Sentosa

Sentosa is Singapore’s playground, and I say that without condescension. A 500-hectare island connected to the mainland by bridge, cable car, and monorail, it packs an improbable density of experiences into a space that takes twenty minutes to cross on foot. Universal Studios Singapore anchors the resort end, and its rides are genuinely excellent — the Battlestar Galactica roller coasters, one suspended and one sitting, run side by side in a duelling configuration that made me feel briefly like a teenager again, which is either the highest compliment I can pay or an admission I should not be making publicly.

But Sentosa also holds quieter surprises that most visitors miss. The Southern Ridges trail connects rainforest canopy walks with harbour views, and the transition from theme park noise to the sound of birdsong and wind through the canopy is so abrupt it feels like a glitch in the simulation. Fort Siloso preserves a colonial-era military installation with tunnels and bunkers to explore — we spent an hour walking through the fortifications, reading about the fall of Singapore in 1942, and the weight of that history sat heavily against the beach-party atmosphere a few hundred metres away.

The beaches — Palawan, Siloso, and Tanjong — are manufactured but well-maintained, with sand imported from Indonesia and water cleaned to a standard that satisfies even the most suspicious swimmer. I am from the south of France. I know beaches. These are not the Calanques. But they are pleasant, the water is warm, and the fact that a city-state of six million people has managed to produce a serviceable beach experience on a repurposed military island is its own kind of miracle.

We spent an afternoon at Tanjong Beach Club, which manages to feel like a Bali beach club transplanted to a city-state — white loungers, cocktails, a DJ playing something unobtrusive — and then walked to the southernmost point of continental Asia, marked by a small suspension bridge and a viewing platform. I stood there and looked south toward Indonesia and thought about how this tiny island, barely a dot on the map, had turned itself into something the rest of the world flies across oceans to see. The sign said “Southernmost Point of Continental Asia.” It felt more significant than it probably should.

The cable car from Mount Faber is the most scenic arrival — the cabin rises above the harbour, the container ships queuing below, the city skyline receding behind you, and for five minutes you are suspended between the mainland and the island in a glass box that makes the whole thing feel like a transit system designed by someone who also makes art installations. Take it at sunset if you can. The light does extraordinary things to the water.

When to go: Year-round. Weekdays are significantly less crowded than weekends. Book Universal Studios tickets online to skip queues. The cable car from Mount Faber is the most scenic arrival — and the evening ride back offers views of the lit-up harbour that justify the ticket price alone.