Fortunately, a scatter of prata shops - veritable oases - along Upper Thomson Road provides merciful relief for hungry souls (soles, too) seeking to escape the tedious triumvirate of pineapple tarts, yusheng and steamboat. The maze of leafy trails in the forests nearby also offers recreation independent of festive operating hours. It was to attempt one of these that Allan, Cindy, Mary and I got together that Saturday morning. Mary alleged that I arranged this as a thinly-disguised trip to the prata house.
Below: Almost resort-like? It isn't the Perhentian Islands, but the occasionally-misspelt Upper Peirce Reservoir. Accessed via Old Upper Thomson Road, both landmarks were named after colonial administrators.
After a quick breakfast at Casuarina Curry, we started walking along Old Upper Thomson Road. Once upon a time, it was a crucial transport link between Singapore's north-central periphery and its southern, downtown core. Today it marks a civilisational frontier where homo sapiens sapiens meet their distant macaca fascicularis relatives. Wide-eyed hominid young are often driven here by their parents to observe, behind the near-impregnable safety of glazed panes, macaque politics. Others, amongst whom number both self-entertainers and pathological iconoclasts, arrive to distribute food. For those cruising cyclists and red-faced runners who were uninterested in monkey business, Old Upper Thomson Road is a highway into the heart of the Central Catchment Reserve.
Below (top to bottom): the forest around Old Upper Thomson Road are mostly secondary forest, taking over what used to be extensive gambier and pepper plantations; the road also functions as a civilisational fault line between haves and haves-not. What are we talking about? Tails.
We had intended to traverse the northern part of the Reserve on the little-known Woodcutter's Trail. After what seemed like a winding eternity, we turned left into the hilly service road towards Upper Peirce Reservoir. One could access the eastern approaches to the Woodcutter's Trail through a gate on the right of the service road. Bukit Panjang at the further extremity of the forest eaves lay only two hours' walk away.
Below (top to bottom): our undulating progress along the service road to Upper Peirce; Allan points out his actual disposition; a fast-flowing channel, haunt of kingfishers and anglers (one of whom was encamped, concealed comfortably, under the service road as it crossed the channel).
But we found the gate locked. We knew the tract of forest within had long been a training area restricted for the army. We didn't know they actually placed a padlock on the gate. My heart sank - Allan's car was five boring kilometres behind at the Lower Peirce carpark. Mary's and Cindy's spirits soared - the men could get the car whilst they wait. Allan, too, preferred the shorter walk back. There being no clear trail linking Upper and Lower Peirce Reservoirs, we stopped at the further end of the embankment separating the two reservoirs.
Above (top to bottom): Allan Ben takes a bough, while other visitors to the reservoir park take a nap in the shade.
Below: Upper and Lower Peirce Reservoirs (bottom-most), from the embankment. Both were created by damming the Kallang River, Singapore's longest river, in 1910 and 1975 respectively.
The rest of the afternoon passed predictably. Allan and I left Cindy and Mary at a lakeside picnic to get his car, retracing our steps on foot along what used to be a rough and tumble racing track. The speed demons, legal and illegal, have long taken off into the night and into different sections of the newspaper. When we all gotten into the car, we followed the road north to our new place, and to a late lunch nearby.
I reckon it won't be our last time in the area.
