Singapore on a budget: $30

With a measly few bills in my pocket, I hotfoot it to the makeshift Chinatown Complex Temporary Market & Food Centre in pursuit of the $2 bak chor mee I heard sells out before dusk. Arriving at 7.16pm, I get there just in time and order the last bowl of the day at Tew Chew St Mushroom Minced Meat Noodle (#01-153).

My next stop is Union Square, which is teeming with salsa enthusiasts dressed in dance-friendly gear – think flirty skirts, heels and colours – who bob in before 9pm to dodge the $15 non-member cover charge. I’m charmed by the strangers who politely ask if I’d like to dance and then actually thank me afterwards. This is definitely different from the common nightclub approach where rudely bumping into or shyly dancing around a girl (and her friends) constitutes as ‘making a move’.

I agree to dance with a tall, dark and not-so-handsome stranger. Bless his soul and bruised feet, he’s too courteous to rescind the offer after learning of my absolute inexperience, and agrees to teach me some basic steps. I leave soon after, embarrassed but with a new respect for salsa dancing and the indisputable discovery that I indeed have two left feet.

Conscious of my cash restrictions, I take an 18-minute bus ride to Bugis and then walk another 30 to revel in the people-watching opportunities at Mustafa Centre. I spot my boyfriend waiting for me and immediately launch into my salsa story as we jostle our way through the surprising swarm of 2am shoppers, locals and tourists . We hear the intercom crackle: ‘Mr Singh, please come to the information counter. Your wife is waiting for you and you have a flight to catch.’ We look around eagerly, but don’t see any sign of Mr Singh.

Remarkably bag-free, we leave Mustafa and head back to town. But first we silence the hunger pangs with cholesterol-busting thosai ($1.20) and a warm, milky teh tarik ($0.80) at CMK Restaurant. Back on Orchard Road, we walk by Istana Park and spy couples going at it in the dark. I’m a little surprised that they find that spot romantic. Maybe it’s just me who equates the word Istana with the rather unromantic image of the Members of Parliament. That said, the park is centrally located, you do get a superb view of the stars and some privacy, but wouldn’t the infamous East Coast’s carpark G be much more suitable? It’s secluded, if you don’t mind the cab ride and the scent of eau de bug spray. We consider passing the tip to the kissing couple, but think better of disturbing them and move on.

Intrigued by the seedier aspects of late-night Singapore, we board the last bus to Geylang, the NightRider NR7, just before 5am. Here, we check out the even-numbered lorongs (Malay for ‘lanes’), where the world’s oldest profession is clearly in action, and play ‘Guess which country this streetwalker is from?’ Lorong 12 seems to boast the most thriving international trade.

After a short while, I’ve trained my eyes to separate the buyers from the ‘big brothers’, although I’m not sure how this skill will ever come in handy. I also notice I’m getting too much attention from the male population, even though I’m just wearing an old T-shirt and jeans. I can’t help but wonder how much I would fetch in the open market.

By this time, we’re starving and grab quick sustenance at Yong He Eating House. We munch on fried you tiao ($0.80), drink soya bean ($1) and savour the speciality, toasted bun with meat floss and egg ($2.40), while waiting for the bus, which finally arrives at 6.30am. Though the restaurant was bustling with a mix of young and old, of early risers and late-night clubbers, the roads on the coach’s residential route are deserted ; and the few passengers onboard are just as sluggish as I am.