At Amanwana jungle resort on Moyo island.

When it comes to Amanwana, it really is almost about the journey as much as the destination. Situated on Moyo island in Sumbawa Besar, the jungle resort is just an hour’s flight from Bali in a C-208 Amphibian Cessna Caravan float plane that flies impossibly close to stunning volcanoes and dives into marshmallow clouds of brilliant white, emerging again to reveal dazzling views of rugged green slopes and picture-perfect coastlines before it lands at a backward tilt with a gentle series of splashes on the most perfectly sapphire waters. A multitude of varieties of fish are already visible as the plane pulls up to the jetty and the door opens.

“Selamat pagi. Welcome to the jungle.”

Sunset with sea view.

The beautiful island of Moyo is located just kilometres off the northern coast of Sumbawa. Since 1976 it has been a protected zone for an abundance of animal and bird life, from deer and banteng bull to wild boar, macaque monkeys, sea eagles, and osprey. The island has a population of just 3,500, residing in eight villages around the coast and subsisting through fishing, farming, and trading. Amanwana, styled as a luxury camp, has been here since 1993. Of the is-land’s 36,000 hectares, Amanwana actively manages 12,000, officially set aside as a nature reserve.

Some of the abundant marine life found in the waters around Amanwana.

Moyo is truly a nature lover’s dream, offering a fascinating natural environment for exploration, with vegetation that ranges from dry savannah to dense jungle and hikes that take in a series of spring-fed waterfalls and cool freshwater pools. Its shores are lapped by the Flores Sea, in which a wealth of coral is found, from stag horn to gorgonian fans, while throughout the waters can be seen a profusion of colourful tropical fish and sometimes also dolphins, manta rays, and whales. Amanwana has its own dive centre and offers PADI certified dive courses, so divers at all levels can experience the magnificent worlds under these waters.

“I’d rather be in a tent than in a house,” Mary Leakey famously said, and in tents like these, few would argue. With either ocean or jungle views and linked by sand pathways under a canopy of tropical forest through which families of monkeys scramble, the resort accommodation consists of 20 luxury air-conditioned tents that are bright, spacious, and airy, each enclosed by a solid wall underneath a canvas ceiling, with teak-framed windows along the sides offering panoramic views of the surroundings. The tents are not walled off from the rest of the island, which is also a sanctuary for the indigenous Rusa deer, beneficiaries of Amanwana’s breeding programme, which has ensured a steady increase in numbers of their population.

In May 2008, Amanwana created the Moyo Conservation Fund, which enables guests to contribute to the conservation efforts and community work on the island. From restoring the coral reef to building a school in the nearby village of Labuan Aji, the resort works towards protecting, nurturing and enriching the environment for future generations of islanders and visitors. These efforts also include a turtle protection project, waste recycling scheme, and education and support for stewardship of the land. At another level of community involvement, one-third of the staff is from local villages, opening up opportunities to them abroad while strengthening ties between the resort and the villages back home.

A sense of this harmony with both the environment and the surrounding communities is deeply felt during a stay here. Add to this the usual impeccable Aman service and understated elegance, and you have the ingredients of an incomparable resort and a truly memorable experience.

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Jez O’Hare and his trike, at home in Bandung.

You’ve probably seen his photographs in magazines, perhaps in a coffee-table book on the Wallace Line or the Indonesian archipelago, maybe even in an advertisement for a high-definition television. They are those rare images that capture the essence of a place, showing us an aspect that is unique and rare; images that require not only passion, drive, planning, and courage, but also a piece of equipment that creates its own centrifugal force, called a gyro stabilizer, and a micro light aircraft. Jez O’Hare’s images from above inspire travel, exploration and poetry, offering us an escape into a world that we can’t quite make tangible and triggering a mind, heart and soul reaction of awe at the beauty of Indonesia.

Flying towards Bromo, East Java.

Driving through Bandung to meet Jez, it’s not hard to see why so many artists, architects and intellectuals have made this city their hub in Java. Dotted with ancient evergreens around winding roads wrapping up and down hills, I went past Indonesia’s most esteemed Universities and made my way through a residential neighborhood that ended on the edge of a valley. I could see a slice of the view behind what has been Jez’s home for the last 8 years.

Several dogs welcomed me with barks of varying tone and volume. Slowly a lean, Celtic-looking gentleman made his way through the canine mass and approached the large green wrought iron gate. “Hi Avi, have you had lunch?” he inquired softly as a boyish spark twinkled in his eyes. His accent was unusual; British grammar school mingled with soft hints of Indonesian. “I haven’t been speaking too much English these days, at least not with people who have English as their first language.”

Above the Kei Islands.

Still in his early forties, Jez has been capturing images of Indonesia for almost 25 years now. His family moved to Indonesia in early 1974, when his father took an expatriate position as a director of a major British safe manufacturer. His specialisation in photographing Indonesia was like a karmic calling when he was on holiday from university in the UK, where he was studying scientific illustration.

“I always thought photography was too difficult,” he said with a smile. “I was still a student and had some time off, that’s when I heard there were still some stone-age people living in Papua – Irian Jaya back then – and I couldn’t believe it.” Grabbing a couple of cameras and lenses, Jez set off on the Pelni at age 19. “I ended up staying for two months!” he grinned. “Then when I got back, my Dad’s secretary invited me to submit my images to a travel magazine, Suasana, now out of print. And I got the cover!” His excitement is still palpable.
At the heart of Jez’s photography is a deep passion for exploration. “It’s about getting that photograph that no one else has taken before.” And this, perhaps, leads me to the best way of describing Jez; an explorer with a desire to go where no one’s gone before.

Ngga Glacier, Papua.

Things started to move pretty quickly after that first publication. He worked with a film production company – “they threw me in the deep-end, and I was learning a lot,” – and continued developing his photography and exploring Indonesia. This took him on various aerial photography projects: “I figured, the only way to see Indonesia is to go by air.” Then, in 1995, he had a crash in a microlight “and I thought, shit, better I learn to fly myself.”.
Shortly after getting out of the hospital the first thing Jez did was to get flying lessons. Starting with a paramotor, flying with a parachute and a fan strapped to his back, he had to overcome the fear from his recent accident, learn to fly and “learn how to take photographs from the air while strapped to a parachute and motor.” The first two flights were “not so good,” but on the third, “it was at sunset and I was thinking to myself, ‘I’m flying!’” Eventually he moved on to a microlight aircraft, or trike, which he modified to make the seat lower so that he would have the freedom to use his camera.

Jez on his trike.

Jez is meticulous in his planning and self-discipline. “There’s basically three things, three conditions that you need to be sure of,” he explained as I learned what it took to get flying. “First, the condition of your craft; second your own condition and the third; the media – your runway, the weather. Don’t fly unless you’re sure about these three conditions.”

“I’ve got desalination tablets and a lifeboat on my trike, so it’s okay to fly over large expanses of water,” he added in a matter-of-fact tone.

In 2005, Jez took Indonesian citizenship. “I could spend the rest of my life photographing this place,” he told me. “And also, I just got tired of going to Immigration every year.”

And his next adventure? “My dream is to fly throughout Indonesia on my trike, starting from Java.” I’m already beginning to dream of where he’ll take us next.

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Nikoi Beach House.

Think of Indonesia’s perfect beaches and idyllic island life, and Bali and Lombok immediately spring to mind. Their beaches and other island offerings may still rank among the world’s most stunning and exotic, but seclusion is an increasingly rare commodity. Perhaps you’ve tired of the ‘tropical paradise’ picture perfect postcard retreats you love, which are still undeniably beautiful, but now spoilt by unkempt beaches and more likely to feature other red-faced foreigners more interested in their Bintang Beer than endless stretches of white sand and palm trees. Or perhaps as a seasoned Southeast Asia old hand you’ve seen it all, and island-hopped enough so much so that it’s the rare few special island or resort that can stir up any excitement at all.

One of the best things about Indonesia that’s easy to forget, especially after getting caught up in the big city lights of Jakarta, is that the country is in fact also the world’s largest archipelago, among its other claims to fame, which puts more than 18 000 islands at your disposal — 6000 if you count only the inhabited ones. And the fact that few international travellers bother to venture elsewhere beyond the usual suspects only means more space for the rest of us.

Nikoi Beach Sunshade.

Closer to Singapore than to Jakarta, Nikoi island off the east coast of Bintan, is Riau’s best-kept secret. The private island is owned by a small group of expatriate owners who’d spent decades working in the region. The vacation spots in the vicinity fell short of their expectations. Bintan and Batam’s resort selections offered mostly mass tourist hysteria, and the very idea of a ‘resort’ was synonymous with uniform mediocrity and packaged tourists. They accidentally discovered the island of Nikoi on a boat trip from Bintan, and the rest is history: building up the the island’s slowly and sensibly, there are a mere six houses on the island at the moment, and plans in the pipeline for just nine more. If you’re here for privacy, seclusion, and a spot of romance, this is precisely it.

Zipping over from Singapore by ferry, we whizzed through the VIP lounge on arrival, the seaport equivalent of ‘fast track’ immigration clearance. An hour later we were in Kawal, site of a small Nikoi-bound jetty. My measure of how special an island is is pretty rudimentary. How much does it makes my jaw drop, in the first minute or so when the island comes into your line of sight, and does it make me think “I’m so lucky to be here”? Islands like Koh Lipe do that to me, while Phuket and Koh Phi Phi never do. And now, onboard Nikoi’s homebound classic wooden launch boat “Mana”, as we approached Nikoi I felt what owners Andrew and Julia Dixon must have felt when they first spotted the island in 2001: this might be paradise.



Fishing Floats.

There was no one on the beach when we landed except the affable Yogi (“Call me Yogi Bartender!”) and his crew — amazing. Yogi mixed us a much-needed welcome drink, and the mellow sounds of good jazz never stopped. Some islands just exude a wonderful vibe without having to try too hard, and Nikoi was one such place. It felt more like stumbling into someone’s Robinson Crusoe island, not the least bit like the impersonal resorts we’ve all grown used to. And it kept getting better.



Each one of the houses was a sturdy two-storey beach house. Downstairs, a wonderful chill out space with day beds and a bar; upstairs, a comfortable, spacious bedroom with the balcony opening out to the ocean. The houses, like most other architectural elements on Nikoi, are the pride and joy of designer Peter Timmer, who was part of the original founding party. Having lived in Bintan for decades and passionate about the natural surroundings of the region, he handcrafted the houses from driftwood, and emerged with distinctive double vaulted roofs for each. The way the houses are built, says Timmer, makes the very idea of air-conditioning unnecessary — the houses are kept cool naturally, for hot air escapes through the chimney-like roofs.



I haven’t been in a hotel like this in a long time, in fact I wasn’t even sure I could call Nikoi a ‘hotel’ or a ‘resort’. It was everything it promised to be: secluded, private, charming, quiet… and different. This was barefoot luxury at its best. The houses in their smallest configurations, the one-bedroom houses (they also come in two and three-bedroom) had at least 100 square metres upstairs, a far cry from tiny standard hotel rooms. Instead of opulent five-star luxury, accommodation is all about adventure and charm — “Luxury Survivor”, according to its owners — and every inch of the rooms, with natural touches of stone and wood everywhere, stood out. Within five minutes of being there, I felt like I never wanted to leave.



The food was fresh and seasonal, with the items on offer depending on what’s available that day transformed into fine dishes under the watchful eye of Nikoi’s expert chefs. The wine list was short but commendable, and Yogi Bartender’s cocktails delightful. Local flavours and dishes, barbequed seafood and unbelievably sweet tropical fruits, were served three times a day at the dining room or sea-view clubhouse, with the occasional live jazz act on hand to provide entertainment. At other times, meals can be served in the privacy of your own beach house or right on the beach. Whatever you end up doing in Nikoi one thing’s for sure: there won’t be many people around to cramp your style. The island can hold up to 60 people, but in reality very rarely ever even reaches half of that.



Yoga on the Rocks.

If long lazy dinners, pina colada in hand, gets too much for you, the fine people at Nikoi will be glad to help. Pick up snorkelling or fishing equipment, and head for the sea — the waters off Nikoi are as lovely and pristine as the island itself is. All equipment for activities are provided free of charge, and on a slow day if you feel like sailing — but can’t — one of the staff will be happy to take you out to sea on one of the lasers they own. Land-roving adventurers may prefer unwinding at the beach or the lovely swimming pool, or if that gets stale, beach vollyball or a nature walk around the island to witness the beautifully conserved flora and fauna are always viable options (if you have children, ask about special activities for kids — there are too many to name).



All of which was activity enough for us for three days. We woke up every morning in Nikoi to a view of the open ocean and trundled about barefoot everywhere: beach, house, beach, house, pool, house, bar, clubhouse, and when we decided to attempt to be ‘active’, ended up stuck at sea in a laser neither of us could operate (but that’s another story for another day). The food was good, and the beach, perfect. In a short period of time Nikoi’s become the best-kept secret you only want to tell your favourite people about, and is already becoming increasingly harder to book, but it’s easy to see why. This could be the new paradise.



Getting There
Via Singapore: Numerous ferries depart from Singapore’s Tanah Merah Ferry Terminal for Bintan, daily. Upon arrival at Bintan’s ferry teminal, Nikoi’s transportation package arranges for VIP clearance at immigration, the car to Kawal, and the boat ride to Nikoi (return).


Via Jakarta: Riau Airlines and Sriwijaya Airlines fly from Jakarta to Tanjung Pinang, Bintan’s main town. Upon arrival, transportation can be arranged towards Kawal, and to Nikoi.



Nikoi: www.nikoi.com Everything you need to know about the island, accommodation, activities, and bookings.
 

Adrianna Tan is a Singaporean photojournalist and new media producer based in Dubai and Kuala Lumpur. Her “Postcards from London and Dubai” travelogue can be found online at http://fortylove.tv.

This article was published in the print edition of Kabar in March 2009.

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