Chris and Kaz in transforming what was an old Chinese restaurant into minimalist space awash with industrial overtones.

Located on Seng Poh Road, slightly off the beaten path of Tiong Bahru’s main food strip, the 150-seat venue boasts a central bar with open-front verandah, cigar niche and more than 400 wine labels. The wide-open space features concrete walls and floor, exposed vents and steel beams plus an eclectic array of mismatched sofas, chairs, olde-worlde chandeliers and Persian rugs.

There are no bespoke cocktails here, although all of the standards are on the extensive menu; the mojitos are the signature drink with delicious muddled berries, lychee or mango – perfect on a hot afternoon! Populating the extensive list are bottled beers and ciders, Champagne, sprits, a global wine list and Cuban cigars if you’re in the mood. The generous happy hour is on daily until 7pm, so it pays to come here early and stay until closing (2am) as this is the only establishment in Tiong Bahru that opens late.

We decided to kick off with a sparkling mixed berry mojito ($10 in happy hour) while we planned our meal. There’s Spanish-style tapas on offer, as well as pastas, soups, salads, mussels and all-day breakfasts. We started our meal with a pot of mussels cooked in coconut cream, lemongrass, ginger and chilli. We followed with grilled gambas (crispy prawns cooked in garlic), the perfect openers served with our moreish mojitos. We then moved on to a bottle of wine – the helpful staff recommended a light French red. But not being one to pass up a well-priced NZ Sav, we chose a bottle of Hunky Dory Sauvignon Blanc ($34 in happy hour). For our main course we share a generous sized Paella, packed with seafood and spicy chorizo, which would easily feed three people. The only disappointing factor of the evening is TBB do not provide free tap water.

TBB is spacious, airy and eclectic, the upbeat music provides great atmosphere without drowning out conversation and coupled the extensive drink list, generous happy hour and satisfying food menu we will definitely be back albeit with our own water.

This article was originally published in September 2013.

TFS Bistrot, 544 Serangoon Rd, Tel 6299 3544, www.tfsbistrot.com

I had heard about this place from everyone I know, and so decided to go there on a date night. I was not let down.

The TFS Bistrot, formerly The French Stall, is an authentic French eatery in the heart of Little India. It’s known for good prices, generous servings and a lively atmosphere, and certainly lived up to its name.

On arrival, we were seated promptly, the place was buzzing with conversation.

The menus arrived, and I was pleasantly surprised to find they offer a three-course set menu for $40, and a two-course set menu for children at just $6.20. Because most French restaurants in Singapore will run you well over $100 for a meal for two without drinks, it was a refreshing change to have an affordably priced, authentic French meal.

To start, I ordered the escargots, served with a garlic butter and a crispy pastry side. As someone new to eating snails, I couldn’t help but taste the earthy, soil aftertaste the escargots held. Jacqui was better off, with an excellent French onion soup.

The service at TFS is amazing – the entrées were out almost as fast as we could order them, and the friendly, prompt service continued throughout the evening.

When it came time to order the main course, I chose a baked Welsh rack of lamb, rested in jus with foie gras scented potato croquettes. The serving was very generous, and the lamb cooked perfectly.

Jacqui ordered the grilled duck breast with grilled vegetables and green peppercorn dressing, which oozed flavour and was again on the large side.

You won’t get five-star presentation here, but it seems to fit this roadside, home-style kind of operation.

Finally to finish, I had Baked Alaska, a dish I had wanted to try ever since I was a child. It was huge – the lashings of meringue enveloping softly frozen ice cream and a crumbly biscuit base.

Finishing off with espresso, you couldn’t ask for a better night of great helpings of great food, in a laid-back setting free of any stuffy pretension. 

This article was originally published in October 2013.

In Singapore’s northeast, you’ll find a tiny village which harks back to when the country was a collection of small settlements. Kieran Nash went there to see what life was like more than 50 years ago.

I’m walking through a shabby collection of ramshackle houses, connected by a rutted, muddy dirt track filled with puddles. Dogs are barking, and chickens squawk as they bob and weave down the wet driveways.

Most of the houses, in muted tones of gaudy colours, have gaps in the weatherboards and rusting, tin rooves. The humidity is oppressive, and clouds of mosquitoes swarm from the overgrown bush.

I could be in one of any small villages Asia – Indonesia, Cambodia, or Malaysia. Vietnam, maybe. But one place that doesn’t come to mind is Singapore – the clean, futuristic, spick-and-span Red Dot.

But I have come to Lorong Buang Kok, also known as the last kampong. It’s a collection of 28 single storeyed houses, and one of the last scraps of Singapore that progress has left alone.

Wandering around, I find most residents I talk to are not too comfortable speaking English. That is, until I run Richard (who declined to give his last name), an elderly man relaxing on his veranda with a friend. Stacks of newspapers lie against the wall, and a large Singapore flag hangs on the wall above where he sits.

The 69-year-old retired accountant has been here on-and-off for 50 years. His parents owned the house before him.

“We had this place when I was about 10 years old, then it was a provision shop. At that time we had a very big kampong here. We had over 100 resident families here. In the 60s, 70s, 80s – up to the 90s.”

He points to a large field nearby, fringed with a wall of tall, white, uniform HDB blocks, and says as the government acquired more land nearby, the kampong shrank.

“They acquired one building after the other. Our provision shop catered for all the families staying there. We were the only provision shop. [Then] the government acquired the land and most of the families moved out, and there was not as much business.”

In the 1990s, a Fairprice supermarket opened across the road and his family closed the store.

It’s a good life at the kampong, says Richard. Although he doesn’t live there anymore, he comes often to visit his friends and collect rent from his tenants.

“We have friends come and visit us down here, come and chit-chat. Play some games. We still have our Chinese custom celebrations and Hari Raya, other than that it’s very quiet, better than those in the housing block.”

When he was a schoolboy, he spent his time playing with his friends in what was a remarkably multicultural setting.

“There were a lot of children and we would ride bicycles around here. There was a common toilet outside, then every evening when you would come from school, all the children would group together, the Chinese, the Malay, the Indian, all together. And we have Indian families who can speak Chinese. It’s from this place I learned how to speak Malay.

“We learned from each other.”

At that time, there was what he called “kampong spirit”.

“It’s a Malay term, kampong. It’s a village where everybody knows everybody. Here last time, with over 100 families, we knew everyone.

“If you stay in housing block apartments, how do you know your neighbour?

He reckons that kampong spirit has disappeared.

“It’s already lost. A long, long time ago.

“Now, nothing, all the children grow up and stay in a HDB. This place is too small for them.

“Only old people like us, don’t know where to go, come here.”

That said, it’s an easy life for Richard – and the rent is reasonably priced.

The land belongs to Sng Mui Hong, who everyone in the kampong seems to refer to as “the landlady”.

Ms Sng inherited the land from her father, and lives in the Kampong with her tenants. When I approached her, she told me her English was not up to scratch and so couldn’t talk.

Media reports have said the land is worth as much as $33 million, but Ms Sng charges her tenants between $6.50 and $30 per month. She told The New Paper that although she could sell up and move into a huge bungalow, nothing could replace the feeling of simplicity and freedom she gets from the kampong.

She told the paper: “I take after my father in my philosophy of life. As long as I have enough to eat, I don’t hunger after money or to be rich.”

The kampong could also be living its final days, though – CNN reported in 2009 the government planned to demolish the kampong to build schools and housing.

Richard agrees, fearing for the future of the place. “Very soon this place will be demolished. A lot of people are saying that. Very soon.

“Once the buildings approach nearer to us, all this will be gone. What can you do?”

But another kampong resident, 23-year-old Sasha Anuar, disagrees.

“Every year I hear the same old thing – another two years, another three years – but if they were to take this land, they couldn’t replace something like this.”

Sasha was born in the Kampong, moved out to an apartment and then returned five years ago.

She enjoys the peace and quiet of the place.

 “If you’ve ever stayed in a pigeonhole HDB flat in Singapore, you will totally find this a different atmosphere. It’s really quiet – you can’t even hear other footsteps or any vehicle sounds. It’s birds chirping, and all this.

“Fifty years ago, everything was like this.

“In a flat you need to share with a lot of people. This one is your own property. Next neighbour is next neighbour. You won’t hear them through your four-sided walls.”

She says the whole kampong is very lively, especially during festive season.

“It’s super cool. On Hari Raya, that is the time you should come here. You can see all the customs coming round here for the Malay community.”

It is a predominantly Malay community, with some Chinese tenants. “However they still know how to converse in Malay, so it’s not a problem for them to join us.”

Living in such a unique place attracts a lot of interest from her curious friends.

“They always want to come here for some different reason. They always want to come here at night to go ghost hunting.

“A lot of them don’t even know this place exists. Some of them at age 30 don’t even know this place exists, even though they’ve live here their whole life.”

She says it’s important to keep the last kampong alive, as a connection between modern Singapore, and the Lion City of times past.

“The youngest generation might be blown away by the latest technology and forgetting what actually what their forefathers faced back in the 50’s. Some of my friends don’t know this place exists – what about their children?”

That’s what has brought Jade Goh and her family to the kampong. I ran into the Goh family as I had just arrived. She was there to let her kids experience what Singapore was like half a century ago.

Her daughter Elsa, 7, said “it’s good. It doesn’t have any tall buildings, it just looks like a Kampong.”

For Jade, it’s important her children see Singapore’s village roots.

“In Singapore we don’t see any place like this anymore. I want them to know that old Singapore is like this.”

This article was originally published in October 2013.