Pasar Bella


This place needs some colour, and I need to hone my photography skills. So in a bid to achieve the perfect balance between both, I’ve decided to bring my camera out more often, and develop an added diligence towards post processing the photos I take.


Singapore’s a small place, but for an island state that’s got nothing but an eternally shining sun and high humidity, I say we’re not doing too bad in terms of keeping our lovely selves entertained. 2013 alone has seen the opening of the SEA Aquarium (which I am DYING to visit), Adventure Cove, River Safari and Pasar Bella. It’s a good year to pretend you’re a foreigner in your home country and prance around the new tourist spots armed with a pair of shades (to mask the local face) and a camera. At least that’s what I did.


Despite it’s obscure location, (Pasar Bella is tucked away in the depths of Turf City’s Grandstand, a place only accessible by those fortunate enough to own a car or have the means to take a cab) I dragged Daniel down with me on a punishingly sunny Saturday afternoon — in a cab of course. Holding the hopes of visiting a market like the ones in Australia, a memory I although only vaguely remember, was pleasantly sweet and was one I looked forward to reliving.

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The verdict? I love it. It’s the combination of being able to pick up bite sized food (pound cakes, macarons, sausages, waffles), admire fresh and exotic produce as well as bask in the concept of how happiness can be so simple. It’s like going to the market with your mother, only this one’s air conditioned, filled with things you’ve never seen before and so affordable. Buy a peach for a dollar and chow down on it while you walk pass little booths selling temporary tattoos and little cakes. Relish in the joy of having too many choices when picking a bottle of beer to quench your thirst. Head into the cheese shop that smells strangely like unwashed socks and share a block of cheese you can barely stand to smell.

It’s the experience that really counts here at Pasar Bella. It’s the energy, the food, the concept that appeals and makes me feel like going back there again this weekend even though it costs me $20 to get there. It’s the feeling of being away from your little cosmopolitan city, yet being in it at the same time. The crowd is genuine and polite, the food not exceedingly delicious yet satisfying because of the entire experience it provides.

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Have nothing much to do this weekend? Take a little excursion down to Turf City and discover this little gem of a place. Pretend you’re not stuck on this sunny island and pick up anything you want in the faith that it holds endless possibilities. I made a Shashuka from the peppers, rocket leaves and spices I bought the other day. Who knows what you’ll end up making too. 🙂

Want You Back For Good

Shanghai 2011

Too lazy to think of a title, so almost all my blog posts bear the lyrics of a song I’m currently listening to. This time, it happened to be Back for Good by Take that, but I am obviously listening to the Boyce Avenue cover of the song. I have a feeling I’m turning into a fangirl soon.

I used to take real photos, like real real photos. Not the kind taken by the crappy camera on my crappy phone, but the kind where I spend 5 minutes thinking, 6 minutes adjusting and 7 minutes reviewing until I manage to capture the perfect shot of the subject. Perhaps when life is constantly spiralling out of control, you just don’t have the kind of time to carry around a bulky camera waiting for the perfect lighting, perfect subject and perfect backdrop for the perfect picture. But then again, there’s no such thing as perfect right? If there was one thing I’ve learnt from photography, its that  the best pictures hide in the most unlikely of situations. So you should always be ready. Another reason to add “Take more photos with Dorothy” on my New Year’s list of resolutions.

Today, the four of us got so bored of staring at each other after three consecutive days of meeting up. It made me wonder if I would be able to spend the rest of my life with the same person without being tired of the curve of their brow, or the depth of their eyes. Would I be able to sleep next to the same person without tiring of their scent or the angle of their spoon? Perhaps boredom is what drives lovers away from each other into the arms of strangers. But if we could all just stick to the boredom a little longer, we might be surprised to find that at the end of the boredom lies familiarity, which is what all homes are built upon.