Amsterdam, the Netherlands (Solo)

Amsterdam, the Netherlands (Solo)

Saturday, October 18, 2025

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When I was younger, I used to tell others that I "didn't like to travel". In fact, some of my early posts on this very space contained such claims, writing off going on trips as a frivolous activity, and they can of course still be that way, if planned in a particular manner. 

The truth is, those statements were probably made with the intention to convince myself of that fact, stemmed from an unacknowledged insecurity, because I never had the privilege of going abroad often while growing up. To be clear though, I never felt lacking in this regard. 

In between then and now, something changed. I started relishing discovering cultures other than my own, and enjoying the strange irony of feeling smaller the more countries I opened my heart and mind to. I even considered taking a two year gap before starting university to become a flight attendant in bid to take in as much of the world in my "youth", but eventually chose a path in university that allowed me to go abroad on the school's dime, which then led to my current job that I get to travel pretty extensively for, while also being in a position to afford trips for pure leisure. 

Yet, I still hadn't experienced anything quite as life changing as the 10 days I spent in Amsterdam on my own in 2023, a trip I can only describe as the best trip of my life. And this status still holds true two years and 27 trips later, including a repeat visit to the beautiful city, because the pure moments of serendipity from summer that year showed me that I truly needed to be there at that point in time, at that point of my life. I could not make these moments up even if I wanted to. 

Instead of my usual trip/ itinerary recaps, I want to focus on what made it all so incredibly soul-moving. 

The Intention

more than a decade-long dream fulfilled

While I had been on solo trips or solo legs of extended trips, I'd usually meet someone in the foreign city, so I do consider this trip to be my first full-fledged independent travel experience. So what was the pull factor for me–why Amsterdam, and why then?  

Until today, my favourite artiste of all time is Watsky, and I've blogged about him on here several times before, with the earliest one dating 2011 and the most recent in 2016. Admittedly, over the years I've become less expressive about my love for his craft, but he never fails to top my Spotify Wrapped charts annually, even in the years that he doesn't put out any new music. 

Over 15 years ago, I'd posted on his Facebook wall (yes, when that feature still existed), saying that I'd hope to one day see him perform live, perhaps when he does a world tour which includes Singapore as a stop. Unfortunately, Watsky's talent remains somewhat undiscovered in Asia (to everyone's loss, may I add). At the ripe age of 26 and as someone earning my own keep, there was absolutely nothing stopping me from travelling to where he actually has a fan base. 

And so I did. 

The concert experience deserves its own standalone recap, but beyond that, the act of attending a concert I could only dream of more than a decade ago was a tangible representation of several facets of growth for me personally; of independence, of (relative) financial abundance, and of courage.  

The Foreshadowing

an unknowing glimpse into my future

Interestingly, Amsterdam was not my first choice destination. When purchasing tickets for the concert, I'd literally searched up 'safest city' to narrow down the list of cities he was touring and had initially bought tickets to Dublin, Ireland; which as we know now is where I'd consider my second home. 

However, a friend's wedding date turned out to clash with the Dublin leg of the tour and I decided to give away the ticket to an Irish fan via the Watsky Facebook community, and got a new one for the Amsterdam date instead (yes, that was the next safest city). 

Obviously this is a revelation that only hindsight can provide, but I absolutely adore how my first brush with the emerald isle was via my muse. 

The Being

doing things just because

As someone who was brought up with a scarcity mindset and am still actively teaching myself to take on one with abundance, I don't always feel comfortable spending money especially on what I'd consider indulgent treats. I tend to also optimize how I spend my time. 

Yet, for this trip, I decided to do the opposite, within reason. I splurged on experiences, and I did things (at times, repeatedly) without a clear purpose. Doing so allowed me to just soak in the act of just being, and to bask in my own presence; and somehow it all felt strangely serendipitous. 

On one of the evenings, I'd booked myself a seat at one-Michelin-starred De Juwelier (with a no-show deposit so I couldn't get cold feet). While I've dined solo before, it's never at such a fine establishment. Though initially self-conscious, the acute awareness of my own consciousness soon became something I appreciated. With growing life responsibilities and distractions all around, how often am I able to simply focus on just being fully present? And how lucky am I to be able to take myself out in a beautiful, random city halfway across the world? 

Food was unsurprisingly impeccable, and surprisingly unpretentious. Plating was refined, but not at all over-the-top. It felt like a homely hug. As I was sat by the chef's table, I got to see all of the action, and the precision required in a kitchen of this calibre was incredible to see. 

Being a solo diner, both the kitchen and wait staff would stop and chat with me in between courses; and I got to speak to the head chef Yoran (whom I later learnt won the 2022 Michelin Young Chef Award in the Netherlands). He almost immediately clocked my accent, "are you from Singapore?" and shared that he'd lived and worked there a few years ago and loved the city. It was such a sense of warmth and familiarity that came completely out of nowhere—no one can tell me I wasn't meant to dine there and meet him. 

In a very similar vein, I visited a bar on my own for the very first time on another evening. It was a speakeasy, Door 74, and I got sat by the bar counter, beside someone who was having a pre-drink before his birthday celebrations. Throwing my introversion aside, I toasted to him and also had a lovely chat with the bartender, Julien. 

It was a luxury to be able to feel confident enough in my skin to both be alone, and to chat with strangers. After my last drink (a very delicious clarified soy-milk cocktail), Julien shared a curated list of restaurants and bars in Amsterdam that he'd personally recommend to me. I got immediate chills when I opened the Google Maps link and read 'Juju's Eats and Drinks List Amsterdam'—yep, his nickname is the same as mine. Another complete chance encounter that signaled how this trip was truly something special. 

Continuing the trend of speaking to strangers, I'd also booked myself a spot on a beautiful boat tour in Amsterdam's iconic canals, and ended up enjoying it way more than I imagined, made better with the kindness of fellow boat-goers who shared great conversations and even offered to take photos of me.  

The boat ride was probably a peak example of just being, seeing as I was literally forced to take a pause, take in the sights, and relinquish all control to our captain, Oliver. 

By far though, the one example I'd cite when it comes to doing something just because, was when I visited the Van Gogh museum twice on consecutive days during the trip. The first day was planned, I'd pre-booked tickets and spent almost the entire day pinching myself while enjoying the original works of my favourite painter of all time. 

The following day, I was walking in the city and caught sight of some people with sunflowers. It was a handful at first, but the growing volume soon convinced me this was not a coincidence of sunflower-loving folk simply populating the streets. My immediate thought was, "this has something to do with Van Gogh", and I decided to spontaneously hop on a tram that took me to Museumplein, without knowing if something was actually going on. 

What greeted me there was the festival of my dreams. People were dressed in yellow, smiling & distributing sunflowers, alongside live music and street performers. As it turned out, it was the museum's 50th anniversary and there was a 'Sunflower Art Festival' that very day. 

Carrying the sunflower around the city for the rest of the day made me feel inexplicably happy. It was probably a combination of the sense of accomplishment I felt following my intuition, and the fact that flowers are simply a beautiful non-necessity, so symbolic of how I want to live my life—to not just be obsessed with the pragmatic but to leave room for the frivolous. 

The Nostalgia

a nod to my childhood 

On one of my final days in Amsterdam, I was contemplating skipping a visit to a farmer's market on my list, the Noordermarkt, which opens only on Saturday & Monday, as I was feeling slightly tired. However, as I was texting JX about it, he encouraged me to head there, since I probably wouldn't get another chance, at least not on this trip. 

I can't even make this up, but there was absolutely a reason why I needed to be there. As I was browsing through the stalls, I stopped in front of one that sold kid's toys and caught sight of someone all too familiar. There he was, in his pristine form, my childhood soft toy, also known as a 'chou chou' in Singapore, which literally translates to 'smelly' in Mandarin, referring to an emotional support pillow/ blankie/ toy that one owns since young. 

For the unacquainted, my 'chou chou' is a duck hand puppet affectionately known as 'Mr Ducky Wacky Oh So Funny', and through many, many years of love (or mistreatment), now looks pretty damn ragged, spots a short haircut courtesy of my mum and her concern for my sinus as kid, and a huge hole on his right wing. And somehow, ten thousand kilometres away from my childhood bedroom, I come face to face with Mr Ducky's younger self when I've never seen him being sold in any store, anywhere, ever.  

It was as though he was sending me a message from my younger self, saying "I'm proud of you for coming this far," both literally and figuratively. This encounter definitely choked me up. 

And with that, thank you Amsterdam. 

With the benefit of hindsight, I can quite confidently say that this trip was pivotal in showing me that the world was both so much bigger and at the same time smaller than what I thought it was. Bigger in that there was still so much for me to explore (and that I should), but smaller in that I was more than capable of exploring it if I wanted to, especially knowing that there'd still be pockets of comfort wherever I went, be it through the people I've yet to meet or physical manifestations of the familiar.  

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Moving Abroad: One Year On

Moving Abroad: One Year On

Monday, March 17, 2025

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The Before // 

Before one moves overseas, well-meaning folks would offer well-wishes and advice, words of wisdom they may or may not have tried and tested themselves. You would've had the time to psych yourself for the big move, preparing logistics, mapping out the most efficient route to an unfamiliar address which you'll soon commit to memory and which you'll later grow accustomed to calling "home", at least to your new friends. 

And as much as possible, you would've mentally prepped yourself. You get to prepare yourself for the unknown, and somehow expecting the unknown makes the actual unknown a bit easier to deal with. 

The First Return Home //

But no one can prepare you for the sense of uncanny familiarity that greets you when you return back home, especially when you've built a second one somewhere else. While it feels like a warm hug, it feels like one from a stranger–incredibly unnerving. 

It's unnerving because it's the familiarity despite. Despite how different I feel, it's so easy to fall back into the same routines–knowing how to cut across the road before the green man comes on because you can predict the traffic light's timing, diving straight into the snacks aisle of your local supermarket (the one you used to spend most of your post-work evenings in) and going back to volunteering on Friday evenings helping to write letters to government bodies on issues plaguing the average Singaporean, issues that feel so far from my own reality (and this time, not referring to it in a privileged way, though I hundred percent am). 

The most unnerving of it all? The immediate realization coming back from abroad that there's now a part of me that'll never feel familiar to the folks back home. And the fact that they don't see it. To them, 'you haven't changed!', 'wah thank goodness no accent', 'no European air eh!' While I'm glad I didn't seem foreign to my friends and loved ones, it was quite a bit to deal with on my own, feeling like I needed to reconcile these two 'versions' of me. 

The Invisible Growth //

It was also a strange phenomenon because in Dublin, I didn't feel like I'd changed at all. In fact, there were moments in the past year where I questioned my decision to uproot myself completely from a place where I had everything going for me, and it wasn't because things got challenging. Instead, it all felt too easy–so much so that I wondered if I was truly going to get the dramatic "personal growth" I'd envisioned getting by moving abroad. 

Yet, returning back to Singapore made Dublin feel like a complete dream. Not in a rainbows-and-butterflies-kinda-way, but in a 'did that even happen?' way, because that version of myself felt so far away. That version of myself felt different: the one that had a newfound sense of independence, the one that takes control of her social life and not let it be dictated by obligations, the one that has a decent work-life balance. 

These were changes or little growth areas I'd never noticed till I relegated back to my other self in Singapore–and I'd argue not because of a lack of responsibility, but a shift back to old circumstances. At least, moving has shown me what's possible. 

The Leaving Home Again //

And with visiting home, comes the need to leave it again. This time I left really knowing what to expect–there no longer was that sense of adventure or novelty anymore. Because I moved abroad for work, it also felt like I was returning to the place I associated with back-to-back meetings, sending emails, and a good amount of workplace shenanigans. 

As much as I do enjoy aspects of my job, there's no denying that sense of dread that comes with settling into the plane seat you'd be trapped in for the next fourteen hours and knowing you'd have to to go into the office jet-lagged the next day. That's not even counting the emotional aspect of it all: it gets even harder to leave home the second time, not knowing when's the next time you'll be seeing the people you left behind. 

At some point, I'll be back home for good. When that happens, I can't wait for my two selves to merge into one best self–obviously not a given, but I'm prepared to put in the work. Till then, I'll continue to chase all the growth I can get, in every aspect of my life but particularly in my personal sense of self. 

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Hong Kong

Hong Kong

Sunday, March 9, 2025

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"Nah, it will be 10 or 20 years till I visit Hong Kong again." 

Famous last words said by yours truly, when I left in 2018, after spending four months there as a student. Turns out, it only took me five years to head right back in, and it probably would've been a lot shorter if not for the pandemic that shaved off a good two years from all our lives. 

Going back to visit a city after living in it for a bit hits differently. You no longer simply arrive as a visitor. You now return. 'Return' insinuates that you were once there with some semblance of belonging, and you took up space. You go back to a place that undeniably shaped a part of you, where you had your own unique set of day-to-day routines different to what you have at home, wherever that is. 

In so doing, you create a moment in time that makes it easy for you to compare the you now, to your past self, the one that roamed the same streets of the city. You become acutely aware of how you've changed, and grown, even if these developments may not have been achieved in the city itself. Being present in the same physical space just helps you signpost yourself in the two different timelines of your being, and boy does that make you think. 

And it doesn't even have to be that deep. This trip came in a moment in time where I'd been working for almost three years and felt like I've hit a wall. Yet, when I think about my time in Hong Kong–it's the same place where I was diligently applying for at least a hundred summer internships as a student, and where I applied to the internship of the company I eventually landed, which then became my first job. Past me would've been proud, and present me needs to remember that more often. 

But honestly, returning to a city that you're acquainted with is fun because you don't have to overload your days with a million touristy checklists. You get to take things chill, dive straight into activities you know you'd love, and fully be present. That's exactly how my Hong Kong roommate, V, and I (yes, we went back together) spent five days in the city where we shared a room for four months straight. 

Day 1 | 21 March

We arrived in Hong Kong in the afternoon and went straight for a coffee and a snack. Slightly embarrassingly, not a cha chaan teng, but we have plenty of time to get to those spots. 

As a non-regular coffee drinker, Blue Bottle Coffee's iced latte was smooth and that banana cake was just the right amount of moist. Ambience was lovely too.    

I'd missed the random uphill roads in the city centre, though that's not probably how I felt in the moment as I was fighting gravity just to get a cuppa. 

Bakehouse had also been trending on social media at that point and we'd just had to try it out ourselves. This ended up being the first of several visits on our trip and while not photographed, their egg tarts are the second best I've ever had (next only to a random dimsum shop in Sydney, which I believe uses lard in their dough). 

A lovely raspberry filled bombolini.

 

Quintessential HK sights. 

In line with satisfying non-traditional cravings, I had a little solo dinner moment at Ichiran Ramen which somehow hasn't made its way to Singapore yet. V went to meet a friend but we reunited at Quinary, a cocktail bar tucked in Hollywood Road Central, one of my favourite spots in town. 

The taro-based drink tasted as pretty as it looked. 

Day 2 | 22 March

Despite having gone for only one or two hikes during my student exchange days (nature really isn't my thing), my first post-pandemic trip out of Singapore to climb a mountain in Tassie made me a lot more receptive to the idea of going for an easy hike during this trip. 

We chose the Dragon's Back, one of the most popular and I'd daresay high-ROI trails when it comes to scenic views and the effort required.  

Public buses in Hong Kong with bells are a lot less anxiety-inducing than those mini vans where you'd have to shout your bus stop to the driver to indicate that you were alighting. 

On the right track. 

Peep my favourite Shrek keyring plush.

We spotted one of these bobble-head figurines along the trail that we thought was quite cute. 

And then we spotted a pair...

... Another pair. 

Thought that was all? Here's another. Fairly amusing, and we weren't sure if it was a well-known figurine.

One of the things I loved most about hiking in Hong Kong was running into locals, especially the middle-aged/ elderly folks walking at pretty incredible speeds. 

Food tastes better at a higher altitude.

Post-hike, we made our way to where we'd spent the most time whilst living in Hong Kong–our host university, the Hong Kong University of Science & Technology. It was so surreal hopping back on the mini van from the Hang Hau MTR station. 

We'd like to think we blended in with the students well. 

Comfort food at our favourite canteen on campus. 

Bellies filled, we decided to just walk around to all the lovely spots around campus we'd didn't even realize we missed (at least I didn't, till I was there). 

Waking up right beside the sea was a ridiculous luxury I took for granted whilst there.

When it wasn't too cold out, we would sit at the al fresco dining area with our favourite freshly baked egg tarts and a cup of HK iced milk tea (for me). 

We left the campus feeling quite sentimental, peppered with a fair bit of nostalgia. That period in my life was one that featured so much freedom, yet with so little responsibility, a balance that I'll probably never get to experience again. 

Dinner boasted a great view of the Victoria Habour, along the Avenue of Stars.

Burgers, beer & fries from INK Seafood Bar. 

Day 3 | 23 March

Donuts are my favourite dessert (fun fact that I only discovered recently), and V got me these ones from The Baker & The Bottleman in the morning before I headed into the office. A really lovely gesture. 

When visiting cities, even on leisure trips, I make it a point to check out the company office as there's always a little local flair to the design and cafe options that I appreciate. This time around, I utilized my 'work from everywhere' benefit, and made sure to connect with the Greater China stakeholders that I'd been working with for a couple of years now. 

The food in the Hong Kong office was pretty good, by far one of the better ones I've tried in Asia, after Singapore and Japan. Of course, my one day of work wasn't as productive as I would've liked, though it was helpful to clear some work in the middle of a trip so that I wouldn't come back to a ridiculous amount of unread emails post a week of leave. 

Similar to Day 1, I reunited with V in the evening, this time for dinner. Our itinerary was quite reminiscent of the way we lived life in Hong Kong back in 2018 - giving one another space, but also enjoying each others' company. We headed to ZENG, a rooftop restaurant, which had a gorgeous skyline view. 

A couple of cocktails to start the night. 

Post food, we initially had plans to check out COA, Hong Kong's top ranked bar, at least at that point. However, they didn't take reservations and the queue was unbelievably long by the time we got there; it didn't seem quite worth it to spend the rest of the night in a line. 

We roamed roamed around the Central area before finding an alternative, The Old Man. And boy, what a great detour that was. Till today, it ranks high as one of my favourite boozy spots of all time. There was something magical about how hidden the entrance was, how claustrophobic and chaotic yet incredibly cozy the space was, and service was simply chef's kiss. It wasn't overbearing and pretentious; in fact the wait staff were very direct with menu and seat availability whilst not coming across as rude - a fine balance. 

On the way back to the hotel in the dead of the night, street food stalls were still bustling with life. Scene right out of a Canto film. 

Day 4 | 24 March

We had a bit of a later start on our fourth day and headed directly for lunch at Maxim Palace - not before hopping on one of the trams for the classic Hong Kong experience.  

Lining up 'Hong Kong' perfectly in the background; what a shot. 

Dim sum just somehow tastes better when served by Cantonese speaking middle-aged ladies, pushing metal trolleys of steamed deliciousness without a set menu. What's in the trolley for that day is exactly what your options are. And that day, we ate good. Did I mention most of those sitting around us were retired folks sipping on Chinese tea whilst flipping their newspaper with their ink-stained fingertips? What a vibe.  

Completely satiated, we split up yet again. I headed to the ABC Cooking Studio branch at PMQ, which I believe is now closed unfortunately. As a member I get to do classes free of charge in cities outside of Singapore. However, similar to my Bangkok experience, I was the only student (weekday afternoon, go figure) and didn't get the opportunity to interact with locals, other than the instructor. 

When the instructor and I met at first, we had an 'uh-oh' moment, realizing that I didn't speak Cantonese and she didn't speak English. Thankfully, we both could converse in Mandarin and the class went smoothly. 

The end product - strawberry mont blanc. Did I purchase a porcelain plate from a random street stall to have a photoshoot in one of the back alleys? 

Yes, yes I did. Said street stall is in this photo. 

With six mont blancs in tow and no plans to transport them back to Singapore, I needed help. Help in the form of my roomie V, and we met at Halfway Coffee at Sheung Wan for a little tea/ coffee break. 

Love the modern yet oriental presentation of the affogato. 

My baked goods blended into the cafe's offerings, for sure. 

The most photogenic and good girl made herself comfy right in front of us. Upon posting a photo of her on my Instagram, it turns out that she's Kira, and was my colleague's sister's doggo. Yet another piece of evidence that the world is way, way too small. 

Speaking of small worlds, one of the things I'm the most grateful for is the pretty global education experience and work environment I've been able to have, which has given me a little network of friends across countries. And making time to meet is always so special. 

I caught up with J & A for drinks and dinner that night, and we headed to Ladies Street Sik Fan Co at Mongkok, a tze-char style restaurant that artfully has an old school Hong Kong vibe. I last met them at separate international case competitions and it was so fun to see them in a non-competitive capacity (HKUST business students give us a run for our money), and realize that even though we're all living in different cities, that we're going through the same adulting woes. 

Such a great final night. 

Day 5 | 25 March

Our last day was spent mainly at the West Kowloon Cultural District. Honestly could've spent a lot more time there if we had the luxury to, especially as it's a relatively new attraction and was under construction back in 2018. Definitely still glad we made the journey there to check it out. 

The gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore just makes for the best relaxing white noise - fight me if you think otherwise. 

Cremia outside of Japan? Heck yes. I'm still not sure why no one has brought this franchise into Singapore yet. 

Oh Hong Kong, you make me real happy.

We stopped by Urban Coffee Roaster for a quick brunch moment before making our way to the airport. 

Well, not before a celebrity sighting. I mean, did you really go to Hong Kong if you didn't bump into a random Cantopop or TVB artiste? This time, we caught a glimpse of Eason Chan, making an appearance at the shop opposite our brunch spot. 

While I'm not sure when's the next time I'll visit Hong Kong again, I probably shouldn't make sweeping statements about not returning to a city and assuming I've already explored everything there is to it, especially if I've lived there for an extended duration of time. 

If there's anything this trip has shown me, it's that returning to a place that you called 'home' for a while is a vastly different experience from visiting a place as a tourist. And it's a very lovely feeling, especially when it serves as a marker for your past self. 

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