It is 10 pm. The worst heat of the day has subsided to a comfortable 30 degrees Celsius. Thousands of people flood the streets and local markets, eager for the communion of consumption.

We walk the street - our skins alive with the caress of the sea-muggy air. Every corner you turn brings a different smell - bags of dried fish and shrimp, incense swirling around a group of devotees praying at a temple, sweet watermelon pulp at the sticky juice stands, roasted duck and chicken, fried rice and boiling cauldrons of shrimp soup, steaming pork intestines and Soya sauce and chillies and men's cologne, exhaust fumes and sweat. The broth of life boils high in Asia and one cannot help but fall in love with her clammy, sensual excess.

The local people are kind and look you in the eyes when they speak. Both Gill and I feel at home here - like we can breathe.

Gill and I have dragged our 80kg of bike boxes and cycling kit across hostile London and have finally found a home in a tiny, but airconditioned room at Cozy Corner GuestHouse on North Bridge Road in the heart of Singapore's bustle. It is good to be on the move again and to be in a place where one can afford basic food and lodging without frantic mental conversions of Rands to British Pounds.

For dinner of we treated ourselves to eggs, duck and pig innards and noodle soup for less than two Pounds. Asia, here we come!