Singapore in 72 Hours

Rooftop Pools, War Bunkers & Chilli Surprises

We had been talking about Singapore for months and now it was finally happening. This was our first time heading to Southeast Asia and we were ready for it all. The heat, the palm trees, the noodles, the chaos. Singapore had been on our list for ages. A shiny, tropical jungle where futuristic towers rise out of the rainforest and the streets are so clean you could eat satay off the pavement. But what pulled us in the most was the history. Real, layered, complicated history. Colonial scars, World War II bunkers, ancient traditions still alive in the middle of skyscrapers. This wasn't just another city break. This was a story we wanted to walk through.

Hunting the Cheapest Flight to the Jungle City

And how did we get there? Like true travel scavengers, we hunted for the cheapest possible flight. That's how we discovered Scoot Airlines. It's the wild child of Singapore Airlines. No meals, no blankets, no neck support, but it gets you there. Scoot flies directly from Berlin, and sometimes from Athens with a quick hop. One-way tickets can be as low as 165 euros, and return flights usually fall somewhere between 350 and 500. We've also seen promos from Qatar, Emirates, or Turkish Airlines that come with meals and actual legroom, but when you're going halfway across the planet on a budget, Scoot usually wins. So we booked it. Threw some snacks, wore every layer we owned to avoid paying for extra luggage and mentally prepared for a long flight with short naps. Because we weren't flying to just any place. This was our first jungle city. A place where history and future shake hands every day under a thousand kinds of humidity.

We landed at Changi Airport before sunrise. Even at that hour, the place felt more alive than some cities on a Friday night. Changi does not feel like an airport. It feels like a botanical garden, a shopping mall, a futuristic utopia run by butterflies. It feels like a 5* rainforest with better air conditioning. But we weren't here to sleep under the waterfall. We were here to explore history, food, and maybe find some war bunkers. We found the public bus in the basement of the airport. Yes, in the basement. Do not worry, Singapore basements are not haunted storage zones. They are organized, air conditioned, and cleaner than your dentist office. The ride into town cost around 2 Singapore dollars, which is basically the price of fancy chewing gum in Europe. And no, we did not smuggle gum in. We read the signs. Singapore has rules...

History You Can Touch: The Dark Side of "Gibraltar of the East"

We got to Naumi Hotel around nine in the morning, completely destroyed by jet lag. It felt like we had been awake for three days straight, and the moment we stepped out of the bus, the heat and humidity smacked us in the face. It was like walking into a sauna in jeans. Maybe that's why the lovely hotel staff gave us the room key right away. No questions, no extra fees, no "come back later." Just "here you go." Honestly, we probably looked so terrible they felt sorry for us. We jumped in the shower, then into the rooftop pool, trying to wake up and cool down at the same time. Floating there with puffy eyes and wet hair, we looked out at the city. We made it. Kind of alive. Kind of melting. But ready to explore!

We are the kind of people who like places with soul, with real history, geography that has been shaped by more than luxury brands. At around one in the afternoon, slightly crispy from sun and sunscreen combo, we walked toward Marina Bay. On the way, we passed the Tugu Peringatan bagi Mangsa Awam Pemerentahan Jepun 1942 to 1945, a memorial to the civilians who suffered under the Japanese occupation during World War II. This part of history is not always front and center on postcards, but it should be. Before the war, Singapore was known as the Gibraltar of the East, an unshakable British fortress that was supposed to be impossible to invade. So the British thought. They fortified the south coast, aimed big guns toward the sea, and figured they were safe. Then the Japanese came from the north, through the jungle, even on bicycles. The city fell in less than a week. It shocked the world and became one of the greatest military disasters in British history. That is the kind of history that sticks.

Selfies, Fish-Lions, and Fancy Rooftops

From there, we reached the Merlion, the city half-lion, half-fish mascot, proudly spitting water into the bay. The place was packed. Everyone was trying to get the perfect selfie, dodging elbows and phone screens. So, of course, we joined the madness. When in Singapore, you pose with the fish-lion. Right behind it stood the Marina Bay Sands hotel, towering over the city like a giant spaceship parked on three legs. We stared up at the infinity pool on top, wondering how many people were squeezed in there trying to look relaxed while secretly fighting for pool space. It probably looked like soup. We smiled at each other and agreed that our quiet rooftop at Naumi felt just right. No crowds, no elbows, and way less pressure to look fabulous.

Lau Pa Sat: Where History Meets Hunger

Hunger kicked in. We headed to Lau Pa Sat, the grand dame of Singapore hawker centres. Originally built as a fish market in the 19th century by the British who loved iron and hexagons, it is now a food paradise filled with sizzling woks, plastic trays, and smells that punch your appetite. I ordered something that I could not pronounce and had no idea what it was. Zuzana went for a colourful Indian thali that smelled like every spice market had a party on her plate. We sat, we sweated, we feasted.

Now here is where things got dramatic. Singapore is humid. We are talking "walk ten meters and you need a towel" humid. After our meal, we thought we would be clever and cool off inside one of the luxury malls by the waterfront. Smart, right? No. That mall air conditioning had two settings: penguin and polar explorer. We entered still sticky from the outside heat and within minutes we were frozen. Our soaked T-shirts turned to ice packs, and I swear I started hearing snow crunch under my feet. We shivered. We panicked. We ran out. And then, standing outside in 34 degrees, we actually felt relief. Singapore is the only place where sweating makes you feel warmer than indoors.

Gotham City in the Tropics: Art Deco and More

The next morning, we went exploring again. The neighbourhood around Naumi Hotel is a treasure chest for architecture lovers. We passed Park View Square, a massive Art Deco tower that locals call the Gotham Building. It looks like Batman's office with gold plated details, bronze statues, and drama that is hard to beat. Built in 2002 but designed like it was 1932, it is one of the city's boldest buildings. They even used to have a flying robot bartender at the wine bar. I do not know what kind of party that is but I want an invite. The British left a strong architectural footprint here, but Singapore's real strength is in how it blends the old and the new. Colonial structures sit next to glass towers. Art Deco facades line the streets with Chinese shophouses, Malay tiles, and modern murals painted with local stories. You do not just walk through time here. You zigzag through it.

Kampong Glam and the Sultan Mosque: A Beacon of Faith and History

 We made our way to Kampong Glam, the historic Muslim quarter. The Sultan Mosque, with its golden onion shaped dome, shines like someone buffs it daily. Built in the 1820s for Sultan Hussein Shah, who had signed a treaty with the British East India Company, it was meant to recognize his authority over Singapore. In return, the British gained their first official foothold in the region. The mosque and surrounding area became a symbol of Muslim life and trade. The area around it is alive with old shops, narrow alleys, and smells of grilled meats and perfumes. There, tucked into a tiny side street, we found our new favourite place. Two people cooking magic over fire next to red plastic chairs. No sign. No name. Just the sound of chopping and sizzling and the universal smell of delicious. We sat, we nodded, we ate, and we cried a little from the chilli. And the lime lemonade? A masterpiece. The kind of drink you remember years later.

That night, we went back up to the rooftop. The sky glowed pink and purple behind the skyline, and we just floated there, in silence. Nothing to prove, nowhere to be. Just two people, a pool, and a city buzzing gently below.

Sentosa Island: From "Island of Death" to Playground

Our last day was for Sentosa Island. These days, it is known for water parks, beach clubs, giant candy coloured signs, and more photo spots than a wedding. But before it became a playground, it was something else entirely. Sentosa used to be called Pulau Blakang Mati, which loosely translates to "Island Behind Death." Cheerful, right? The British renamed it in the 1970s to something friendlier, and the transformation began. But traces of its heavier past are still there. If you know where to look. At the far end of the island stands Fort Siloso, one of Singapore's best preserved military sites. The British built it in the late 1800s, loaded with coastal guns to defend the western entrance to the harbour. They believed an attack would come from the sea, because of course they did. The empire was very confident back then. But in World War II, the Japanese rolled in from the land side through the jungles of Malaya. The big guns at Siloso were aimed out to sea and could not help much. The fall of Singapore in 1942 was a massive shock, and Winston Churchill called it the worst disaster in British military history.

Now, Fort Siloso is an open air museum. You walk through tunnels lined with war posters, peek into concrete bunkers, pass cannons that once defended a colony, and occasionally get startled by wax soldiers who look way too real. Speakers play war sounds in the background. Bombs, boots, barking orders. Suddenly it is not just history anymore. You feel it. You imagine being stuck in one of those narrow tunnels with the world falling apart outside. It is the kind of place that gently grabs your silly tourist brain and says, "Hey. This mattered." After a few hours of climbing stairs, ducking through tunnels, and reading every plaque we could find, we were completely wiped. But instead of stopping, we wandered across a skywalk through the treetops, then took the mini toy train to Palawan Beach. White sand, clear water, and palm trees swaying like they were trained by Instagram. We cooled off in the sea, watched crabs shuffle over our toes, and admired how even the beach felt like it had been politely designed for perfect relaxation.

Gardens by the Bay: A Dream in Neon

And then, somehow, we kept going. We made it back to the mainland and, without really planning it, ended up at Gardens by the Bay just as the sun was going down. We were sweaty, exhausted, and definitely not dressed for anything magical. But magic happened anyway. The Supertrees were glowing in every colour you can imagine, reaching high into the sky like something out of a dream. Lights danced to music, and people around us stared up in total silence. It felt like being inside a giant, gentle alien forest, the kind that hums with music and smells like night flowers. We stood there blinking, unsure how we even made it that far after walking half of Sentosa. But that is what Singapore does. It pulls you forward with something new around every corner. The next morning, we packed our bags and headed back to Changi, still thinking about that light show.

Strict Rules, Big Heart

Singapore is strict, yes. The rules are real. No chewing gum, no jaywalking, no spitting, and definitely no monkey business unless you're actually a monkey. There are cameras everywhere and signs reminding you how to behave in five different languages. But underneath the control, there is history. Real history. From colonial days and wartime scars to wild reinventions and quiet traditions. Compared to cities like Dubai, Singapore does not just shine. It remembers. It has soul. It is the kind of place that sneaks up on you. Not loud, not pushy, but layered and thoughtful. From old forts to glowing gardens, from red plastic chairs to futuristic airports, Singapore lives in contrasts. We did not see everything. Not even close. But we saw enough to know we will be back.

Would we live here? Perhaps not. The humidity would kill us by week seven. But come back? Absolutely. We barely scratched the surface.