As the plane broke through the cloud cover, the pilot announced we were approaching Singapore. A lush green land stretched below us — and then came the sea. We had been flying over Malaysia.
The view was glorious. The sea, wide and deep, dotted with little islands, offshore platforms, ships cutting a wake through the waters. Lower and lower we dropped until the first Singapore building came into view — a low, red-roofed building almost hugging the edge of the island. There was little traffic on the road as the plane came down on the runway at Changi. There was a reassuring thud as the landing wheels touched the ground of my beloved Singapore.
It felt good to be back — and the satisfaction lasted all the way through the smooth immigration clearance, the speedy baggage arrival and the taxi ride home. The taxi, needless to say, had been waiting at the stand and the driver kindly helped me with the luggage.
Familiar sights and sounds now surround me. I love Singapore.
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