Singapore sits right on the equator, so it's hot. Boiling in oil, hot. Or maybe I'm just not used to it. Coming straight from the mountains of Colorado where socks and sweaters rule the day, it's baking hot here. Which isn't such a problem for me, but my hair has complained loudly. I've been fighting back with an assortment of clips and tie-backs, then ended the argument with a hat.
Food is everywhere and there are no cooking issues. We have an enormous mall with several bakeries and grocery stores just four or five blocks from our flat. Lacking a car (or more importantly, a driver) I've been hoofing it to and from the mall everyday, dragging my roller bag suitcase as a pack mule. Yeah, I look goofy, but I've managed to collect everything I need to produce meals, and all within just a couple of days. Yay me!
I've even learned to make a Thai dish that Peter declared was so good he "could eat it every night." Well now, who needs variety? Lol.