Singapore

I've had barely an hour's sleep when the phone goes. It's Rod, the band's manager, informing me that they've just arrived into Singapore from Moscow where they've just played the first show of their 2011 world tour. We discuss the forthcoming shows in Singapore, Jakarta and Bali and he suggests a change of plans for the interviews due to start tomorrow. I arrange to meet him tonight to catch up and finalise everything, but now that I'm awake I decide to get up and explore a bit of the city.

Before I hop in the shower I notice a piece of paper which has been thrust under the door. It's a notice from the hotel management informing guests of an "Islandwide Sounding Of Public Warning System On Total Defence Day". Seems that on Tuesday the Civil Defence Force will be conducting a sounding of the island sirens to educate the public and raise awareness. The alarms will sound for one minute. "Please do not be alarmed". How bizarre - and authoritarian! Talk about population control.

As I leave my hotel room I take in the vast pyramid style interior of the hotel. I'm staying at the Marina Mandarin and it reminds me of the multi-tiered atrium of the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas, almost a city in a building, albeit with the sound of clanging fruit machines replaced by the piped chatter of birdsong instead.

Singapore has, reputedly, a wonderful public transport system with the MRT subway, river boats and buses ferrying locals around with ease. Evangelus however told me that to visitors the system is complex and arcane while taxis are plentiful and cheap. So I hop in a cab for a ride across the city to the Botanic Gardens and sure enough, a 20 minute journey comes to just over £3. The driver proves a veritable tour guide as he points out sights like the Fountain of Wealth which we circle propitiously and various roads and districts, which would have been perfect if he hadn't been playing Simply Red's greatest hits at the same time.

The Botanic Gardens are breathtaking. Free to enter, they're an enormous yet tranquil oasis of colour and shade, but by God, it's hot. And humid. Very, very humid. My British winter-acclimatised body starts sweating the minute I start walking and I'm quickly aware that I'm both jetlagged and hungry - not a good idea in this heat.

I wander the Evolution Gardens past fossilised trees and primeval rainforest, watching butterflies gently flutter by and listening to the cicadas chirruping away, and make my way past the Symphony Lake to the National Orchid Gardens, where fortunately a restaurant hoves into view. Halia Restaurant is recommended in the guidebooks so I stop off for lunch, opting for an indoor table to take advantage of the welcome air-conditioning, whilst still being able to gaze out of the glass walls across the gardens.

Awards bedeck the entrance and it transpires that they have both Singapore chili crab noodles and Tiger beer, which is brewed here. So keeping it local I order both and fortify myself for the afternoon. Suitably refreshed I venture out into the sweltering haze and am stunned to see joggers plodding along barely breaking a sweat. This is going to take some getting used to.

My fellow promenaders are a mixture of tourists and locals, families, couples out for a romantic Sunday stroll and lonesome chaps like me with just a camera and guidebook for company. I pay my $5 to enter the Orchid Garden and it's worth every cent. Stunning displays of springtime blossoms are everywhere and the meandering paths lead me past waterfalls and fountains, through villas and even a cool house to simulate more mountainous climes. I linger there a while to soak up the chilled air.

After the Orchid Gardens come the Ginger Gardens where I walk through carved rock behind a waterfall and spot a lizard basking in the sun. And then on through the Sundial, Bonsai and Frangipani gardens, slurping on a blueberry icecream to stop me wilting.

After a wander around Swan Lake I eventually arrive at the exit at Tanglin Gate and walk down to Orchard Road, which from a distance beckons with its gleaming spires of modernity. This is the main shopping area in Singapore, like Fifth Avenue meets Oxford Street. It's the most visited 'attraction' on the island but I'm not fussed about loading up on the kind of stuff I can get at home. Everywhere I look is a parade of familiar names and logos - Starbucks, Diesel, Toys R Us, Gap, Prada, Emporio Armani, Hermes, Zara, Rolex, Louis Vuitton and even Marks & Spencer and Topshop. However, my hotel is at the bottom of this road and I estimate a 30 min stroll will get me there. How wrong I am!

Within minutes I'm engulfed in a throng of people and to cross the road we get swept into an underpass, which is a riot of neon and amplified music. Girls chatter and their clatter of heels is deafening and disorientating after the peace of the gardens. I take a wrong turn and end up in a bizarre foodhall called Tangs, which then turns out to be the basement floor of a huge department store called Tangs Plaza. There are thousands of people streaming from all sides, riding up and down escalators more crammed than the tube at rush hour. I fight my way out back on to Orchard Rd and find a seat to get my breath back and have some water. The heat has left me massively dehydrated and the jetlag makes everything heightened yet distant, almost like an out of body experience

Traffic police with whistles are directing people, buses and cars simultaneously, hordes of Chinese push past wearing masks, I stumble up against a shop front only to be accosted by a busty mannequin under a sign proclaiming House Of Condom. At every taxi rank are massive queues and after an hour I'm still only halfway down the road.

Eventually I get to Emerald Hill, a little enclave of traditional shops and bars harking back to colonial days. I stop for a bottle of water in a little bar, grateful for the whirring ceiling fans and resolve to get a taxi the rest of the way. Fortunately the next taxi rank is only a block away so I join the snaking queue and after 15 mins I'm inside a gloriously cool cab heading back to the hotel.

By the time I arrive there's no time for a sleep before meeting Rod so I opt for a quick dip in the pool to try and refresh myself. As I walk out I bump straight into Austin, singer of R2R, who are supporting on this tour. They've all been chilling out and having a swim and then I hear my name being called. Transpires lots of the road crew are also in this hotel and are all going out for dinner tonight in Little India.

I get back to the room just as Rod calls. He's going to get an early night but it means I get a chance to speak to John, the photographer who is already on the tour, about the pictures required for the feature. I suggest to him that we join the crew in Little India and discuss everything we need to get for the week ahead.

An hour later we're convening in the lobby, along with about eight of the road crew and pile into taxis to the Indian quarter. The taxis get separated and as we enter Little India, the chaos of Delhi is upon us. Thousands upon thousands of people line the streets, loud music blares, noise, sound, colour is everywhere. It's a little more polished than the real India, with a lot less poverty but the spirit is the same. Eventually we all regroup at the Mustafa Center and dive down little alleyways to Sayed Alim Road where we come upon a restaurant called the Poonusamy Hotel. It looks inviting so in we go and order up dishes of many hues - crab masala to mutton ghosh, tandoori chicken to spinach paneer, all washed down with lassis.

John and I discuss the photos we need of the band, from the plane to the stage, the vibrant locations to the backstage access. Plans are hatched and ideas confirmed, for here, Jakarta and Bali.With stomachs sated we stop off for a drink at a little sidestreet bar, but by the time we finish the cabs have all changed on to late shift and will not pick anyone up from the street at all. Stranded in a chaotic part of town we eventually offer a ridiculous sum of money to the driver of a people carrier who piles us all in and returns me to the hotel, while the others decide they're going to go seek out a party,

Mindful of an early start tomorrow, and the fact I've not had any meaningful sleep for 36 hours, I call it a night and sink into bed exhausted but happy.