Singapore - Just as the sun began to soften and the air turned cooler around 6 p.m., I met Edmund and Dan Hakimi for a leisurely walk through the Singapore Botanic Gardens. The park, as always, was alive with gentle chatter, the rustle of trees, and the steady rhythm of joggers tracing their usual paths. It was one of those evenings that seemed made for good company and easy conversation.
As we strolled along, Edmund turned the walk into a small journey through time. Pointing at various old buildings nestled among the greenery, he shared stories of his days studying at NIE (National Institute of Education) when it was still located within the Botanic Gardens. His stories added a nostalgic touch to the evening; it was fascinating to hear the Gardens described not just as a park but as a living classroom that had shaped part of his early career.
Halfway through our walk, Edmund suggested a quick detour. He led us to a familiar spot where he build his biceps. Without hesitation, he jumped up and began his chin-ups, counting steadily as Dan and I cheered him on. True to form, Edmund breezed past 20 repetitions, barely breaking a sweat. We laughed, joking that he was making the rest of us look bad, but it was impressive all the same. The moment added a playful energy to what was otherwise a calm, reflective evening.
From there, we continued towards our dinner destination, Westlake Restaurant. Westlake Restaurant is special for its nostalgic, old-school Chinese "zhi char" (stir-fried) food, which has been prepared with consistent quality since it opened in 1974. Its most famous dish is the Kong Bak Bao, a tender braised pork belly served in fluffy buns.
It was bustling with families and groups unwinding after work. The aroma of sizzling dishes filled the air, mingling with the sound of clinking chopsticks and lively chatter. It was one of those classic Singapore eateries that seem to hold decades of memories within their walls.
Our food choices were, admittedly, a little constrained with Edmund being vegetarian, and Dan has a seafood allergy; so we had to skip many of the house specialties. Still, the meal turned out to be more about the conversation than the cuisine. We shared stories about work, travel, and random bits of life, punctuated with laughter and teasing. It’s remarkable how simple moments like this—an evening walk, a nostalgic story, a shared meal—can feel both grounding and joyful.
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