We beat about narrow alleys, between low shop houses and freshly painted modern blocks of flats. Large palm leaves shade neatly kept lawns. Backs of the buildings are adorned with nice-looking spiral staircases.

Mouthwatering scents coming from opened kitchen windows fill the air. A huge painted peacock and goatling peek from the murals. In one of the side streets – a scene from life of Singapore. It’s hard to say whether it is past or present. Reading the future, eating lunch at the hawker centre and petting nuzzling tomcat is timeless here.

Strolling between the walls, either colourfully vibrant or snow-white shiny, we reach a hill where our destination should be.

Through a narrow path, almost entirely overgrown by a mini-jungle we reach the stairs and climb to the top of a green hill. A panoramic view from here takes our breath away. It perfectly sums up Singapore – old, screaming with colours shop houses against the background of modern, glass-and-steel skyscrapers. Yesterday and today – side by side, a wall in a wall. Apart from the stunning view, however, there is nothing here.

An accidentally met passerby explains that no, it is not here. That we turned too early. That we have to go back to the stairs and the overgrown path. And then walk some more, along the main road.

A few meters further there is a church, a bus stop, and another hill. Its summit is crowned by the remains of the stone structure. Dense jungle, stemmed by a human hand, tirelessly tries to take over the place. Green tentacles stretch toward the stone lions guarding a low, extensive tomb. Its crumbling walls suggest that it was once part of an impressive building. Now it borders with a jungle – a tropical and an urban one. A stone testimony of the transience of human destiny, in the green embrace of invariably lasting nature.