5 Reasons why it’s better living in a hot hot country like Singapore

by Laetitia Wong 


Having spent most of April and a good part of May touring Europe and all it’s glorious fair-weathered friends, I can heartily assure you all in Singapore and complaining about the sweltering heat that no, the grass really isn’t always greener on the other side.

Why do I say that? Between the fantastically pasta and pizzas of Italy and the delightfully piquant scones of a complete English breakfast, why do I blatantly say that SINGAPORE IS BETTER?

As an ardent cold-weather supporter (I believe most of us Singaporeans are, having been raised in this humid jungle of a country), I have always complained about the littlest hint of sunshine that may ruin the notion of me wearing a gorgeous mid-length dress. Heck, anything that’s not a spaghetti top is too hot for us.

Seriously though, us Singaporean girls aren’t being vain when we strut along Orchard road sporting crop tops and tiny midi shorts. It just so happens that our vanity just so happens to coincide with the weather suitability. (Or rather, survivability.)

Still, having spent 3 long weeks in various parts of Italy, Paris and subsequently the coldest of them all; London, I never realised how lucky we’ve always been getting it. Let me tell you why:


1. It is impossible to look cute overseas.


And I mean, impossible. Not only does one have to learn the skilful art of LAYERING, but forget about showing that bit of belly when you’re in a country sporting 8 degree weather. Unattractive black Long John thermals become your best friend, and your idea of cute is a floppy hat that looks like a larvae’s behind, protecting your face from the never-ending rain.


2. You’re looking like the ant queen there, dear


Flaky skin. Flaky scalp. Flaky lips. Flaky knuckles. Flaky EVERYTHING! Hell, I think I’ve even got rash on my butt! Never mind that I’m applying moisturiser to every applicable square inch of my body, but trying to squeeze my newly moisturised self into a set of tight-fitting thermals? God, it was like trying to squeeze a horse into a tube sock.


3. Goodbye boobs

So what if you’ve got a great rack? Unless your intention is to frost up those Silicon Double Ds of yours, don’t even think of baring your cleavage while wrapped up in layers of warm clothing. In fact, while you’re all wrapped up, you’re starting to look like a human burrito. Goodbye feminine curves.


4. The Metro has like 2913814 lines


Their Metro, also known as our MRT (Mass Rapid Transport) here in Singapore, is a never-ending trail that you THINK brings you from the Colosseum to the Vatican, but actually brings you from one end of Rome to the other. And the thing is, since there can only be so many colours on the spectrum, those Europeans had no choice but to double up their colour tracks, leaving it to us poor tourists to wander around the Metro with thick specs and a huge map, living up to Asian stereotypes. Be glad we’ve only got 4 main colours on our commute. Seriously dude, it’s called gratitude.


5. I miss my Ban Mian


Sure, it’s great to have Italian food. Pasta pasta pasta. Paaaaasta. Hey, it sounds funny after you repeat it for a bit! Waistline aside, pasta’s great, and so is pizza and pastrami. However, if you get a craving for Zi Char (Wok-fried Chinese dishes) or perhaps your favourite Ban Mian with extra tom yam, you can forget about it! Not only would you probably have to walk across the damn country to find ONE store selling Asian food, but since Asian food’s considered sort of a ‘delicacy’ in European countries like Italy and Paris, food store owners consider it their duty to charge you exponential amounts for something that would’ve probably cost you 4 dollars at any kopitiam in Singapore. Take it from me, a Chinese meal for four in Paris cost us 64 Euros (S$95). Plus, it gave us food poisoning. God.

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