Stops: Tanah Merah Ferry Terminal Singapore, Tanjung Pinang Ferry Terminal, Teluk Bakau Pulau Bintan, Telaga Punggur Pulau Batam (Days 3-6)

Bintan Island is Singapore’s backyard. It’s an escape valve. Just a short boat ride away are white sand beaches, cheap holidays, and a sort of walled garden gated community of resorts–Club Med, Banyan Tree, and Nirwana. People will even just go for a day trip. Etsuko and I stopped off here once for a quick getaway after her business was done in Singapore. I think it was just two nights. Mainly, I remember getting stung by a jellyfish that entwined its tentacles with my toes.

Beyond the practically door to door Singapore to beach cabana resorts, there is the rest of the island. This time I struck out a little farther afield and it worked out great. I picked a tiny hotel on the east side for some nice sunrises. I was the only guest in the literally named Ten Rooms Hotel. It had almost everything I needed. Comfortable bed, lamp, aircon, bathroom. No TV. No music from the beach bar. No beach bar.

No development nearby. No streetlights. Darkness. When the sky was clear I could see more stars than from the mountains in Okutama–just in slightly different positions in the sky. I woke up on Japan/Singapore time well before sun up.

Breakfast under the bale out front was followed by not much. Watch the clouds roll in. Do some reading. Decompress. Go for a walk down the road one way in the morning and the other way in the evening to the local shop for cold drinks. That was about it.

The only drawback was the very low tide and incredibly shallow beach. No swimming. You can just make out a small figure of a local fisherman dragging a sled out in the flats digging for something. I think sea cucumbers. There were some drying on the roof of a dilapidated boat on shore. Most visitors come here for kite surfing. Someone will run you out to the small island for the day. More of a group activity and there is no group. I was happy to engage in reduced activity.

Primo is a kite surfing instructor whose true love is his songbirds. He has about 30 that he enters in competitions once or twice a month. Like me, he would be up very early. He took his baby out in his cage for a bit of sun before it got too hot. He’d get me a pot of coffee before the kitchen opened and we chatted. Prino goes all over to set up kite surfing at other hotels in Bali and Sumba. He regaled me with tales of “those Russian boys” and “the Czech boys” running money laundering schemes and buying up property. They get fancy cars shipped in. Something to do with bitcoin or some nonsense. “Like children,” he says. According to Boyski, the manager, Primo could have an amazing business consulting, but he can’t leave for more than five days at a time because he loves his birds so much. He also adopted the neighbor cats and feeds them because people had to leave them behind when business dried up during COVID. True animal lover.

Mawi runs the place day-to-day and is the most laid back person I have ever met. But, also super helpful. He got me all sorted out with currency transactions on Wise on my phone and filled me in on the ferry services and exactly how to get to the next island. Far better than Google.

Boyski, the manager, picked me up on arrival at the ferry during a tremendous deluge. We had a long drive to the hotel and he filled me in on the developments on the island and around Indonesia. Seemed like a quiet Jokowi supporter, but also optimistic that Prabowo is basically hemmed in by ongoing events and will have to continue. Let’s hope so. Originally from Padang in Sumatra, he gave me some hints for down the road. Super nice guy. I should have taken a pic with these guys.

All of them speak English way way better than my fumbling Indonesian, so they’d humor me for a bit but then it was silly beyond a “selamat pagi.” I found my conversation partners out on the street.

Rice crackers drying in the sun at Ten Rooms.

It’s Ramadan, so even if everyone isn’t fasting, activity is low during the day. As evening approaches and it starts to cool down, everyone comes out. Families meeting up and bringing food to gatherings. Motorbikes everywhere. I’d walk to the ATM and the one shop. That’s when they found me. Like anyplace, what do teenage boys do when turned loose? Tear it up! They’d race their motorcycles up and down the road honking and waving. Fearless. Also, not afraid to pull over and accost the weirdo foreigner walking down the road. Good for me, they didn’t really speak English. The usual: where are you from, why are you here, what are you doing, where are you going, have you eaten yet, and want a lift? Super friendly and nice kids. I managed to explain in Indonesian why though I very much appreciated it, no thank you. Istriku khawatir. Dia bertemu kecelakaan motor. Dia benci motor. (My wife worries. She was in a motorcycle accident. She hates bikes.) Then, the leader took off hollering and popping a wheelie as if to prove me right.

Kitty in the early morning just chilling in the case for dishes at a food stall up the road.

May not look like much, but on my second, and sadly last, last full day, I stopped by the seafood place up the road. No sign. Cumi cumi dengan sambal hijau. Fresh squid with green sambal which had a lot of chilis, green tomatoes, and coriander. So good. The only problem, and this is a constant issue travelling solo in southeast Asia, is that dishes are meant to be shared. I wanted to order half the menu, which is what you should do and share with a whole table. Alas, I could only get this, but was so full, no need for dinner. I tried to postpone my departure a day just so I could go back, but next hotel reservation could not be changed. So, on I go. Boyski drove me to the speedboat to Pulau Batam on Saturday. One of these. About a twenty seater. 60,000 IDR one way. Half an hour to the next stop.