…of shan – Ang Mo Kio Park, that is.
My mother who came along with me was proving to be a real spoil sport – more evidence that she couldn’t keep up with my pace had she come along to Tokyo, Istanbul, Paris, London, Shanghai or wherever we’d have decided to go. Although I’m indifferent to my parents (for good reason), I am afraid that their biggest irresponsibility will transform into a lifetime of debt for me. I wouldn’t say they’ve little regard for life, but I’d say they’ve little regard for keeping themselves fit, preferring to stay home from dawn to dusk, waning in the handful of Korean cable channels we have. When it comes to food, health is an ironic concern – tohim, chili is unhealthy but downing bowls and bowls of laksa along with more than the usual pinch of salt is fine, toher, desserts and soft drinks are unhealthy but foods with tonnes of gravy, quintessential chili are mandatory with every meal. So, looking back, it was a very encouraging move that she came along, despite all the whining and nagging…which she started barely five minutes after we left the house.
The eastern half of Bishan – Ang Mo Kio Park was, well, much more alive, interesting and less “wild”, and more like areal city park. On the whole, there were more people, the place seemed better kempt than the western half, which was in my opinion, a little unfair.
Thanks to her, I didn’t really have time to explore the park as I’d love to, because she had begun texting everybody to take her away from all this nature, and her chariot in champagne gold was waiting, something I was real pissed about.
Only when I took this photo did I really get a sense of how vast and how deep the project is. It looks small, but it isn’t.
Bishan – Ang Mo Kio.