Kampong Glam & Arab Street – Silk, scent, and shadow beneath the golden dome.

In the heart of the city, Kampong Glam glows like an old poem illuminated in gold. The Sultan Mosque rises above narrow streets, its dome catching the afternoon sun. The air is thick with the scent of oud, coffee, and jasmine. You wander through Arab Street, where silk scarves spill from wooden stalls, and carpets hang like tapestries of time. The sound of a call to prayer drifts from the mosque, low and resonant. Lanterns sway overhead; laughter drifts from a café where oud music plays softly. You pause to sip mint tea, the glass warm in your hands. The shopkeeper tells you stories of the quarter—how traders once came by sea, bringing spices and faith, both still lingering in the air. As dusk falls, the dome glows against a lavender sky. Lamps flicker to life one by one. The alleyways shimmer, half-shadow, half-gold. Kampong Glam is not nostalgia—it is living heritage, a song that refuses to fade.