It’s early March and the daffodils are out. Narcissus flowers are blooming (left). This time of the year usually, the flowers are still hiding. But the last weekend I spent in Cardiff, it felt that spring had sprung.

Not too soon though for the poor folks in the British Isles – there’ve been so much rain and bad weather (yes, worse than usual) that I hear parts of the country are still under water.

The taxi driver who picked me up from the airport said I brought the sunshine from Singapore. Thank goodness it was only the sunshine I brought, and not the haze which has been choking me since I returned.

At Cardiff airport, I was the only non-EU person who disembarked from the KLM City Hopper flight from Amsterdam. And so I get the royal treatment from the woman manning the “All other passports” counter.

She couldn’t believe I had flown all the way from Singapore to spend three days in Cardiff.  I could have told her many people wouldn’t believe I flew in from anywhere to spend three days in Cardiff because whenever I tell friends my destination (after Berlin), they always give me the goldfish look and gob.

Anyway, I was asked a litany of questions and had to produce my ticket to prove I would be leaving – thank goodness, I had a printout – and she even keyed in the name of my friend with whom I was staying. Sorry, PW, you’re now on the official Welsh immigration record as “friend of alien”.

When she asked me what I intended to do during my stay, I said, “I hope to eat a lot.” And I did.

Cardiff is the place I go to for home-cooked meals of the Welsh variety. Roast lamb of rack, roast pork and crackling, peas, mashed potatoes, leeks, trifle – there’s a lot to be said for good old traditional fare.

I think sometimes restaurants try too hard to go all fancy … but I guess they have to make us think it’s worth us paying more for tarted-up food.

On the way from the airport, I saw a car on fire. I thought it was a scene from Dr Who but it turned out to be a real fire. Bits were exploding in the air and still, cars were zipping past as though it was an everyday occurrence.

Maybe they too thought it was a scene from Torchwood (also filmed in Cardiff). 

I took advantage of the good weather to explore Cardiff Bay. This reminds me of home. Seriously. It has a barrage just like the Marina Barrage in Singapore where I walk to regularly. The bay area feels like Marina Bay – only smaller and less skyscraper-like.

Everyone is out enjoying the rare sunshine and mild temperatures. Some are even in shorts.

I walk the length of the bay to visit the Dr Who Experience. There’s his yellow car. The sign says, “Please do not sit in the car” but there’s a small boy in there pretending to be the good doctor.

I like that people can’t be that bothered with rules here. In Singapore, everyone would go, tsk tsk and point their fingers and some official would have appeared and ordered him out of the car. Here, everyone laughed while the mother pleaded for him to get out.

I didn’t get to see the famous phone booth because it’s in the area that’s closed. Next time …

If you follow Torchwood, you’ll also know that one of the much-loved characters, Ianto Jones, died and there’s a shrine dedicated to him asking, why did he have to die? My friend, who was with me, thought it was a real person who’d died and she said, “He must have been very loved.” 

It’s sometimes hard to draw the line between fact and fiction these days.

Fact though is I enjoyed my short stay thoroughly, reveled in the sunshine as I walked through Bute Park near Cardiff Castle (Cardiff has lovely, well-maintained parks right in the city centre) and yes, ate a lot.