Kranji, 49 km. Two reflectors, two blinkers (one front, one rear), two wheels and one pounding heart. On a whim, I turn into what was formerly Malaysian land that cut the island into half from north to south. It is dark.
There's not a single lamp post nor moon in sight. There are stars in the sky, but with the pin pricks of light they shed, they might as well be white pepper on black tablecloth.
My front blinker, the size of my big toe, makes a pool of light big enough for me to bounce along the former raliway track. The rails, sleepers and gravel are gone. In their place is grass. Trust the government to have arranged to cut the grass.
I bounce along, keeping my eyes peeled as best i can for construction debris - especially metal bars or other things that can poke air out of my tyres and life out of me. Along the way, I pass several streams - all without concrete banks. Natural. I like.
I'll be back.