On his last night, they stood on the roof of a car park in Little India—Aisha’s secret viewpoint—watching lightning fork over the city skyline.
“First time?” asked the driver, a man named Mr. Tan with crinkled eyes. singapore best time to travel
“This,” Aisha said, “is the secret of the wet season. The island exhales. The trees grow five shades greener. And the tourists? They’re all inside, waiting for February.” On his last night, they stood on the
“So when’s the best time to travel?” Sam asked. On his last night
December, they warned, was for masochists and last-minute idiots.
Aisha put down her chopsticks. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”
Sam nodded, already peeling off the jacket. “Is it always this… thick?”