(Well, it had to be done, didn’t it?)

So, I’m in Singapore. Which is, fact fans: an island, a country and a city. And very rainy. And very hot. The reason I’m here, in case you missed it, is that D, the hotel owner, had told me that I must come and visit him while I was in Asia. And, well, who am I to refuse the generous offer of a millionaire building magnate? Nobody, that’s who.

That said, for a nobody, I’m doing pretty well. I was met at the airport by somebody holding a card with my name on it (a first), and driven to my abode for the night in a Rolls-Royce (not surprisingly, another first).

What strangely didn’t feel like a first, though, was seeing the Singapore city skyline, which is spookily reminiscent of downtown Manhattan:

Though obviously not as big. And with a few more Chinese signs around.

D is very kindly putting me up in his family home, where he lives with his three children, M (18), L (15) and M2 (10). I’m staying in his other daughter’s room - she’s currently a boarder at Rodean - and I feel like I’m in the kind of house kids lived in on Beverly Hills 90210.

(That said, the children are cool. Especially M2, who likes to answer my questions about the country/city like an informed tour guide, chipping in before his father and normally beginning each answer with an affirmative: “Pretty much.”)

But back to this house.

To put it in perspective: when I was first laid up with my cold this week, I didn’t leave my hotel room for 24 hours. And I realised why I was able to do that, and why it didn’t feel odd.

It was because my hotel room is approximately the same size as my entire flat back home.

But, well… something tells me we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

This house is ridiculous. In a good way. It’s a modern, open-plan-yet-rabbit-warren-type of place, all horizontal lines, pale wooden floors and floor-to-ceiling windows. In short, it’s exactly the sort of architect-designed home you’d see on a programme like Grand Designs. Complete with a kitchen the size of one you’d find in a fancy restaurant (I counted three sinks); a pool which I think is ornamental as opposed to made for swimming; a Yamaha drum kit; a Steinway piano; and multiple dining areas - one of which houses a huge round, glass table with the largest Lazy Susan in existence. Probably.

Oh, and an adorable Golden Retriever called Snowy.

We all went out for lunch together, at the Singapore National Museum - which is quite possibly one of the most striking and well-done museum spaces I’ve ever been to (an old colonial building with a modern annex) and even has happy hours in its cool little bar. That’s my kind of learning establishment!

The museum also houses a fascinating, labyrinthine exhibition about the history of Singapore; and these very cool swinging chandeliers, which I think have given me my favourite photo of the trip so far:

After which we went on a tour of Singapore city by car (see the pictures here).

But right now, we’re back at the house. And after dinner with the kids, D and I are going to go down to the quayside and to Raffles Hotel for - you guessed it! - a Singapore Sling.

Well, it has to be done, doesn’t it?

No, not the camera. Or the bathroom. Or me. The bathrobe.

Just to prove it is me, though (and can you tell I’ve been cutting my own fringe?):

Right, I’m off to bed now. I’ve got an early start - a morning flight to Singapore! So watch this space for a post headline which will undoubtedly involve some pun on ‘Singapore Sling’. Unless I break my arm. In which case it won’t so much be a ‘pun’, as ‘literal’. But here’s hoping that won’t happen. Night lah!

(Unless something back home has changed.)