Continuing. After the third pony keg of beer was delivered, it was decided that the next few days would be spent in the conference room discussing what we thought was the best way forward.
We wanted dry-erase boards so we could start taking detailed notes, even though I was well ahead of the curve in that regard. We instead ended up with some mobile elementary-school blackboards and a pile of grainy, sooty chalk.
Leave it to Dr. Cliff to go into a discourse on the genesis of chalk and its economic importance.
Bloody carbonate geologists.
Bloody White Cliffs.
We geologists need to punctuate their conversations with pictures, so these would suffice quite well.
At 1700 hours, the official end to the workday was called; we’d meet here again tomorrow. I’m not certain by whom, but it was readily agreed upon. We were more or less on our own until 1000 the next day. I needed to spend some time in my room with my notes and update a number of dossiers, field notebooks, and other items I was using as a running chronicle.
Several folks decided to invade one of the hotel’s restaurants for dinner. Some wanted to head to the casino, a couple wanted to get a massage, and others wanted to do what tourists are normally wont to do on the second day of being a foreigner in a foreign land.
I declined invitations to dinner and other activities, as I had a long writing session in front of me. I wanted to get this all in its proper place while the memories and notes were still fresh.
30 minutes later, in my room after a 25-minute wait for the elevator; I’m updating dossiers, creating several new ones, and updating my field notebooks. Suddenly, after an hour’s work, I notice something is amiss.
“I don’t have a drink or a cigar,” I said to the four walls. “This. Will. Not. Do.”
I was used to Happy Hour in Russia. Happy hour is slightly different; there are no ice cubes or orange-peel twists in the vodka. Also, it lasts all day.
I remedy that situation by finding and clipping a nice, oily oscuro cigar and digging the bourbon out from under my boxer-briefs in my dresser drawer. I heft the bottle and feel that it’s significantly lighter than when I left it last night. I happen to look in the trash can and spy the wrapper for a box of my festively colored Sobranie cigarettes I obtained back in Dubai.
“Hmmm”, I think, “It would appear that we have some light-fingered Cho Louies or No Louises around here. I’d best guard my supplies a little more securely.”
I move all my smokeables into one of my now emptied aluminum travel cases. They lock with the stoutest of combinations and it will be readily apparent if anyone is fucking with them.
I move some of my best booze into the pretty much worthless in-room safe. With a deft application of duct tape, I seal the safe. It may not be the most secure spot on the planet, but if anyone tries anything troublesome, they’ll leave an immediately recognizable record of what they were up to. It’s just too obvious; they’d have to be crazy to go in after anything inside there.
My money, keys, and passports are in the safe deposit box down in the lobby that the hotel supplies for visiting dignitaries. Even so, they let me keep my shit in one of them anyway.
That handled, I spend another hour writing like a madman. I suddenly realize I’m tired of all this and need a diversion as well as some food and, of course, drink.
30 minutes later, I’m down in the byzantine basement tunnels of the hotel. It’s crowded with hordes of Chinse tourists, and the casino is ground zero for the incredibly loud chatter.
I look in on the bowling alleys all three of them, and they’re full. The massage parlor is hopping, although I leave my name and they promise they will call over the PA when a suitable masseuse is available. Evidently, I ‘intimidate’ some of the more demure ones.
I wander over to the bar, now there’s a surprise, and see it’s packed to the rafters as well. I decide to wait for a seat to open up on Mahogany Ridge when there’s some gargling over the PA and a pair of Chinese nationals leave the bar in great haste.
I grab one of the two newly open seats, much to the chagrin of a couple of Oriental Unidentifiables (OU) who had their eye on them as well.
“Sorry, mate”, I said, “First come, first served. It’s the capitalist way.”
One of the pair grabs a seat and the other just stands there, looking annoyed unspent bullets in my direction. Forget that I’ve literally twice their size and could be an aberration as an angry American. They just order a couple of drinks, and content themselves in giving me dirty looks and probably say nasty things in their own indecipherable language about my national origin and familial heritage.
As if I gave the tiniest of rodental shits.
I fire up a cigar, as literally everyone else in the joint was smoking something more or less tobacco. However, there was a definite barnyard aroma, a regular Dairy Air, in the room. I think some of what was being smoked there was more bovine or equine in origin than botanical in nature.
With numerous hilarious attempts at Korean, pointing at a garishly photographed drinks menu, I was finally served a cold draft house steam porter and 100 milliliters of probably ersatz ‘Russian’ vodka, vintage late last Thursday. This bartender that could at least form some of the phonemes found in American English. A few. A definite few.
Since it all cost the equivalent of US$0.50, I really didn’t care.
Apparently vodka helps flowers last longer when they're dying. But you can put vodka in anything and it'll make it better.
Being a trained observer, I rather enjoy just sitting in any old bar, smoking my cigar, drinking my Yorshch, and watching people. I try and not be intrusive and I never eavesdrop, but I like to try and think of what strange set of circumstances brought us all here together in this place at this time. It gives me writing ideas, some of which I jot down in a notebook I always carry. It also gives me a good shot of nostalgia when I look back at something I wrote some 40 or so years ago.
Yeah, old habits do die hard.
I take a drag off my cigar and set it in the ashtray in front of me on the bar as I go to correct another egregious misspelling in my notebook. I have to immediately proofread what I wrote, or I’d never recall later what the fuck I was trying to convey; especially if it’s in a noisy, smoky, or murky milieu.
Quicker than a bunny fucks, Unidentifiable Oriental #1 (UO #1) deftly reaches over, snags my cigar, and helps himself to a few mouthy puffs.
I look at him, the empty ashtray directly in front of me, him again, and then UO #2.
Since I speak no real Oriental, much less Korean, language, and my Mandarin at this point is worse than laughable; I just point to the cigar, turn out my hands and shrug my shoulders in the international “What the actual fuck, dude?” gesture.
He just smiles a gappy, toothy, and snaggle-toothed at that, grin at me and makes a point of ensuring that I see him enjoying a few more drags on my own damned cigar.
Not able to contain myself any further, I venture a “What the fuck, chuckles? That’s not your fucking cigar.”
Like gasoline being tossed on a fire-ring full of embers, they both go unconditionally incoherently insane.
Yammering, chattering, jumping up and down, and getting right into my face. They wanted me to unquestionably understand that my few words of English insulted them far more than their filching of my $20 cigar.
OK, I’m pretty well trained in Hapkido; an oddly, given the present situation, hybrid Korean martial art. I’m at least 6 or 7 inches taller and who knows how many stone/kilos/pounds/Solar masses heavier than these two clowns. I could easily go all Gojira on their hapless asses and mop significant expanses of the floorboards with them.
Instead, I look around for the bartender. I figured since I was keeping him well supplied with Korean won via tips, and he spoke some English as well as perhaps whatever the fuck these characters were chattering; maybe he could get to the bottom of what was happening.
The bartender walks over and I ask him to ask the two unidentifiable twins why they stole my cigar.
He nods in agreement and goes on in whatever the fuck dialect was being used today by the pair.
“They say they wanted it. So they took it.” They ask, “What are you going to do about it?” the bartender relates.
I deftly reach inside my field vest, as everyone concerned ducks and covers.
I extract two fresh cigars; not a .454 Casull Magnum.
I give one cigar to the bartender and one to OU#2.
“With my compliments.” I pleasantly say.
I was well apprised of the fact that in certain places like this, the local authorities often approach foreigners with, for the lack of a better term, ‘
Agents Provocateur’.
Like the Westboro Baptist “Church”, they try to get a rise out of you so you’ll lose your cool and either create a scene or take a poke at the miscreant. Then they have all the pretext they require to drag you to the local hoosegow, shake you down for every penny on your person, as well as any phones, notebooks, wallets, passports, cigars, cigarettes, etc.
Basically, they goad you into a fight, then drop the thousand-pound shit-hammer when you retaliate.
It’s all so parochial. So obviously clear as vodka; this elementary charade only raised a single eyebrow.
I’m not going to even raise my voice over a couple of cheap cigars that neither of them noticed I slipped them instead of the premium ones I was smoking.
Thus defeated, I asked the bartender to ask them if they liked the cigar.
“What do you think?” I asked in cordial English, “Too tightly rolled? Not caged enough? Too green?”
UO #2 slipped and said “It smells very good…” where he realizes he’s blown his cover.
“Yeah, I like it too.”, I replied, “So much so, I buy my own. What are your badge numbers, boys? I will be reporting this incident to Inspector P'aeng Yeong-Hwan, the head of security for the IUPGS conference to which I was invited as special scientific consultant.”
Of course, they immediately dummy up and feign illiteracy.
I say loudly and very clearly, “You bastards aren’t gonna get away with this. I mean, what is going on in this country when scumsuckers like you can get away with trying to sandbag a Doctor of Geological Sciences?”
I ask the bartender to translate, but alas, it was too late. They vamoosed when I turned to talk with the bartender.
They left so fast, they didn’t notice me snapping their pictures with my ancient but trusty Nokia 3310, revised edition, during our little chat. Even with a mere 2-megapixel picture, I have enough to show the North Korean leaders of the project to get an identification and make known my displeasure of being treated like some commoner or buffoon.
They left both my cigar and the one I gave them. The bartender tucked the cigar I gave him into his pocket and stared lustily at the two remaining on the bar.
“Take’em”, I said. I sure as fuck don’t want them. “Just a clean ashtray and a refill, if you would be so kind,” I say, as pleasantly as possible, considering the situation.
Both the unsmoked and my smoldering, as well as well-traveled, cigar disappear as quickly as minks rut. A clean, new ashtray, double beer and ‘vodka’ suddenly appear.
“No charge, Dr. Rock”, the bartender grins, as he shoves my erstwhile high-mileage cigar between his teeth.
“OK, fair enough.”, I say, “Spaseebah.”, and deposit a raft of won on the bar. The pile won’t be touched until after I leave in a few hours’ time.
“Stranger in a strange land.” I muse over a couple of further beers.
The call from the massage parlor never came, or it did and I couldn’t hear it over the clamor of the casino. I went up to the hotel’s Korean restaurant; had some salty soup, a sad, sad salad, and some form of funky fish, I think, for dinner. I retired that night in a slightly foul mood.
I called Es then the next morning and caught her before she retired. With a 14 hour difference between us, I was getting up at 0700 and she was getting ready to hit the hay at 2100.
I told her of the events of the day previous, and she was glad she wasn’t tagging along. She would have never accused the Korean geologists of being behind the times and would have probably bent the guy’s nose that swiped my cigar.
Agreed, that she’d probably be unimpressed with this place. I promised her that we’d go on a holiday when I returned from all this. It would be up to her to find out ‘where,’ and I’d supply the ‘when’ when I could.
Everything else was going along smoothly, more or less, on the home front, and I didn’t want to give the local listening-in
federales too much to say grace over, so we said our parting admirations and rang off.
Shower, shower sunriser of real vodka and citrus, a quick brush and comb, and spiff of cargo shorts and new ghastly Hawaiian shirt; 30 minutes later, back down in the restaurant for the inevitable breakfast buffet.
After what some would consider breakfast and others would consider a vague attempt at nourishment, we reconvened in the conference room precisely at 1012.
Nothing like precision with this group.
We spend the next two days going over, in various groups, what we think would be required to set forth proper the quest for oil and gas in North Korea on track. Everyone got in on the act, and we advocated for that. We needed everyone’s input to make this happen. Or to even map a way forward to present to country officials. Those from the West on what was needed and those from the East to tell us what was available, and the combined wetware to make what needed to be done happen with what existed.
It took no small amount of doing, but we secured a set of maps that covered the entire country. We were watched very closely by the shiny suit squad that we did not copy, photograph or otherwise take any extraneous information from these sheets of infamy. All other maps in the country were intentionally skewed, with errors deliberately added in to confuse “interlopers, spies, or other
personas non grata”.
I made a massive stink and told them that if we didn’t receive the unfuckered maps, aerial photographs and satellite imagery pronto, we’re packing up and leaving that afternoon.
“We don’t have time for monks resisting the carnival. We didn’t come here to try and guess if the maps are correct or if our remedies will actually work on maps that say one thing and reality says something else entirely.”
They hemmed and hawed, but as I made the announcement to all before lunch that if the real maps didn’t appear by the time we returned from tiffin, we’re gone.
And we take tiffin purty durn early round these parts, buckaroo.
No one was surprised as I when we returned and there were folio after folio of government-uncensored maps, photos, and imagery for our program. I guess they finally reasoned it would be a relatively good idea to begin to take us seriously.
We spent one whole day just going over our field geological apparatus. They had a good idea of how to use a direction-finder compass and Jacob’s staff to measure sections. However, they were totally flummoxed by our Brunton Compasses, GPS systems, curiously referred to as ‘position finders’, notebook mapping applications, and electronic data storage and retrieval systems.
Gad. It was like being back in the 1970s before PCs were a glimmer in IBM's corporate orbs.
We spent the next week working to bring our less fortunate colleagues up to, well, not date, but at least up to the brink of the 21st century. We explained that plate tectonics, continental drift, and the precession of the continents was accepted geoscientific principles, not some arcane Capitalist or Socialist plot to undermine the quality of science in the east.
Yep. It was that mindset we had to first conquer. I think we’ve made great headway in that direction today.
The next Chautauqua session had us split up into two separate groups. We decided in a fit of Cesarean inquiry to ‘divide and conquer’. There are two distinct
milieus which are able to contain economic deposits of hydrocarbons: onshore and offshore.
Instead of attacking both head-on, we’d focus initially on the offshore domain. Once we had a good handle on what was going on under the East Korean Sea, the Huangai (Yellow) Sea and surreptitiously, the South Sea; we’d collaborate our findings and work to tie them in and extend them onshore.
The singular Phyongnam Basin is the one large depositional, sedimentological, and structural basin in North Korea. It is filled by the Joeson and Pyeongan Supergroups of sediments, which are Cambro-Ordovician and Permocarboniferous, respectively. These are good hunting grounds for oil and gas. Could be
elephant–hunting country.
But before we could undertake that, we had to get ‘back to basics’. That is, we had to understand and delineate the ‘frame’ of the Korean Peninsula. In other words, we needed to figure out how and when the peninsula came into existence.
South Korea’s geology is much more complex, fortunately than that found in the North. There were nasty side comments that were due to the relative development not of the geology, but of the geologists who studied each country’s geology.
It was, perhaps, a mean way of characterizing the situation. But, unfortunately, it was also probably fairly accurate.
The Korean Peninsula is characterized by huge
massifs, which are sections of a crust that are demarcated by faults or flexures. In the movement of the crust, a massif tends to retain its internal structure while being displaced as a whole. The term also refers to a group of mountains formed by such a structure. It’s basically one huge, semi-resilient rock.
The basement rocks of the Korean Peninsula consist of high-grade gneiss and schist, Paleoproterozoic Precambrian massifs, which formed in the early stage of Earth’s history. These rocks are unconformably overlain by metasedimentary rocks; schist, quartzite, marble, calcsilicate, and amphibolite, of the Middle to Late Proterozoic. The Korean Peninsula is floored by a collation of about five of these huge Precambrian massifs that acted like ‘microplates’ during the aggregation of the peninsula. These massifs consist of thick dolostone, metavolcanics, and schist, which were intruded by Paleoproterozoic granites.
These Paleoproterozoic metasedimentary and granitic rocks underwent repeated intracrustal differentiation, followed by the events of cratonization, i.e., regional metamorphism and igneous activity, at 1.9-1.8 Ga. Sediments deposited in the peripheral basins during the Mesoproterozoic and Neoproterozoic lead to stabilization as the basement of the peninsula.
These early depositional basins formed the locus of deposition that continued on from the Proterozoic through the Phanerozoic. There are at least three, perhaps four, depositional basins in the south which are delimited by structural zones, such as the South Korean Tectonic Line (SKTL), a huge zone of continental transform faults and forms the basis of boundary demarcation between the Okcheon and Taebaeksan basins.
The boundary between the Seochangri Formation of the Okcheon Basin and the Joseon Supergroup of the Taebaeksan Basin in the Bonghwajae area is a thrust (or reverse‐slip shear zone). This thrust is presumably a relay structure (i.e. a restraining bend) between two segments of a continental transform fault (the South Korean Tectonic Line or SKTL), along which the Okcheon Basin of the South China Craton was juxtaposed against the Taebaeksan Basin of the North China Craton during the Permian–Triassic suturing of the two cratons.
In the late Proterozoic, sedimentation was initiated in basins of the Korean Peninsula, accompanied by deposition of siliciclastic and volcaniclastic sediments as well as carbonates. The massifs were submerged in the Early Paleozoic during a greenhouse period, forming a shallow marine platform and associated environments.
The Cambrian-Ordovician succession unconformably overlies Precambrian granite gneiss. It consists of mixed carbonate-siliciclastic rocks of sandstone, shale, and shallow-marine carbonates. Sedimentation was initiated in the Early Cambrian with a global rise in sea level on the stable craton of the Sino-Korean Block.
There was a major break in sedimentation during the Silurian and Devonian periods in the entire platform. During the Carboniferous to early Triassic, sedimentation was resumed in coastal plain and swamp environments with progradation of deltas.
Major tectonic events were initiated in the Triassic when the South China Block collided with the Sino-Korean Block. The eastern part of the Sino-Korean Block rotated clockwise and moved southward relative to the South China Block along the SKTL.
In the Middle-Late Jurassic, orthogonal subduction of the paleo-Pacific plate under the Asian continent caused compression and thrust deformation. A number of piggyback basins formed along the thrust faults in the east of the SKTL. At the same time, the entire peninsula was prevailed by granite batholiths, especially along the northeast-southwest-trending tectonic belt.
In the Cretaceous Period, the paleo-Pacific Plate subducted northward under the Asian continent, forming numerous extensional (left-lateral strike-slip) basins in the southern part of the peninsula and the Yellow Sea. A large back-arc basin was initiated in the southeastern part.
In the Paleogene, both the volcanic arc and the back-arc basin ceased to develop, as volcanic activities shifted eastward, accompanied by a rollback of the subduction of the Pacific plate. In the Miocene, pull-apart (right-lateral) basins formed in the eastern continental margin.
The Korea Plateau experienced continental rifting accompanied by extensive volcanism during the extensional opening of the southern offshore basin. It subsided more than 1000 m below sea level.
So, as South Korea was mix- mastered by a half-a-billion years’ worth of structural tectonism, which created several depositional basins quite capable of generating and storing economic quantities of oil and gas, the scene to the north was much more quiescent.
The North was composed, from south to north, of the relict Imjingang Belt, which was an old back-arc basin between the Gyeonggi Massif to the south and the Nagrim Massif to the north. It is a paleo-subduction zone, full of volcanics, volcaniclastics and other non-hydrocarbon bearing rocks. It was mashed and metamorphosed, and basically forms a convenient boundary between the complex geology of the South and the more relaxed geology of the North.
Heading north, we come across the Pyeongnam Basin, the only North Korean basin thus far defined that could contain hydrocarbons. Further north is the huge Nangrim Massif. It’s a huge block of igneous and metamorphic rocks that weather very nicely and form some spectacular scenery, but from an oil and gas economic outlook are worthless.
Offshore North Korea, there are two possible petroliferous basins. The offshore West Korea Bay Basin and East Sea Basin, along with five onshore basins could be offering exploration potential. At least ten exploration wells have been drilled in the West Sea, with some showing “good oil shows” along with the identification of a number of potential reservoirs.
The West Sea potentially has oil and has reportedly flowed oil at reasonable rates from at least two exploration wells when they were drilled and tested in the 1980s. Meanwhile, the East Sea has seen Russian exploration efforts previously including the drilling of two wells, both of which reportedly encountered encouraging shows of oil and gas.
Onshore, there has been little exploration to date, apart from efforts by the Korean Oil Exploration Corporation and also recently by Mongolia’s HBOil JSC (HBO). Among five main onshore sedimentary sub-basins, the largest is south of the capital; while unconfirmed reports point to a 1-trillion-cubic-foot (tcf) discovery in 2002.
Historically DPRK was thought to consist of five under-explored geological basins, the
• Pyongyang,
• Zaeryong,
• Anju-Onchon,
• Gilju-Myongchon and
• Sinuiju, Basins.
These basins are all located more or less along the coast, rather than inland. This also points to a certain degree of geological aptitude; as it’s much easier to explore along the more populated coast than it is to venture inland. There may be more hiding in the interior of the country, it’s just that no one’s looked as of yet. That’s difficult. Exploring along the coast is much easier.
With 3 basins supposedly proven to have working petroleum systems; 22 wells have been drilled and the majority are said to have encountered hydrocarbons with some wells testing production at 75 barrels of oil per day of light sweet crude oil. This has yet to be documented or confirmed by the Korea Oil Exploration Corp (KOEC), North Korea’s state-run oil company.
Yeah, our work was definitely cut out for us.
It was decided that a series of excursions offshore in one of the few remaining seaworthy, which was a real judgment call, KOEC seismic boats would be appropriate. The one we received use of was an old, decommissioned Chamsuri-class patrol boat, one Chamsuri-215(참수리-215), PKMR-215 in particular.
It had been basically stripped to the gunwales and completely retrofitted as a seismic acquisition and recording vessel. It had been renamed: “조선 민주주의 인민 공화국 영광” or “Glory of Democratic People's Republic of Korea Science”.
In reality, it was an aging rust-bucket piece of shit that might have possibly seen better days but wasn’t letting on. All the military nonsense, except the powder magazine, had been removed and a new superstructure consisting of slap-dash hunks of poorly-welded low-carbon, cold-rolled steel were erected to form a pilothouse in the area where the bridge once existed. They also built, extra haphazardly, a shooter’s room, galley, cold and wet storage areas, recording room, and storage of tapes and the extra bits and pieces needed for a none-too-extended stay on the sea. It was, being charitable, almost utilitarian.
They could not make their own water, so trip times were limited to about three days in length. Besides, they didn’t really have a hot galley, so it was cold, canned Chinese chow for the next 72 hours. They had a couple of fairly sturdy yardarms with heavy winches to handle the towed seismic arrays of geophones, which were of ancient heritage and showed it. These were probably appropriated back in the 80s or perhaps earlier when they first thought about opening their waters for seismic exploration.
They ‘borrowed’ most of the sensing and recording equipment back then from oilfield service companies and simply forgot to return it once finished. Since they burned that bridge so glowingly, they couldn’t get parts nor service when things failed. Being delicate seismic sensing and recording equipment, fail they did.
So, we had to use what was leftover, or what DPRK industries could cobble together, or what could be salvaged from salt-water drenched recording equipment that hadn’t been too heavily cared for over the span of the last 50 years.
We weren’t terribly optimistic.
So, we load the good ship ‘Rorrypop’, as Viv christened the thing, and head out to the wilds of the Yellow Sea. It was an abbreviated foreign crew, as there was really nothing other than upchuck and curse me soundly for insisting the non-geophysical scientists came along.
Aboard were the two geophysicists, naturally; Volna and Activ. I was there stick-handling the logistics and hoping to help out with the geophysical signal source explosives.
Morse and Cliff, the two other geologists accompanied us on the trip, and Dax decided to go with me as he figured I’d have access to the best booze no matter where we went.
The remainder of the team, the geochemists, Erlan and Ivan, the geomechanic, Iskren, the PT, Joon, and the two REs, Viv and Grako, remained behind onshore at the hotel. They set forth cataloging what data was available; from what sources, it’s vintage, veracity, and usefulness.
Augean tasks, both. Not as fecaliferous as Hercules’ jobs, but still, they held their own rations of shit for each sub-team.
Heading seaward, the Yellow Sea extends by about 960 km (600 mi) from north to south and about 700 km (430 mi) from east to west; it has an area of approximately 380,000 km
2 (150,000 mi
2) and a volume of about 17,000 km
3 (4,100 mi
3).[4] Its depth is only 44 m (144 ft) on average, with a maximum of 152 m (499 ft). The sea is a flooded section of the continental shelf that formed during the Late Pleistocene (some 10,000 years ago) as sea levels rose 120 m (390 ft) to their current levels. The depth gradually increases from north to south. The sea bottom and shores are dominated by sand and silt brought by the rivers through the Bohai Sea and the Yalu River. These deposits, together with sand storms are responsible for the yellowish color of the water referenced in the sea's name.
Being shallow, the Yellow Sea is more perturbed by the frequent seasonal storms of the region. The area has cold, dry winters with strong northerly monsoons blowing from late November to April. I was told that the summers are wet and warm with frequent typhoons between June and October; but now all we had to contend with were swelling seas, spraying saltwater, waggling waves, and a shivering, shimmying ship.
All the navigation, communications and other shiply duties were being handled by both members of the DPRK Coast Guard Auxiliary, mostly older guys who were of great and high humorous jest; and an actual pleasure to be around. They were like their scientific cadre on this cruise, basically a political ‘give a shit’ attitude, and a desire to get the job done, smoke the American’s cigars and drink as much as we could get away with.
The scientific portion of the cruise was being undertaken by students of the various universities and members of the North Korean national oil company. The demeanors of these characters ranged from extremely earnest and stringently North Korean politically correct in the students and academicians, to a more relaxed ‘yeah, let’s just get the fucking job done so we can have a lot of drinks’ sort of view of the older members of the DPRK scientific team.
It was a fun admixture of cultures, ages, professions, and behaviors.
Oh, forgive me for forgetting to mention our ‘guides’, or handlers. They were also chosen, nay, ordered to come along. Landlubbers all, they were less than thrilled with the assignment and inevitable seasickness; which seemed endemic to those of Oriental extraction on the cruise. However, our guides did enjoy drinking. As we learned that alcohol is a central part of Korean culture, and they encouraged us to socialize with them when the time was appropriate.
Or, not appropriate, as I was being denounced by one of the geophysical students after only a few hours into our very first day. Hell, we weren’t even in the Yellow Sea proper. We started here at Pyongyang, down the Taedong River, over the Giva Dam, through Pushover, across Shmoeland, to the stronghold of Shmoe; into the very belly of the frothing Yellow Sea.
Most everyone, other than the foreign elements on board, were either making the trip in the bowels of the ship; nursing and cursing seasickness; or by rail, doing exactly the same thing.
“Chum it over the side, ya’ blinkered mucker!”, I admonished one bottle-greenish national. “This ain’t the Captain‘s mess, Chuckles.
You have to clean up your own spew!”
I was reveling in getting back out on the water and regaining my sea legs. I
never get seasick.
Never.
Ever.
Be it a seismic vessel in the heaving Arctic Ocean, a pirogue in the swamps of Louisiana, my cousin’s fishin’ johnboat back in northern Baja Canada, a US nuclear submarine under the permanent pack ice of the North Pole, or VLCC in the Straits of Somaliland; I just don’t get seasick.
Airsick? Nah. Carsick? Nope. Ready to puke in a Hind-20 over the Caspian Sea during a strong local thunderstorm? Close, but no cigar.
So, I’m doing a Titanic scene recreation. Up in the very bow of the craft, standing in stark defiance of the gusting winds and blowing salt spray, smoking a huge cigar, and totting out of one of my emergency flasks while trying to hang on to my Stetson. I am also endeavoring to remain upright, field vest and really, really ghastly Hawaiian shirt billowing in the breeze.
I’m not certain if it was the cigar smoke, the wind-whipped beard, and hair, the give a fuck attitude, or the flapping of the Hawaiian shirt to which the little local geophysicist objected. But he was
pissed. Olive-green with seasickness, rubber-kneed but still standing a good social-distance away, reading me the riot act in high-pitched Korean.
As I usually do in such delicate situations, I just smile and wave. Show them I’m mostly harmless and they either cool down or get pissed off even more and stomp off in disgust.
Either one was a winning situation for me in my book.
So, I return to doing my ship’s figurehead imitation and revel in the wind, spray, and feeling of really being booming. Sure, some might complain of the cold, but not me, the sting of the salt-spray or the windburn; but I eschew what most people enjoy as ‘normal weather’. I live for pushing the boundaries. I love rough weather and situations that thrust the edge of the envelope further past normalcy.
Besides, we were still in sight of land. Hell, if everything went south at this very minute, one could practically walk back to shore. I can hardly wait to see what these wigglers will do if a night storm comes up when were 100 or more kilometers from land.
The boat’s thrumming heavily from both the thrust of the Soviet-era diesel engines and the craft’s bludgeoning its way through the waves. Most hull designs are so the ship will ‘cut’ through the surface waters. This craft’s flattened trihedral hull design didn’t so much ‘cut’, as ‘slam’ it’s way through. The boat would then crash up one side and smash down the other of each large wave we encountered. The boat would shudder whole, adding a new note of resonance along with the monotonous one-note song of the aged Russian diesels.
The spray would fly, the boat would convulse, time would seem to freeze until we bashed into the next wave. The captain of the vessel took his orders very seriously. “Get to coordinates
XXX and
YYY by the most expedient means possible.” If that meant charging, full-throttle into the teeth of the oncoming monsoon-force wind while we were traversing the worst kelp jungle I’ve seen this side of the Sargasso Sea; well, piss on it, full steam ahead.
“Fuck it”, I thought, “Not my pony, not my show. Let’s see how this plays out.” While I light a new cigar and search for Emergency Flask #2.
After I’d been upbraided by the geophysical student for transgressions still unknown, Cliff and Dax wander out to ask me what the hell I was up to.
“Have you gone completely barmy?”, Cliff asked. “It’s a full gale out here and you’re standing in the teeth of it like it was a warm, sunny Sunday in Piccadilly.”
“Nope, not at all”, I replied, “Just reveling in the delights of an angry atmosphere.”
“He’s nuts, I told you”, Dax smirked, “He’d go anywhere and do anything to have a cigar.”
“Not just a cigar, me old mucker”, I smiled and waved my second emergency flack under his nose.
“Figures”, they both respond in unison.
Dax departs and returns mere seconds later with paper Dixie-style cups he liberated from the ship’s one head. We are going to do our very best to extend the lifetime of the onboard water supply for our scientific and military friends. I pour them each a cup full.
“Whoa, Doc”, that’s gotta be 100 milliliters!” Cliff objects.
“As the Siberian saying goes: One hundred versts, roughly a hundred miles, is no distance. A hundred rubles isn't worthwhile money. And a hundred grams of vodka just makes you thirsty. Prosit!” I say in reply.
We retire to the overhang on the fantail of the boat. It’s a sunshade and keeps the worst of the weather out for the lightweights on the cruise. I decided we’d withdraw there to keep these Dominionites out of the worst of the wind and sea spray.
“Rock”, Cliff notes, “You are a complete throwback. You do not belong here in the 21st century. You need to find a way back to the Calabrian and ride herd on the continental Neanderthals. Give them the gift of distilling and tobacco agriculture, and you’d reframe the world.”
Dax agrees, but notes if I do find a way back, he and Cliff would be selected against.
“Good point”, Cliff agrees. “Rock, stay here. We need your expertise now more than ever. Plus your ready supply of strong drink and cigars.”
“Glad to know that I’m truly appreciated around these parts.” I chuckled slightly acridly.
“Ah, Rock. Buck up. You know we’re only takin’ a piss.” Cliff says.
“Aim it starboard. Don’t want it blowin’ all over the seismic gear”, I reply, laughingly.
The trip continued, and I found a not-bolted-to-the-deck chair and moved it outside under the shade back by the boat’s fantail. I refreshed my emergency flasks and replenished my cigar supply. I’m not about to sit inside and listen to the wails and gnashing of teeth of the landlubber crowd, the patter and timor of the geophysical throng as they titter and argue about array design, nor the military hut-hutting all over the fucking boat.
A couple of times, one or more of our ‘handlers’ would venture out as I had the only supply of readily available smokeables and drinkables. Oh, we had food, lots of beer, soju, some knock-off vodka, and some of that
faux homebrew bourbon for later once the workday was declared over; but for now, I was the one and only dispensary.
We’d have some random chats while they screwed up their courage to ask me for a smoke or a tot of drink. I brought several bundles of really cheap-ass cigars for just such occasions; besides, I figured one of my Camacho triple-maduros would have them chumming for the remainder of the trip. I had also many, many cartons of Sobranie pastel-colored cigarettes, and many more cartons of knock-off Marlboros I bought at the duty-free when we hit town.
It was chucklingly funny to see these harsh, military, no-nonsense characters walking their duty beats smoking pastel green, lavender, and mauve cigarettes.
We got bogged down a couple of times when one or more of the ship’s twin screws fouled with kelp as we tried to put some distance between us and the shore. Each time, one really dejected low-ranking young Coast Guard character would go over the side with a rope around his waist and a knife in his hand to free the props. I was going to object as this was moronically dangerous; but, again, not my pony, not my show. This called for full proper tethering and SCUBA gear.
They had neither aboard.
Welcome to the wonders of a centrally planned economy.
To be continued. submitted by There I was standing at the entrance of a magnificent casino with huge lights, it was a red carpet entrance and I amongst three nameless others were the stars. The brilliant flashes and popping of the cameras of yesteryear seemed endless. Dazzling attire and marvelous sights, bright neons and the search light bouncing around the sky marking our location, all filled the air with a very exciting atmosphere.
Walking along the what appeared to be a long endless corridor crowded with people one chap with a top hat stopped and asked me "Good day sir, what brings you to tonights festivities?" Cooley slipping my sunglasses on I said In my best Jack Nicholson impersonation "The Cocaine". Taken aback the man seemed stunned at my public claim for drug usage but regained his composure. As I was stepping away I could faintly hear him yell out from the crowd "..but I do admire your honesty!"
It was apparent I was important. But who, I did not know. And why? suddenly it occurred to me I had a female companion, not a date but a friend, perhaps a co-worker or collaborator on whatever thing got us here.
She was trying to get the attention of a man, he didn't hear her over the constant roar of the crowd, but as one of his friends following behind passed us I made sure she got an introduction. Off she went With the men, presumably to enjoy the atmosphere, I watched her disappear into the crowd smiling, laughing....
Then it happened. The crowd went silent and in unison did a 180 degree turn and put masks on. All matching in step, the floor falling out to a void of oblivion behind us there was a sense that everyone knew something I did not yet I knew I must play along. "yes, I must follow this crowd because they knew what to do and when, without so much as a alarm!" I thought.
A monotone voice came over a PA system: "ALL must report to their perspective flights, they will be sealed off"
And suddenly I knew what would happen if I was sealed into a vessel. I would be gassed! They were getting rid of us! I broke free of the crowd and ran to the highest portion of the building I could find. Up an endless flight of escalators the floor now periodically falling out in front of me, and having to react quickly, jumping to solid floor to avoid falling through the random openings.
Suddenly, I was back at the time previously mentioned with my female companion. I watched her face laughing and smiling and disappear into the crowd...I knew what was coming next, a heavy pit filled my stomach. Then it came. The silence, the 180 degree turn, the masks, the marching. I did not comply...
I watched as the others marched passed me. The floor fell out into nothing, I jumped in. I fell into an endless hole of what appeared to occasionally have stone walls, geometric shapes, horns and shadows. Grabbing for anything I could only made the fall more violent, tossing me upside down and disorienting me into a state of vomit and a level of sickness not perceivable to the human psyche. Suddenly the bottom. .. No impact, just sand, forming slowly around me, swallowing any memory or thought along with my body. When it all went black I entered what was a new life. What I experienced was just a game, I knew this, it was not explained it was more of a understanding. I took the virtual reality headset off and ascended to the top of the same hole by way of elevator that I had just moments ago fallen for so long.
I reach the top and everything is white tile with blue glowing edges. . . Where do I go?
Then I wake up (THE END)
submitted by Singapore has a lot to offer visitors, from modern skyscrapers to charming colonial neighborhoods, those who have the chance to explore Singapore will have no trouble filling their time, and their stomachs, with the rich cultures that can be found here.
Singapore is small enough that you can travel from one end of the country to the other in around two hours by the state-of-the-art subway system (MRT), the official language is English, and you can drink the water straight out of the tap. In addition, Singapore enjoys one of the lowest crime-rates on Earth, so you can relax knowing you can explore the city safely. It is sometimes referred to as “Asia Light” because you can get a taste of Asian culture, while enjoying easy travel and all the comforts and conveniences of one of the wealthiest cities on the continent.
I have spent a good amount of time here exploring the tiny city-state and playing tour guide for visiting friends and family members. Here is my list of the best attractions for short-term visitors to check out while exploring this fascinating city.
Marina Bay
A scenic walk around Singapore’s Marina Bay is the perfect way to take in some of the best views of the city’s awe-inspiring skyline. Marina Bay is surrounded with some of Singapore’s most famous landmarks. To the south, there is the iconic Marina Bay Sands Hotel with its three skyward towers crowned by a world-famous infinity pool, the ArtScience Museum, with its high-tech salad bowl architecture, and Gardens by the Bay. To the north, the imposing skyline of Singapore’s Central Business District provides a backdrop for the Fullerton Hotel with its Merlion statue, the official mascot of Singapore, with the head of a lion and the body of a fish, and Theatres on the Bay performing arts center. The Theatres on the Bay building was intended to look like a microphone, but locals endearingly refer to it as “The Durian” because it also closely resembles the stinky fruit commonly eaten in Malaysia and Singapore.
Marina Bay is located at the southern end of the downtown core, where the Singapore River meets the South China Sea. You can reach the bay via the Bayfront MRT station which will drop you off underneath the upscale shopping mall that adjoins the Marina Bay Sands Hotel.
Be sure to stay for Spectra, a laser light, music and water show at Marina Bay that happens Sunday-Thursday 8:00 pm and 9:00 pm, and Friday and Saturday 8:00 pm, 9:00 pm, and 10:00 pm.
Gardens by the Bay
Singapore Gardens by the Bay was originally conceived in 2005 as part of an effort to transform Singapore into a “City in a Garden”. Consisting of 250 acres of manicured gardens, and admission is free. The main attractions are two large glass conservatories, the Flower Dome, and the Cloud forest, and the Supertree Grove.
The Flower Dome is the largest glass greenhouse in the world without internal supporting columns, and is filled with hundreds of species of carefully manicured flower and plant gardens.
The Cloud Forrest is a towering structure designed to simulate high-elevation tropical habitat, and features a huge indoor waterfall. Visitors can take an elevator to the top and walk down through the various levels of the structure which contain exhibits along the way. The Cloud Forrest features an excellent exhibit on the effects of global warming in the region and the world.
The Supertree Grove consists of towering structures designed to act as artificial trees. Each tree is covered in species of ferns orchids and other plants representing different regions. Be sure to catch Garden Rhapsody, nightly at 7:45 and 8:45, a light show synchronized to music at the Supertree Grove. The electricity to power the lights and music is sustainably generated at the Gardens by the Bay.
Gardens by the Bay is carefully engineered for conservation. The conservatory domes collect rain water for the park, while electricity is generated by photovoltaic cells to generate electricity, and biomass in the form of plant trimmings from the garden are burned to generate steam and power turbine generators.
Admission to Gardens by the Bay is totally Free, but there is a fee to enter the conservatory domes. You can visit the website for the latest events and details
http://www.gardensbythebay.com.sg/en.html Hawker Centers
It has been said that you can tell a lot about a culture by its food. While Singapore has a huge array of fine dining options for visitors, the hawker centers are what feed the locals. Singaporean food has influences stemming from China, Malaysia, India, and the rest of Southeast Asia, and should be on any visitor’s list of things to check out.
Hawker centers are basically food courts which first sprang up in Singapore in the 1950’s in an attempt to manage the street vendors who were setting up shop all over Singapore. An overabundance of street food was causing congestion, and made it nearly impossible to oversee sanitation. The solution was to move vendors into permanent stalls in large food centers, where health officials could ensure sanitary conditions.
In my opinion the best food in Singapore can be found in the hawker centers, and for reasonable prices too. If you are planning to sample of Singapore’s culinary delights, you might consider skipping the indoor restaurants, and head straight to the local hawkers.
East Coast Park Lagoon Food Center
This is my personal favorite choice to experience Singaporean food. Located on East Coast Park, this hawker has some of the best food in Singapore, with an amazing view of the ocean. Get there early to ensure that you can get a good table, buy a bucket of beer, and sample the rich food culture of Singapore on the beach. This is a great place to try seafood, including the infamous chili crab, one of the unofficial national dishes of Singapore. Chili crab is a whole crab cooked in a rich spicy curry. Soft fried buns are usually eaten alongside chili crab so soak up the delicious sauce. The chicken, mutton, and beef satay are also a must-try. After your dinner you can work off some of your meal by walking along the ocean, watching the large ships mooring offshore while they wait to access the Singapore Harbor.
The best way to get to East Coast Park Lagoon is by taxi, as MRT does not go there. Be sure to tell the driver that you want to go to “East Coast Park Hawker”, not “East Coast Park Seafood."
Maxwell Food Centre
Located nearby Singapore’s vibrant Chinatown, the Maxwell Food Center offers visitors the chance to try a selection of Singapore’s most famous dishes, at a convenient downtown location. Probably Maxwell’s most famous stall is Tian Tian Hainanese Chicken Rice. Made famous by an endorsement from celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain, long lines are usually present to sample the poached or roasted chicken and fragrant garlic rice. Personally I would skip the line, as the other chicken rice vendors at Maxwell are also excellent, but you certainly can’t go wrong with Tian Tian. Keep an out for roti prata at Maxwell. Roti prata is a Malaysian Muslim dish which is similar to a crepe, filled with egg, onion, and/or cheese, and served with a rich curry for dipping. Roti prata is my favorite breakfast in Singapore.
Lau Pa Sat Festival Market
Lau Pa Sat is located in the center of Singapore’s financial district. Located in the historic Telok Ayer Market building, which was originally built on what was at the time Singapore’s waterfront in 1824, Lau Pa Sat is a great place to get your grub on. The best time to go is after 7:00 pm, when they close one of the adjacent streets for “Satay Street”, where vendors compete to see who grills the best satay, or delicious skewers of marinated meat that are served with a peanut dipping sauce.
Cable Car to Sentosa
The small Island of Sentosa was built just off the southern coast of Singapore as a resort and entertainment destination. Sentosa is covered in theme parks, water parks, golf courses, and beach-front bars. Universal Studios is one of Sentosa’s main attractions, but visitors can race down a zip-line, take a bungee jump, navigate a street luge course, see one of the world’s largest aquariums, or try their luck at the casino.
You can get to Sentosa by taxi, on foot, or by monorail. My favorite way to reach the island is by the incredibly scenic Cable Car. The Cable Car consists of small gondolas on a sky-high cable that runs from Mt. Faber on the mainland, through the Harbourfront Center building, all the way across a long waterway to Sentosa. The Cable Car provides some of the best views of Singapore, and is definitely the way to get to Sentosa in style.
You can ride the cable car to Sentosa by taking a taxi to Mt. Faber, or hopping on MRT to the Harbourfront Station (Vivo City). Round trip tickets are USD $20, but even budget travelers might find the experience worth a splurge.
Chinatown
Singapore is more than 75% ethnic Chinese, so it should come as no surprise that it is home to a lively and thriving Chinatown. Visiting Chinatown offers visitors to Singapore an opportunity to experience the sights, smells, and flavors of China right in the heart of Singapore. Chinatown is made up of several blocks of colorful colonial style shop-houses just outside of the Central Business District.
The Buddha Tooth Relic Temple is one of the main attractions in Singapore’s Chinatown. The temple offers visitors the chance to visit an active working Buddhist temple. The structure itself is not old, built in 2007 in the style of Chinese Tang architecture at a cost of $75 million dollars. The temple gets its name because it houses a tooth that is said to have belonged to the Buddha. The tooth was discovered in a collapsed golden stupa in Myanmar in 1998, and the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple was built to offer a suitable place to house the holy relic. The temple is four stories high, with a large prayer wheel and serene garden on the roof. Admission is free of charge, including the excellent museum showcasing the history of Buddhism. The temple is located on South Bridge Road and Sago Lane, which was once referred to as the street of the dead as it was once lined with “death houses”. In Chinese superstition, it is unlucky if anyone dies in the family home, so early Chinese immigrants to Singapore sent their elderly to places like Sago Lane to await their end.
Chinatown food street is located on Smith Street, right in the heart of Chinatown. Closed to car traffic, the street is lined with hawker stalls and outdoor seating, offering a great place to try some of Singapore’s local favorites. The stalls tend to be a little more expensive on food street, than in Singapore’s plentiful hawker centers, but the lively atmosphere makes up for it. Smith Street is also home to Liao Fan Hawker Chan Restaurant (78 Smith Street). Hawker Chan has received the coveted Michelin Star award for its chicken rice in 2016, and is widely acclaimed as the cheapest place to try a Michelin Star meal in the world at well under five bucks a plate.
Singapore’s Chinatown is also one of the best places to pick up inexpensive souvenirs for your friends and family back home. Many of the streets of Chinatown are lined with shops featuring the best of Singapore’s touristy nick-knacks, and at some of the lowest prices on the island due to the amount of competition.
Little India
The bright colors and bustling streets of Little India, offer visitors a taste of the Indian sub-continent right in central Singapore. Little India holds a large share of Singapore’s hostels and budget accommodation options, so if you are traveling on the cheap, odds are you will get to know Little India pretty well. The main things to do in Little India, are shop and eat.
Little India Arcade is a small collection of shop-houses that were built in 1913. The narrow streets are closed off to traffic, and are lined with shops selling curiosities from India. This is a great place to do some souvenir shopping while exploring the fascinating wares that the vendors are offering.
The Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple is a colorful Hindu Temple in the heart of Little India, the temple was built in 1881 and is dedicated to the Hindu goddess Kali. Inside, a statue of Kali can be seen adorned with a garland of human skulls.
Mustafa Centre is Singapore’s answer to a Walmart. This huge shopping complex is open 24 hours, and consists of sprawling labyrinth-like corridors spanning several floors of multiple buildings. If Mustafa Centre doesn’t have it somewhere, it probably doesn’t exist.
For great cheap food, stop by Sakunthalas Restaurant at 151 Dunlop Street. They serve up a variety of Indian dishes at bargain prices. Be sure to order a “teh tarik” or pulled tea to go with your meal.
Singapore Zoo
A visit to the Singapore is a great way to spend an afternoon or an evening while visiting Singapore. I am a little bit hesitant to recommend zoos to travelers, as they sometimes get a bad rap for their treatment of the animals. The Singapore Zoo is truly an exceptional zoo, and I am pleased to report that enclosures and care for the animals are first-rate. Most of the animals have plenty of space to roam. Some, like the monkeys don’t even really have cages, and can wander around in the primate area as they please. I have actually seen wild local monkeys interacting with the monkeys at the zoo on more than one occasion. The elephants have acres of land that they can walk, and all of the enclosures are clean and well cared for. Visiting the Singapore Zoo will offer you a chance to see wildlife from around the globe and you can learn about the threats to endangered animals in Southeast Asia. For a particular treat, you can even arrange to have breakfast with the orangutans.
Have you ever gone to a zoo, and half of the animals are just lying there asleep? That’s because many of the animals are nocturnal, and are mainly active at night. The Singapore Zoo Night Safari is the perfect way to see how all of the animals that are normally sleeping during the day behave once the sun goes down. On the night safari, guests are driven around the zoo on a tram, offering a glimpse into the alter ego of the wild kingdom.
The Singapore Zoo River Safari showcases the fish and animals that live in the world’s largest river systems. The River Safari is unique, as most aquariums highlight saltwater and ocean fish. It is really amazing to see just how diverse life in freshwater systems can be. The river safari also offers two optional boat tours at an additional cost.
The Night Safari, and River Safari, are available as an add-on to zoo admission, or as a separate ticket. Personally I prefer the River Safari to the zoo, as it is not that often that you have a chance to explore the Earth’s freshwater habitats in an aquarium.
Nature Reserves
Most visitors to Singapore would never guess that the ultra-modern city was once nothing more than mangrove swamps and thick jungles. While most of the tiny island has been paved, and is now home to towering skyscrapers, there are still a few wilderness areas where you can get a taste of the dense forests that once dominated the landscape in Singapore.
MacRitchie Reservoir
The MacRitchie Reservoir is Singapore’s oldest reservoir, built in 1838. There is still more than 1 square kilometer of virgin jungle next to the reservoir, that hikers can explore via wooden boardwalks and trails. Water monitor lizards and monkeys are commonly seen along the trail, and the latter can even be a nuisance if you do not keep your food hidden from sight. Trails range in length from 3-11 km. It can be unbearably hot and humid in the jungle in Singapore, so be sure to bring plenty of water, and visit in the morning to avoid the afternoon heat. MacRitchie Reservoir can be easily accessed by the Marymount MRT station. Where else, can you take the subway to get to the jungle to hike with wild monkeys and giant lizards?
Sungei Buloh Wetlands
Sungei Buloh Wetlands Reserve is located to the extreme north of Singapore, next to the causeway that separates Singapore from West Malaysia. The park is home to swampy mangrove forests and estuaries that attract all sorts of wildlife. On a typical walk at Sungei Buloh, you can expect to see water monitor lizards, monkeys, countless bird species, mudskippers, dragonflies, and even saltwater crocodiles. The trails are impeccably maintained, and flat. There are birdwatching blinds, and benches along the trail, making this more of a casual nature walk than a hike, but Sungei Buloh is still one of the best places to spot what is left of the wild animal species that once dominated the island of Singapore.
Haw Par Villa
Haw Par Villa is without a doubt one of the strangest attractions in Singapore. Originally built in 1934 by the Haw brothers, who were the creators of Tiger Balm ointment, the sprawling complex was originally the grounds for one of the family’s lavish mansions, and an amusement park. The amusement park/grounds were intended to teach school children about Chinese culture by depicting scenes from Chinese folklore in the hundreds of statues that cover the grounds. Despite seemingly constant maintenance, the statues seem to be in a constant state of disrepair, giving the park the vibe of a long-abandoned, dilapidated amusement park, straight out of a horror movie. The main attraction at Haw Par Villa, is “The Ten Courts of Chinese Hell”, an indoor depiction describing the ten hells, and the sins that will land you in each one. Admission is totally free, and you can reach the park from the Haw Par Villa MRT Station.
Tiger Brewery
The largest brewery in Singapore, Tiger Brewery offers regular tours of their extensive operation located on the west side of Singapore. Tiger brews beer for several different brands, including ABC and Guinness. The tour costs about USD $15, and includes a generous sampling of Tiger’s brews in the tasting room. Getting to the brewery is a bit of a trek, as MRT does not go directly to Tiger. The best way is by taxi, or tour can hop on one of Singapore’s excellent public busses to save some cash. Tickets should be purchased in advance. You can reserve a spot on a tour here
https://tigerbrewerytour.com.sg/ The original posting of this trip report (with pictures) can be found here
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