When I arrived from Hong Kong in 1997, the biggest worry was whether Singapore would be boring. Three decades later, both the city and my life here look very different.

The other day a woman asked me how long I had lived in Singapore.

“When did you move here?”

“1997,” I said.

She gave me a funny look.

“You mean 2007?”

“No. 1997.”

She made a strange noise as she recalculated and, to be honest, I thought, wow, that really is a long time. When did that become almost three decades? I was in SF for a bit in between, and for the last three years or so I have also been back and forth between the UK and France.

Back in ‘97 Singapore was known for being efficient, orderly, safe and clean. And there was the always incorrectly remembered bit about chewing gum being illegal. It actually isn’t. You can buy it in a pharmacy, you just have to pass across your personal details when you do. In fact you also have to give your details to the pharmacist when you buy Piriton, which I discovered the other day.

Either way, “a desirable place to live” was not a phrase people commonly used to describe Singapore at the time.

I moved from Hong Kong to Singapore in 1997, and many of my colleagues moved at the same time. I worked for a TV company with many channels, including the now defunct MTV and the sports channel STAR Sports, which merged with the Singapore-based ESPN. Many of us relocated to be part of that merger. It also happened to be the year the Asian financial crisis began to ripple across the region, although at the time most of us were far more concerned about whether Singapore would be fun enough to live in.

The main concern, as I remember it, was that the nightlife in Singapore would not live up to the party city that was Hong Kong.

The contrast was obvious.

Hong Kong was loud, exciting, full of opportunity and, if you wanted it to be, relentless. Singapore, by comparison, felt a bit boring if I’m honest.

When I first arrived in Hong Kong I landed at the old airport, and that in itself was a pretty cool experience. We were so close to the surrounding apartment blocks as we landed that you could actually see into people’s homes as we flew by. Not very nice for the people living there, and a few years later that airport closed.

I was staying with a friend’s brother and had arranged to meet him in a bar in Wan Chai called the Flying Pig. Wan Chai was, well, hard to describe maybe more like Patong in Thailand than the glamorous expat Hong Kong life I had imagined.

My friend’s brother lived in a pretty exclusive area called Mid-Levels and I remember walking out onto the balcony, catching my breath and feeling butterflies in my stomach as I looked down and then out at the lights flickering around me. I have never quite had that same feeling in any other city since.

My new reality in Singapore was that nightlife ended at 2am. That alone generated endless conversation in an office full of people who were used to a city that barely slept.

I remember colleagues genuinely wondering how they would survive without the late nights and the energy of Hong Kong.

It sounds totally absurd now but there you go. I am now a 55-year-old, post-menopausal woman with two teenage children, carving out a new career for myself, and how long I can stay up at night is more of the question than how long I can stay out at night.

Singapore today is hardly short on nightlife. Rooftop bars, beach clubs, Formula One, international DJs and bands that once bypassed the city. There is also now a steady stream of Michelin-star restaurant openings. The city that once felt a bit boring now actively markets vibrancy as part of its identity and its international reputation.

I remember back in ‘97 walking down Orchard Road looking for somewhere to sit outside at a café, and Starbucks at Wheelock Place was the only one I can remember. At the far end of Orchard Road there was also a beautifully renovated former convent called CHIJMES, full of bars and restaurants where you could sit outside, but that was pretty much it.

Singapore’s rise as a desirable place to live and work did not happen overnight.

Part of it was Singapore itself: the infrastructure, the safety, the stability, and the sense that things simply work. And parts of the city look pretty magnificent now, particularly around the CBD, the Singapore Flyer and Marina Bay.

But a bigger part of it, I think, is the wider world. As other places became more expensive — and in some cases more uncertain or harder to navigate — Singapore began to look increasingly attractive. Its cost of living can certainly be debated, but it is possible to live more cheaply here than many people assume. Lots of residents regularly eat in food courts and shop at wet markets. Cars, on the other hand, can be eye-wateringly expensive — sometimes costing as much as a small house.

Singapore also started to look very good on television. Crazy Rich Asians showed a side of the city that many people had not seen before.

For many people it offered a sense of security and a gateway to Asia without the unpredictability that often comes with fast-growing cities. I remember being in Bangkok years ago and seeing so many half-constructed buildings that it looked as though the builders had simply walked away never to return.

What once felt orderly now felt reassuring. What once seemed quiet now felt secure. And it certainly is not so quiet anymore.

Working here has also changed in perception.

When I arrived, Singapore often felt like a bit of an outpost. A place people came to for a few years before moving on, often back home, at least for the Australians and maybe the Americans. Not so much for the Irish and British, who always seemed happier to stay. I suspect the weather had something to do with that.

Now Singapore is widely seen as a destination in its own right. A place where people build careers, raise families and stay far longer than they originally planned. That is, of course, as long as they can maintain their working visa or permanent resident status.

Actually getting a visa here now can be a challenge in itself, but I would say it is not impossible. There are various routes worth exploring.

Very few people imagine that a move in 1997 might quietly turn into almost three decades.

Relocation rarely feels permanent when you begin. It usually starts with a contract, a plan or a few years of curiosity. I think I initially planned to be here for a year.

Then life happens around it. Marriage, children, jobs — and suddenly the “temporary move” has quietly become a life.