I’ve never lived in Singapore — and to be honest, I don’t think I could. It’s hot and humid all year round, summers are brutal, and I’d probably get fined just for jaywalking. But every time I visit, I leave thinking the same thing: this place works.
Seriously. The trains? Work like clockwork. The streets? Spotless. The airport? Impeccable. The whole city feels like it’s been given a designer makeover and now it’s showing off — in the most polite way possible, of course.
There’s something oddly satisfying about a place that’s so well-run. No congested roads, no broken sidewalks, no chaos. And as someone who lives in a more... let’s say vibrant (read: chaotic) European city, the contrast is almost comical. Back home, things could do with a bit of Singapore’s efficiency.
Seriously. The trains? Work like clockwork. The streets? Spotless. The airport? Impeccable. The whole city feels like it’s been given a designer makeover and now it’s showing off — in the most polite way possible, of course.
There’s something oddly satisfying about a place that’s so well-run. No congested roads, no broken sidewalks, no chaos. And as someone who lives in a more... let’s say vibrant (read: chaotic) European city, the contrast is almost comical. Back home, things could do with a bit of Singapore’s efficiency.

