Tulipmania 2014, Part 2: Bigger

Apart from the macro shots I took at Gardens by the Bay this year, I thought I'd share some of the other ones that I took of tulips.  The colours were unbelievably vibrant this time round; the bed of creamy white juxtaposed with hot pink made my heart sing.

I can't tell how I feel about these furred petals.  I don't know if they're pretty or grotesque, but I can't stop looking at them. (Which I suppose is much the same way I feel about Nicholas Cage.)

These tulips though, are a big yes.  They are so deliciously purple they're almost black!

The cloud dome was misting when we got there, so we had a refreshing walk amid the orchids and ferns.  Everything was juicy, and dripping and green.

Aftewards, my brother, HS wanted to take some pictures at the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple so we slogged over in the blistering heat.  It was decorated quite prettily for a spring though, so the walk was worth it...

... and of course, more worth it because Maxwell Market and the best goreng pisang in the world are right across the road.

The uncle in the coffee stall made me a beautifully creamy iced latte (he was very embarrassed when I told him how nice it was) and we sat in the car and drove home with the air-con blasting, munching our pisang and inhaling our drinks.  What more could you want?

PS  I have no idea how some bloggers so easily take pictures of their coffee and their feet.  I took this one as an experiment and had to contort myself very uncomfortably while HS muttered and rolled his eyes at me.

Also, in the blurry background are my new Birkenstocks, probably my most expensive experiment ever.  I've been wanting a pair of good walking shoes that are somewhat orthopedic but don't make me look like I'm a nurse and so I bought these. 

I knew they would be uncomfortable at first so I've been aggressively breaking them in and I hope that as I'm traipsing around Europe right now, they're not giving me any trouble.  The arches still hurt a little but then, they probably always will.  Such is the curse of flat feet.

Is it bad that I love the way they look?  At any rate, at least I'm backpacking round Italy looking like a granola-eating, maxi-skirt wearing hippie.  Can't nobody put a price on that.