Breathing Underwater By Aly G

Countless hours had passed since I had boarded the plane in Vancouver. I was exhausted, desperately craved a shower and felt as though I hadn't eaten in days. My dad and I had just left a Canadian winter and like probably most other new travellers I decided to dress 'appropriately' for my trip in sweatpants, t-shirt and hoodie.

Within seconds of leaving the airplane, with the whoosh of the automatic doors opening into the main airport, I was suddenly, almost violently introduced to the mistake I had made.

Traveling from a relatively dry country such as Canada to a very humid country such as Singapore can only be described walking into water. I was immediately clammy with moisture, within a minute I was overheating, pulling my hair from where it stuck to the back of my neck up into a hair elastic and tearing my hoodie off, desperately wishing I was wearing shorts as well. It was night time, all was dark outside the airport and for the next thirty minutes I struggled to breath the thick, humid air. I had to sit down several times just getting through immigration and waiting for our bus to the hotel, fighting off a panic attack the entire time.

By the time we were boarding the bus my lungs had finally adjusted and for the first time I was able to actually enjoy the beauty and wonder that is Singapore. Skyscrapers towering over you, their lights sparkling in the dark, parks of deep green tropical trees lining highways and filling parks. I'll never forget standing at the floor to ceiling window of my hotel room and looking down onto such a thriving city.

in Singapore


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