Pedalled Thoughts

We have all been told the world is shrinking, a phenomenon made possible by such developments as high-speed rails, undersea cables and satellite communications. Consequently, we are made more mobile. But what if all this is simply an illusion? A phantom comfort, born of an supreme, unshakeable complacency in both technology and in our right to them? These well-peddled thoughts I entertained on Monday night as Mary and I pedalled in the dark, our bums and our thighs burning from long sedentary years away from the bicycle.

Below: a well-taken photograph is a confidence trick.

On the unfathomably endless distance between Jalan Kayu and Ang Mo Kio, the fallacy of a shrinking world seemed to have been immeasurably stretched. Our excellent road networks and fuel-efficient vehicles have made for effortless commuting. But the straightforward nature of it all also translates into mindless commuting, a state of strained passivity devoid of sentiment.

On the inconsolably empty distance between Jalan Kayu and Ang Mo Kio, we took an exquisite, harrowed pleasure at each inch swallowed up by our laboured pedalling. We felt a sense of Tolstoyan accomplishment, at how the pulses which run from our sinews through the chains and into the paved earth turn into miles. Each mile covered on naked muscle made our world that night that one extra mile bigger.

In the end, I also succeeded exceedingly in bolstering my reputation (in Mary's eyes) as a crack(ed) assessor of distance. What was (wildly optimistically) intended as a two-hour return ride in the end took us over twice as long. It was a delay we never begrudged though, aching legs aside. Our ride took us all the way to the pretty surroundings of Sengkang Riverside Park.

We rode north along Ang Mo Kio Avenue 6 towards my Anderson Junior College, my alma mater, then turned east along the mostly featureless stretch along Ang Mo Kio Avenue 5. A left turn to Yio Chu Kang Road and a traffic crossing then brought us to the path which followed the serene green waters of Sungai Punggol north-eastwards past Kampong Lorong Buangkok, the last such settlement on the mainland.

Below: Eastword ho (seh)! (From top to bottom: the lily pond at Ang Mo Kio Garden West, convenient pit-stops, this time outside Nanyang Polytechnic, and the steps along Yio Chu Kang Road leading down to the Sungai Punggol riverside path.

Sengkang Riverside Park was unlike most other parks in Singapore, for two reasons - how naturally it blended in with its riverside location and how spacious it felt. The park straddled both banks of Sungai Punggol. A bridge, punctuated in its centre by two viewing platforms, linked both sides. There, in the middle of the river, we stopped, rested and watched the world go by.

Below: Evening come, evening calm. We really needed the lifebuoy by then.

The reeds swayed in the gentle breeze. The clouds drifted across mirrored sky. A yellow-vented bulbul flitted in between the shrubbery, then another. Groups of foreign workers, out on a day off from the many construction sites in the vicinity, posed for selfies against the suburban, riverine backdrop and with our bicycles. Children amused themselves and chased each other around the round orange seats and in the giant mangosteen gazebo. We fixed our eyes on the water and hoped for otters.

Below: my yellow-vented bulbul centrefold, and then the hint of an otter.

We were very grateful that Jalan Kayu wasn't far off from where we were. Four pratas, one maggi goreng, one iced teh tarik, one teh halia and one lime juice later, the decision we postponed all dinner came back to haunt us.

Below: much as this looked like just reward for our toil, it wasn't the end of our day.

On the regrettably endless distance between Jalan Kayu and Ang Mo Kio, we did Robert Frost proud.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.