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The Southernmost Point of Continental Asia

View from the tower of the Southernmost Point of Continental Asia (Sentosa, Singapore)

Written on 03 August 2012, 2:33 PM

I’m standing on the top level of a tower on an island in the middle of the sea (confused yet?) and the view up here is staggering. I can almost believe that I really am on an island in the tropics, instead of the hugely commercial city that is Singapore.

Yes, I did it–I crossed the suspension bridge. It was actually easy enough at the beginning. I was trailing behind a group of two older women with a child. Heck, if they could do it, then it must be a piece of cake, right?Wrong. It’s not that it was hard, it’s just that it was scary. Midway through the bridge, I looked down at the water and felt that lurching of the stomach that is almost a constant friend of mine when I’m out at sea. I felt like doing a whoopee dance of self-congratulation when I finally stepped out on solid ground…but of course, I controlled myself. My impulsiveness and expressiveness can only be taken so far. Baby steps.

As I stand out on the lookout facing the sea, I can’t help but contemplate on the turbulence of the sea. I know quite a lot of people who are at home in the sea. I can’t seem to get it. Logically, I know the beauty of the water. The waves are compelling in their strength and fluidity, speaking of a force that man tries to harness again and again. The sound of it alone could either lull me into sweet slumber or enslave me into a deep nightmare.

Up here, I can see the endless expanse of the blue, and those ships in the distance. I cannot tell if they’re anchored or just on a slow, steady path to their destination. It’s that infinity of blue meeting at a hazy line with the sky that brings tension to me. No, the word should be apprehension. That question mark of where it ends, and does it end, keeps me on my toes, ready to flee to safe land.

Now I’m sitting on the wooden platform of the tower. The wind is blowing so hard that I feel the slight shifting of the structure upon which I sit.

Maybe I just think I do.

Still, it’s time to go down and start making my way back. It’s worth the trip, though. In spades.


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