Two colleagues. Two generations – one Gen Z and one Millennial. One thing we have in common? 2025 drained the life out of us.
We’ve tried exercise. We’ve tried the Calm app. We’ve tried replacing screentime with an extra hour of sunlight. But we’re both still tired.
So when we received an invitation to check out Dopamine Land, we were intrigued. Could a 9-room sensory playground in Sentosa really cure our shared ennui? There was only one way to find out.
After all, dopamine is often thrown around as a buzzword. It’s basically the brain’s “reward” chemical, released when you experience pleasure, novelty, or anticipation.
In theory, Dopamine Land promised all of that: colour, play, nostalgia, and sensory stimulation designed to give your brain a little hit of happiness.
We went through Dopamine Land in the same order, from the neon hit of Colourtopia all the way to the quiet, cosmic calm of Cosmic Oasis, but what we noticed, loved, and side-eyed along the way…. was remarkably similar, despite the fact that one of us is 27, and the other is turning 40.
Maybe age is just a number after all?
Let’s start at the beginning:
The Lobby
Kai: Overwhelming is the word. I was hit immediately with neon lights, vibrant pink and yellow walls, and people instinctively pulling out their phones to start filming the place. There are plenty of spots for photo ops – almost too many, to the point where I was almost frozen in place because I didn’t know which to explore first.
That said, the highlight in this room for me was not even the visuals; it was the VR cinema station. The experience felt incredibly realistic, with vibrating seats and sudden bursts of air to mimic the woosh of a rollercoaster drop. And strangely enough, it was the most calming thing in this room because my eyes could take a break with the VR headset shielding them from all the colours and lights haha.
Diane: Beanbags, neon signs, a fridge full of Gatorade – this was basically my dream bedroom in 2001. I could feel my long-dormant joy emerging already.
I couldn’t resist. I plunged, butt-first, into a bathtub filled with plastic balls, a childlike delight overwhelming my senses as I fished out a couple of squeaky rubber ducks. Only to realise, too late, that I couldn’t pull myself out. Nothing drains feel-good hormones like the crushing reality that your core has been rendered useless by age and the ravages of an exercise-less life.
🧠 Dopamine score: 4/5
Colourtopia
Diane: Greeted by a literal splash of colour. This is how I feel on the inside after having one too many iced coffees. The cubic rainbow in the middle looked pretty alluring, but once inside, I couldn’t deal with the smell of latex and with the strips of – I think it was rubber – obscuring my vision.
Kai: From my end, Colourtopia was more style than substance. It’s basically neon paint on all four sides, with a trippy centre that left me slightly disoriented as I walked through it.
Once the initial visuals wore off, not much was actually happening. You’re not interacting with anything – just walking, looking, and taking photos. Low-key, it reminded me of illumi run: striking at first, but then it becomes more about the vibes than any engagement.
Beyond the colours, there wasn’t anything for me to latch onto.
🧠 Dopamine score: 2/5
Scribblescape
Kai: In hindsight, Scribblescape probably would’ve worked better at the end of the experience. It’s literally a blank canvas – white walls, white floors, white furniture – where you’re free to draw whatever you want.
Creative freedom is great in theory, but standing in a stark white room with marker pens somehow gave off mild prison-cell vibes? It’s one of those spaces where your enjoyment really depends on how imaginative you’re feeling that day. If you’re already creatively drained, the pressure to “do something fun” here can feel oddly exhausting.
Diane: The first thing I spotted was a giant 67 scribbled near the doorway because, of course. Artwork aside, I’m not really sure how this room is supposed to trigger a dopamine release. Blame it on the lack of windows, but I agree that this felt a bit more like I was in jail, or like in a cartoonish caricature of an asylum.
🧠 Dopamine score: 2.5/5
Neon Nebula
Kai: This one was pretty fun, pretty straightforward. Neon balloons everywhere, floating and bouncing in all directions, creating that chaotic, childlike joy that immersive experiences love to tap into.
It doesn’t ask much of you; you don’t have to think, pose, or perform. You just step in, let the colours hit you, and exist for a bit. Simple, sensory, and honestly one of the easier rooms to enjoy without overthinking.
Diane: Call me a boomer, but now I finally get why my toddler is so obsessed with balloons. Novelty apparently triggers a dopamine release, so this definitely worked, because how often does anyone over the age of 10 get to play in a balloon party?
🧠 Dopamine score:5/5
Sunset Lagoon
Kai: I’ll be honest, my first thought was: erm, germ central anyone?
It’s a giant ball pit set against a dreamy sunset backdrop, and visually, it does look very pretty. But once you remember that this is a shared space with lots of people, the illusion breaks a little. I found myself more cautious than carefree, which kind of defeats the purpose of frolicking in a ball pit like you’re five again.
Diane: As much as I thought this would remind me of being a kid, all it reminded me of was the time I caught hand-foot-mouth disease. Also, kids would for sure get trampled here.
🧠 Dopamine score: 5/5 for kids, probably 0/5 for parents
Chromodance
Kai: So. Much. Stimuli.
Between the flashing lights, loud music, mirrored walls, and glowing floor tiles, Chromodance felt like sensory overload turned up to max. I initially thought the tiles would light up based on where you stepped, which would’ve made it more interactive. Instead, they follow a preset pattern synced to each track on the jukebox.
It’s still fun if you’re ready to let loose, but if you walked in expecting a reactive, game-like experience, it might fall a little short.
Diane: The great thing about being a 39-year-old millennial is that you always have painkillers in your purse. I really needed them after this. I would’ve liked this room a lot more if the tiles were responsive or gamified, because at least that would’ve triggered my brain’s reward response.
🧠 Dopamine score: 1/5
Cushion Clash
Kai: I mean, having a pillow fight in an inflatable arena is objectively quite fun. There’s something very primal about just whacking your friends with cushions and not thinking too hard about it.
This also felt like one of the more parent-friendly spaces; kids can go absolutely ham while adults stand on the side, supervise, or honestly, take a quick mental break. It’s chaotic, but in a way that feels intentionally silly rather than overwhelming.
Diane: I briefly felt the joy children feel on a bouncy castle. Until I spotted the sign saying that jumping isn’t actually allowed. I guess I could see myself lying down here while scrolling through TikTok? Which isn’t a healthy way to trigger dopamine, but well, a stimulant is a stimulant.
🧠 Dopamine score: 3/5
Cave of Tactility
Kai: Not a fan.
I get what they were going for, a tactile, immersive space that encourages exploration through touch, but the foam pit section made me feel weirdly claustrophobic. Digging myself out felt less “sensory wonder” and more “why am I trapped here?”.
If you’re someone who loves enclosed, touch-heavy experiences, this might work for you. For me, it was the room I wanted to exit the fastest.
Diane: This is the closest I’ll ever feel to being trapped in the Upside Down, or perhaps in the belly of a whale. Maybe it was the stark orange lighting or the tight space, but I noped out after about 0.3 seconds here.
🧠 Dopamine score: 0/5
Euphoria Grove
Kai: This was easily one of the calmer, more restorative rooms, and honestly, I could totally see myself taking a midday nap here.
Soft lighting, nature-inspired visuals, gentle sounds, it felt like the antidote to everything that came before it. After all the colour, noise, and movement, Euphoria Grove was where my nervous system finally unclenched a little.
Diane: Nothing like an Avatar-esque liminal space to help me regulate after my panic-filled foray into the Cave of Tactility. NGL I considered redownloading the Calm app just because it’d be so shiok to use it in this room.
🧠 Dopamine score: 5/5
Cosmic Oasis
Kai: This room immediately reminded me of that gallery at the ArtScience Museum (iykyk).
Mirrors, infinite reflections, glowing lights, it’s visually stunning and designed to make you slow down and look up. It’s less playful and more contemplative, which made it a fitting way to end the experience. After all the chasing of dopamine, Cosmic Oasis felt like a quiet exhale.
Diane: Romantic attraction and flirting trigger dopamine, so if anything, you could use this room to confess your love? Or hold hands for the first time? Okay, I’m kind of reaching here, but as a burnt-out millennial who hasn’t exercised in two years, I REALLY want to believe in Dopamine Land.
🧠 Dopamine score: 3/5
Post-dopamine high thoughts:
Kai: When, and if, I’m craving dopamine, I’ll stick to my relaxing jogs with my noise-cancelling AirPods. That hour inside Dopamine Land was enough to send me home popping two tablets of Panadol ActivFast to deal with the headache that started midway through the walkthrough.
Tickets start from $14, and you’ll spend about 45–50 minutes inside. At that price point, it’s not outrageously expensive, but it really depends on what kind of joy you’re chasing.
If you love sensory overload, bright colours, and high-energy play spaces, you’ll probably have a good time. If you’re already burnt out and looking for something restorative, this might not be it.
For me, one visit was enough. Fun in parts, overwhelming in others, and a very clear reminder that dopamine doesn’t always come from more.
Diane: While Dopamine Land surely qualifies as a novel experience, I’m not sure how much it’ll do for me in the long-term compared to the thrills of task completion or solving my daily Wordle. As a parent, I’d also recommend Dopamine Land only for older kids, since the flashing lights and surprisingly deep ball pits might scare anyone who’s below hip height.
Our final rating:
We went into Dopamine Land Singapore thinking it would be another “nice for photos” immersive experience. Bright lights, pastel rooms, maybe one or two spaces that look great on Instagram and then done.
What we didn’t expect was to walk out nursing the beginning of a headache (we were SO overstimulated at certain points), and wondering if this was a symptom of dopamine overload, or if we’re just too old for strobe lights and foam pits.
🧠 Overall dopamine score: We’ll give Dopamine Land 2/5, akin to 3 hours’ worth of doomscrolling compressed into 50 minutes. But eh, kids will like it.
Dopamine Land is open Wednesdays to Mondays, 11am to 9pm (closed on Tuesdays), at Level 2, WEAVE, Resorts World Sentosa. Find out more about ticketing here
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This article was first published in Wonderwall.sg.
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