#TrendSing: Launch into your inner space at Palm Avenue Float Club

On my 26th birthday, I paid homage to my birth by climbing back into the womb.

Well not exactly — my mother’s not likely to welcome the idea — but something similar. No, I climbed into a giant water-filled egg and had all sensory input eliminated.

In other words, I floated.

For those unfamiliar with floating, here’s what it entails: you enter a man-sized chamber that’s been filled with water highly concentrated in special salts, creating a dense solution that supports effortless buoyancy. Settling in on top of the water, your body is freed from the effects of gravity, essentially creating a zero-gravity environment. The water is heated to skin temperature, conveying the tactile illusion of floating in mid-air. Close the hatch, turn off the lights and basically you’re serenely floating in darkness, freed from your sensations of temperature, touch, sight and sound.

Though not a new conception (isolation tanks have been around since the ‘50s and were first used by neuroscientist and psychonaut John C. Lilly), floatation therapy has returned to mainstream popularity in America due to the impassioned floating advocation by renowned comedian and podcaster Joe Rogan and, of course, that Vice documentary. And, as with everything that’s popular on the internet, the world caught on, including Singapore.

There aren’t that many services like it offered here now, but one place — located near Kembangan MRT station at 20 Waringin Park — kept coming up in our social circles as the place to dip your toes (and body) into your first floating experience.

So I went.

The decor here is so minimalist and modern Zen that waves of transquility hit you even as you walk into the place. There’s also that offbeat Laughing Buddha statue (it had a snapback and shades on), the longboards leaning against the wall and the tender tunes of Tycho playing on the speakers, all of which contributed to the feel of a shimmering halcyon.

Palm Avenue Float Club founder and owner Derrick Foo, a strapping figure exuding a sense of calm and composure belying his youth, welcomes me.

Foo reveals the origins of Palm Avenue Float Club: practising Muay Thai in California while on an overseas exchange program and meeting other gym members who introduced him to mixed martial arts. His interest in the sport grew, chancing upon the works of prominent Ultimate Fighting Championship personality Joe Rogan and his podcast show The Joe Rogan Experience, where he occasionally shares his insights and positive personal experience in isolation tanks. Foo was intrigued.

His first time in the pod wasn’t positive. “To be honest, I was quite bored lah, ” he laughs. “I didn’t give it a second chance until eight months after that.”

Isolation therapy floated back into his consciousness after he watched Vice‘s clip, and he flew to Taiwan to try it out again last year. He went for repeated floating sessions for three days, and that experience converted him into a devotee. “I just stopped worrying so much, and felt a lot calmer and nicer. The following months saw a couple of changes — I started eating healthier, getting into shape and even quit smoking!” he exclaims.

Foo soon bought a tank and had it shipped over to his bungalow house in Palm Avenue (hence the name), running sessions temporarily in his private abode. Afterwards he invested in two more pods, then moved the whole establishment to its current location.

Back to my experience — Foo, the emissary for my first launch into inner space, ushers me into a room.

Inside, I’m greeted by a Portal-like pod, more welcoming than alienating. He runs me through the procedures: use the provided shower facility before stepping into the tank, which were emanating varying colors of soft hues. Two buttons glisten inside — the blue controls the lights, the red is for emergencies. He asks me to let go completely of any pre-conceptions, anxiety and doubt about floating — my experience will be what it will be.

Fresh from the shower I climb into the pod, naked as the day I was born, and close the hatch.

Phase 1: Encapsulation

Laying down in the water, I have to make sure my face isn’t submerged, as the solution will irritate the eyes and nasal passages. Not long after, my ears are blocked by the water, audible volume substantially reduced; I can hear is the faint murmur of music playing underwater. Five minutes later, the music stops and I take it as my cue to switch off the lights. Total blackness ensues. By now I’m ‘floating’ freely, even bouncing from side to side and getting used the zero-G environment. I say to myself, This is actually pretty fun.

Phase 2: Ennui

Actually… This is pretty boring. The novelty of the buoyancy has worn off and a lack of stimuli is setting in. I’m really starting to feel like my skin and the water around me have become one. It’s really something that takes getting used to; this absence of the senses, and I yearn for something to happen. Bored, I float/rotate (floatate?) my body so that my head is now on the other side of the tank. It feels a lot darker on the other side, so I stay there while shifting my legs and arms trying to finding the right, comfortable position to wait out the rest of the hour.

Phase 3: Entropy (and astral projection)

It gets pretty quiet in here, and the things that you don’t notice, like breathing, suddenly become really prominent. I am fully aware that I’m breathing, and also aware that I’m beginning to do it much slower. At the same time my mind begins to accept that my body is feeling absolutely nothing as my sensations liquify and diffuse into the solution. I completely let go and actually feel an odd ceasing to be, a state of relaxation I’ve never felt before. In my mind, I begin creating scenes of my friends that are not actual memories. I’m observing what they’re doing and every once in awhile, get pulled back into my present location in the infinite capsule of darkness. I keep drifting in and out of total consciousness in this manner, my body making involuntary jerks in the water each time it happens. (Astral projection, is that you?)

I think I blank out for a bit before being woken up by the gently moving water, signalling my time is up. I climb out of the pod, feeling incredibly rested and refreshed, and honestly a little strange.

Derrick Foo is right outside talking to three customers about to go next. As he goes through the motions of explaining the procedures to them, he leaves me to gather my thoughts then comes to me, expressing his delight in being the first person to welcome isolation therapy newcomers. All this while he controls the conditions of the three isolation tanks from his MacBook Pro.

“I feel like I’m sending them to school,” he laughs.

Sounds like he’s getting a healthy stream of customers — being consistently fully booked most weekends — so I ask him if he thinks float therapy will take off as a trend in Singapore.

“I think more and more people know about it but not a lot want to try it yet,” he says, explaining that fears of claustrophobia and lack of control have prevented some from experiencing it themselves.

Despite that, many and from different backgrounds have given it a shot. I browse the guestbook, which contained trippy illustrations and testimonials of past customers, finding little narratives from bankers to musicians to sportsmen.

“They always come back, and the experience gets better and better every time,” says Foo, and I believe him.

10/10 will float again.

Photo: Ungku Ibrahim/Palm Avenue Float Club; Ilyas Sholihyn; David DeHetre via Flickr



Reader Interactions

Leave A Reply


BECOME A COCO+ MEMBER

Support local news and join a community of like-minded
“Coconauts” across Southeast Asia and Hong Kong.

Join Now
Coconuts TV
Our latest and greatest original videos
Subscribe on