Quiet Escape
That was such a special week.
It was my first visit to Bintan last year, and as I stepped off the plane in Singapore on my return, I was hit with a wave of longing for the Bintan air, the lazy burning down of the sun and the stillness of the place.
I began my travels here, in Singapore. There were a few things that really struck me out here — high humidity, very clean streets, and also very good food at the many "Hawker Centres" which are food courts, but serve much more than just food. I'm a very busy person and rarely take the time to look and observe my surroundings, and here I felt that I was waking up to my surroundings in a way.
Then we boarded a ferry to Bintan, an Indonesian island just off Singapore's southern coast.
Then we boarded a ferry to Bintan, an Indonesian island just off Singapore's southern coast. After a few minutes we were leaving the Singaporean coastline behind, and the cityscape was slowly being replaced by the ocean and the waves which continued for about an hour before we reached Bintan. As we approached the island, it came in off our right flat, emerald green and completely silent. The days flowed into one another in a continuous sequence of doings and times of rest.
One morning we visited a rice farm. I was pushed into the mud by being squatted down and having my toes pressed down into it. The farmer demonstrated with great care the inserting of seedlings into the flooded ground, being very careful of the upright stalks of the seedlings so that they did not sink below the surface of the water.
The next day we boarded small motorboats to go into the mangroves. The trees looked like modernist abstract sculpture lying on the ocean floor, their root systems an endless tangle rising up to just underneath the sheet of glass. The air was filled with the sweet scent of salt and earth.
By midweek, the activities became much more physical. We went kayaking in the blistering heat until our arms ached, and later went snorkeling in the lagoon, where schools of tiny silver fish darted around our faces in the crystal water.
We built sand turtles in the morning, and in the afternoon we went for a beach clean up. Upon arrival, we realised that it had already been cleaned, except for the sound of the waves, the wind in the palm trees and the horizon without any limit other than the ocean.
Our last exercise of the day was to lie on the beach for some stargazing. The absence of the veil of city lights gave us a quite different perspective on the sky. It was almost tactile with the dense interweaving of textures and depth perspectives.
Stories crowded out Wi-Fi and smoke filled our clothes. Sparks flew up and gradually disappeared in the sky. By the time we ferried back to Singapore to catch our flight home, Bintan felt a world away. To me, it's more like a brief interruption to what had otherwise been a completely unremarkable year.