The final leg

31st January 2011 - Koti Tinggi to Singapore - 48.26 miles, av 10, max 25.9, ride time 4hrs 47mins

Horrendous in a word. There are no photos of this bit as the rain fell in monsoon sheets from the moment we set off til we arrived in central Singapore. The road conditions were horrendous not just in terms of rain but also the state of the road on the main drag into Johor Bahru, the last city before Singapore.

At one point we managed to avoid a pothole about 8ft across and on the other side of it, 5 cars all with blown out tyres after being less fortunate than us. Cycling into Johor is not for the feint hearted but one tip we followed and have already recommended for others is follow the first sign that says to the customs point with a weight limit of 5 tons and you end up opposite the motorbike entrance to Woodlands the complex built as a crossing point from Malaysia to Singapore. Immigration and customs were more interested in our journey than most and we emerged onto the bridge that separates these 2 nations. 

Cycling for another 5 minutes puts you in Singapore where the regulation and rigour that awaits your stay here starts. Quick stamps, asking the local police the best way into the city and we were off, ignoring their advice that they 'thought' it would be ok to use the highway/expressway and settled for the slightly longer route circumventing this. 

I was not in a great mood to enjoy the sights as we cycled into Sing and part of this was we by far in a way needed a more detailed map and secondly there are more traffic lights in Sing than I have ever seen anywhere in the world. 

Lunch was a quick stop and to get some cash then we hunted out Arab street and our home for the next 5 days - 'sleepy sams'. we arrived, checked in, stored the bikes, and sat for a bit to calm the mental whirling that had befallen us on our last day of riding. It did not feel like elation, more dejection that after so many revolutions we would not be riding like we had for a while longer in our lives.

Dinner in the Moroccan restaurant opposite SS was a good end to the day but when my head hit the pillow that night, I felt there really was some unfinished business.