Going local

Explored a bit of the neighborhood on our way out a few weekends ago. There’s always something new somewhere, round a corner or down the next street. I wish Singapore can be a little like that sometimes.

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Pet chicken let out for a walk.

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A little girl waiting for her friends.

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Here they come, in full split-pants glory.

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Ducks hung up streetside. Hygiene, pollution, whatever. Doesn’t matter.

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Dusty second-hand books and random knick-knacks.

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A sad dog trapped behind glass panels. I’ve walked past this shop often enough to know he’s there most of the time.

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Selection of Chinese wines.

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The carefree smoker cyclist.

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Plant growing in reckless abandon.

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Black sesame dumpling break. Don’t be misled by the size, they are about three parts dough to one part black sesame.

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Narrow alleyways.

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New textured tiles contrasted against windows that are almost falling apart.

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Mobile vegetable hawkers. (Take that, cilantrophobes !)

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Fading traces, almost forgotten. Inevitably so, I’ve always found it extremely humbling and sombering to bear witness to these traces of history.

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Someone’s open-air storage grounds for stone statues.

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Botanical art forms.

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