SINGAPORE

CONTINENTAL DRIFTER
8th Stop: Singapore by Elliott Hester
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On March 9, exactly 4 days before Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) first reared its ugly head in Singapore, before schools closed, restaurants emptied, and more than 1,500 potentially infected locals had been placed under mandatory home quarantine, I arrived in this high-tech city-state, unaware of the danger and eager to see the sights.

I soon learned that "getting around" was one of Singapore's primary attractions.

My first stop was the four-star Hotel Phoenix on Orchard Road. For only $74 U.S., I landed a deluxe room with its own big-screen computer, high-speed Internet access, and an outlandish 3-speed leather massage chair that featured rolling, kneading, pointing and tapping actions. But the most impressive hotel amenity turned out to be the plastic card key.

Aside from the normal function of granting room access, my card key or "Smart Card" doubled as a Metro Rapid Transit pass. (The Phoenix claims to be the only Singaporean hotel currently providing this service). I simply presented my Smart Card at the hotel's front desk where a $20 credit was electronically applied.

Following the clerk's directions, I walked next door to the Somerset subway station and placed the card atop the turnstile's electronic reader. After a digital readout displayed my $20 credit, the gate retracted. I then entered what is arguably the world's cleanest and most user-friendly subway system.

Polished marble steps led to a polished marble platform where passengers sat quietly upon polished marble benches. (A sparkling aluminum elevator delivered elderly, disabled, and infant-toting passengers.) The station was immaculately clean. Not a single shred of paper littered the area. No dust, no dirt, no cigarette butts. No discarded gum wrappers (chewing gum is banned in Singapore). It was like walking into the lobby of a massive, elegant hotel.

Unlike any subway system I've used, the train tunnels here are encased behind walls of glass and aluminum. It is therefore impossible to fall from the platform onto the tracks. The walls boast sliding doors which open in conjunction with those of arriving trains. Beneath each door, on the subway platform, yellow markings instruct waiting passengers to stand on either side while alighting passengers disembark.

I stood obediently behind the yellow markings as a train approached. Instead of suffering through the sounds of rattling cars and screeching metal, I heard only a whoosh of air. Then 3 chimes, like escalating notes on a xylophone. A recorded voice, British, female, wafted from the station's P.A. system. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next train on platform A goes to Marina Bay." The doors opened. Passengers exited, unencumbered by the masses waiting patiently behind the markings.

The quick ride to Raffles Place was an enjoyable one. No one munched on corn chips or sipped cans of Coke because eating and drinking on MRT property is prohibited. Offenders are subject to a $500 fine. (Smokers face a whopping $1,000 fine.)

The Raffles Station seemed even more impressive than Somerset. Original art hung on the walls near the turnstile interchange, where commuters passed their wallets, purses and backpacks over electronic readers. Assuming that these folks must have had MRT cards inside, and that the electronic readers are sensitive enough to scan through leather and plastic, I placed my Smart Card inside my wallet and my wallet inside my backpack. Following the lead the woman in front of me, I dragged my backpack over the turnstile's electronic reader and looked at the readout. Voilá! My new balance read $19.30. Seventy cents had been deducted for the journey.

Emerging from the Raffles Station, I found myself in the heart of Singapore's financial district. Bold new skyscrapers, housing the island's numerous multi-national banks, sprouted from the concrete. Just a block away, I had lunch at one of the many ethnic restaurants that wind along the Singapore River. From here the skyline views are spectacular.

A day later I rode the subway to the world-renowned Raffles Hotel. The Writer's Bar, located in the hotel lobby, is where the Singapore Sling was created. On the wall behind the bar hangs a gold plaque dedicated to the hotel's more notable guests. It reads: "The Writer's Bar commends Raffles Hotel's association with great writers including the novelists Joseph Conrad, Rudyard Kipling and Somerset Maugham. Today it provides a new generation of literary talent with an excellent and inspiring vantage point." With rooms starting at $350 U.S. per day, however, today's literary talent may have trouble affording the Raffles perspective.

I rode the subway to the Singapore Zoo. (It required a transfer to a metro bus which accepted my Smart Card.) Billed as the world's first "open zoo," it has no bars or cages. Animals and humans are separated by foliage-filled trenches that give the illusion of an open plain. The rare white Bengal tigers were a sight to behold.

But on March 13, after returning from yet another subway excursion, I watched the local TV news in my hotel room. Three people had been diagnosed with a mysterious flu virus. No connection was immediately made to similar outbreaks in southern Chinese province of Guangdong, China and Hong Kong. But the following day, 6 more flu cases were reported in Singapore. Two of the afflicted were hospital staff. Singapore had its first SARS cases.

Before leaving Singapore for Bali, I watched a movie in my room at the Hotel Phoenix. As God is my witness, the featured film was Outbreak, starring Dustin Hoffman and Morgan Freeman. The plot involves a deadly, contagious virus that infects a small U.S. town and threatens the broader population. It's an eerie example of "life imitating art" that hit home as I rode the subway to the airport.

One person on the train wore a protective surgical mask. Today, hardly anyone rides the subway without one.

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Next stop, Bali, Indonesia.

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