A Journey Begins – Reflections Before Singapore

There’s something quietly exciting about traveling not just for leisure, but for learning. This time, the destination isn’t across continents or oceans—it’s just across the causeway. But for me, this study trip to Singapore organized by Universiti Putra Malaysia (UPM) under the Master of Architecture programme carried the weight of something far bigger than a mere border crossing.

The three-day journey was designed to be more than just a tourist hop—it was an architectural pilgrimage of sorts. As students of design, urbanism, and space-making, we were stepping into one of Southeast Asia’s most iconic urban laboratories. Singapore, our neighbouring city-state, holds an undeniable reputation as a pioneer in innovative architecture, urban planning, and sustainable living. Its planning is deliberate, its buildings conscious, and its streets a mix of both modern efficiency and cultural layering. For someone learning how space shapes society-

Singapore isn’t just a city—it’s a classroom.

Why Singapore? Why Now?

From the very beginning, this trip was tightly tied to our academic pursuits. In my current semester, Urban Theory and Design Studio heavily focus on contextual responses to the urban environment—especially how architecture and public space coexist within dense cities. Singapore is a masterclass in this. From the HDBs of Queenstown to the lush verticality of Kampung Admiralty, or the mindfully designed public transport system, the city seemed to represent everything we were studying on paper.

As Malaysia’s neighbour, Singapore offers a compelling reflection of what’s possible—how political will, visionary urban policy, and a strong design culture can transform a limited landmass into a global exemplar of liveability. I was eager to observe not just buildings, but how people use them, how streets are shaped by planning, how culture remains embedded despite rapid development, and perhaps most importantly, how greenery is seamlessly integrated into the concrete fabric of the city.

Early Departure, and a TNG Panic

The excitement started even before we left Malaysian soil. Our travel plan began at the most unholy hour: 3 a.m. Packed into a modest car with four of my fellow classmates, we made our way sleepily (yet buzzed with anticipation) to Salak Tinggi to catch the first KLIA Transit train at 5 a.m. Every trip has its funny moments, and this one didn’t take long. As we approached the fare gates, one of my friends—half-awake and wholly unprepared—found themselves stuck at the gate, frantically digging into pockets, trying to reload their Touch ‘n Go card or locate their debit card. The rest of us, equally amused and concerned, couldn’t help but laugh. It was a small, chaotic reminder: we were all on this journey together, a little messy but entirely motivated.

KLIA 2: The Gateway Mindset

We managed to reach KLIA 2 in good time, where we reunited with other classmates. Since our flights were self-arranged, we didn't all fly together, but many had chosen the same morning departure. Despite not being my first time traveling abroad, something about this trip felt different. Maybe it was the company, or the fact that this was a field study disguised as an adventure. KLIA itself, despite my familiarity, still struck me with its vastness—its long terminals, its clinical symmetry, and its strange comfort. Airports are strange spaces: liminal, transitional, yet so definitive of a journey's tone.

I’m not the kind of traveler who overly plans. I don’t chart every street or memorize every landmark. Instead, I prefer to flow with the moment, to stop where it feels right, to observe the present without anchoring it too rigidly to a checklist. Still, I had my mental notes. I was eager to see Queenstown HDB, Kampung Glam, Marina Bay, and especially Kampung Admiralty—projects that weave together architecture, community, and nature with elegance. Beyond the icons, I hoped to discover passive design strategies, understand how Singapore tackles urban heat, and most of all, immerse myself in how culture and space reflect each other on the streets.

Changi Airport Terminal 2: First Impressions

We touched down at Changi Airport, Terminal 2 if I recall correctly. It was my first time at Changi, and I immediately understood why it consistently ranks among the best in the world. Even the baggage claim area—a space most airports treat as an afterthought—was designed with intent. Lush greenery softened the mechanical efficiency, and the play of light created a tranquil atmosphere. The transition from airplane to city began here, not with chaos, but with calm. And it wasn’t just aesthetic; the architectural language of Changi whispered hospitality, clarity, and biophilia. Without even stepping outside, I could sense that Singapore values experience through space.

Getting to Jalan Besar: A Micro-Urban Journey

From Changi, we moved toward Terminal 4, where we hopped onto the MRT. Our destination was BEAT. Sports Hostel, a compact and contemporary accommodation nestled in Jalan Besar, which would be our base camp for the trip. This short transit ride gave me my first proper glimpse of the Singaporean streetscape.

As we walked the final stretch to the hostel, I was struck by the pedestrian-oriented design of the city. The sidewalks were wide, shaded, and uninterrupted. Trees flanked the streets, forming a green canopy that softened the tropical heat. There were even dedicated shaded walkways, separated from vehicles by green buffers—a quiet yet powerful testament to Singapore’s commitment to walkability. Urban comfort, often neglected in many cities, seemed prioritized here.

Final Thoughts: Expectations with an Open Mind

As I settled into the hostel, unpacking both luggage and thoughts, I let myself reflect on what I hoped to get out of these three days. I didn’t want to just see buildings—I wanted to feel their purpose, to understand the intent behind the façade. I hoped to observe how everyday Singaporeans interact with space, how housing is more than just shelter, how culture shapes architecture, and how greenery can reclaim the city.

In a world increasingly dominated by steel and glass, Singapore stands as a model of urban balance. But I also wanted to explore it critically—not to admire blindly, but to question, compare, and contextualize. After all, as Malaysians, we have our own challenges and dreams. Perhaps in these three days, I’d find not just inspiration, but also insight—into what our own cities could become.

The journey had only just begun, and already, it was unfolding as more than just a trip.

It was a living, walking design studio—etched into the streets of Singapore.