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The Warehouse: Singapore’s boutique past meets its present

In Singapore, where the past has often been sacrificed in favour of the future, Leigh-Ann Pow discovers a new boutique hotel that makes the most of its history.

 

Singapore has long been celebrated for its frenetic pace and its pursuit of all that is new. It is what has made the small island nation such an economic and social success over the years. But this narrow focus on ‘the next’ above all else has also sometimes resulted in the wanton sacrifice of the touchstones of its fascinating history.

But in recent years the focus has shifted and the government and developers are working to preserve what is left of the country’s historic buildings, including its celebrated shophouses. The Warehouse Hotel in the Robertson Quay area of the city is another example of a heritage building being repurposed and reimagined to stunning effect.

Sitting on the very edge of the Singapore River, the former lifeblood of the city, the building dates to 1895, when Singapore was part of the bustling Straits of Malacca trade route. In the pursuing years, as trade slowed, the area became a magnet for secret societies, illegal liquor distilleries, prostitution and ne’er-do-wells busying themselves in all manner of lascivious dealings.

 

The recent restoration of the bonded warehouse has resulted in a 37-room boutique hotel that manages to be ultra-modern while still paying the utmost respect to the bones of the building. In a city where new buildings are stretching ever skywards, there have been no gratuitous add-ons here, no extra floors crammed in to maximise profits. The whole thing presents as if the hotel has been slotted into the existing building without ever coming into contact with the original.

This respect for the scale and layout of the structure is evident as soon as you walk into the expansive lobby, a cool space that makes perfect use of the lofty pitched ceilings. On the left there is an unassuming reception desk, all sleek lines and clear purpose, manned by a young staff in meticulously minimal uniforms. Guests are invited to sit a while in leather couches that almost hug you as you sink into them.

An icy welcome drink of hibiscus cordial and ginger is delivered from the sunken lobby bar in the opposite corner. Overhead design-conscious pendant lighting mixes with a cluster of industrial wheels and pulleys to form a hanging art installation.

 

There are a few rooms off the lobby, which transforms into a schmoozy, low-lit bar for locals and guests after dark, but the bulk of the rooms are up a wide metal staircase that hugs the brick wall to the right of the space. These have a similar colour palette as downstairs, subdued neutrals and tones of grey, as well as benefiting space-wise from equally lofty ceilings.

All the usual elements that make up a room are exposed here, becoming part of the décor instead of blending into it: the wardrobe is an open rail with shelving underneath, the bathroom is visible through large wrought iron and glass windows, with the toilet and huge shower behind frosted glass doors within.

There is a smattering of furniture, all of which has a retro mid-20th century feel to it, and an enormous pillow-top bed swathed in fluffy down pillows and crisp white linens. The mini bar is well stocked with locally curated products, including the cheeky option of having adult toys delivered to your room, but it is the complimentary tea and coffee making facilities that stamp the design credentials of the property above all else: the tea is by local specialty tea company A.muse Project, while the coffee is a seriously strong and wonderfully intricate filter bag proposition that transforms the making of a morning brew into high art. The kettle plays its part too; it is a Japanese designer number that I have spent months prowling the internet in pursuit of; I can only find the stove-top version not the electric one used here.

 

Each of the rooms is a variation on the theme, some with river views, some with views out to the local neighbourhood; the River View Mezzanine is one of the largest available, spread over two levels and complete with its own library space. All have access to the infinity pool that is attached to the side of the property, one of the few retro-fitted features added to the existing footprint. The pool’s glass sides provide quite the view for the motorists whizzing by on the busy roads that it overlooks.

The Warehouse Hotel, a member of the Design Hotels collective, was realised by the Lo & Behold Group, a local company with a roster of modern designer restaurants and bars, and a beach club, to its name. So, it’s fitting that the on-site restaurant, Po, is a destination dining experience in its own right. Guests can make use of it for breakfast, lunch and dinner, rubbing shoulders with locals who come for chef Willin Low’s Mod-Sin menu of reinterpreted nostalgic comfort food (Po stands for popo, grandmother in Mandarin) like veal cheek rendang and seafood congee.

Guests can always venture into the surrounding neighbourhood, an ex-pat enclave with plenty of dining options at Robertson Quay, and the slightly more touristy Clarke Quay a 20-minute walk away along the river, but at the end of the day, returning to the gently lit lobby and another one of those delicious hibiscus cordials encapsulates the irresistible old-meets-new allure of this ever-evolving city.

 

Another Singapore boutique hotel we like… Hotel Mono

Another recent addition to the roster of boutique hotels in Singapore, Hotel Mono, pictured left, occupies a row of old shophouses in the Chinatown neighbourhood. For anyone who has a healthy respect for the power of a black and white palette, this place is a gem: it adheres to a strict monotone aesthetic throughout, from the furniture to the umbrellas in the lobby to the bathrooms in each of the compact rooms. While space is at a premium throughout, each of the 46 rooms has everything needed for a comfortable stay, including fast wi-fi, soft beds and communal areas with space to relax. Outside, Chinatown has the kind of dining, shopping and drinking options that characterise the city.

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These community homestays are changing how travellers experience Nepal

    After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers? 

    In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.  

    Tharu dance
    Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?  

    Nepal gray langur
    Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?  

    How tourism is changing in Nepal

    Bardiya National Park
    Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.  

    Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.  

    “Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.   

    Local men in Bhada village
    Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”  

    Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.” 

    CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.  

    A new generation demanding more

    Dalla Town Hall
    Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”  

    We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”  

    Boudha Stupa's prayer wheels
    Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you… 

    bouda stupa prayer flags
    Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.  

    Boudha Stupa vendors
    Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.  

    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi
    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.  

    Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.  

    Life unfiltered in the Terai region

    tharu woman
    Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.  

    Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.  

    safari through Bardiya National Park
    Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.  

    Marigolds
    Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    “The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.  

    On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.  

    community homestay entrance
    A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.  

    The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.  

    In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.  

    food at community homestay
    Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.  

    The power of community homestays 

    community homestay owners in Nepal
    Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.  

    “I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?” 

    The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed. 

    Sonara community room
    An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.  

    Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.  

    CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.  

    “Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.  

    Elephant watch
    Elephant watch. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.  

    Gathering greens
    Gathering greens. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    “We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.” 

    Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”  

    Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal