ISLAND HOPPING
From an exclusive private island to Aman’s serene resort overlooking the Bali Sea, Zara Wong takes a luxurious odyssey through Indonesia.
From an exclusive private island to Aman’s serene resort overlooking the Bali Sea, take a luxurious odyssey through Indonesia.
BAWAH RESERVE, RIAU ISLANDS
THERE ARE FEW phrases in the holiday vocabulary that can be uttered with the same hushed thrill as ‘private island’. Private islands are for Richard Branson, members of the Onassis family and Julia Roberts (if rumours are true). For the most part, they are not for us laypeople. Except now, where you can secure a stay at Bawah Reserve.
Three hundred kilometres north-east of Singapore, Bawah Reserve lies in an Indonesian archipelago that encompasses 250 islands with only 50,000 inhabitants. Such numerical factoids are impressive, if difficult to fathom, at least until we actually embark on the journey to Bawah.
My husband and I fly into Singapore and stay the night in the city; the next morning we head to the port to catch a ferry to Indonesia’s Bintan Island. From here we board a seaplane, chaperoned by Bawah staff to ensure a smooth transit. For the whole 80-minute seaplane flight we look out to a great expanse of ocean. The descent to Bawah and the surrounding islands that make up the resort is when the magic begins. The pilot takes a lap around the island with a flourish, the white sand beaches fanning out to blues of lapis lazuli and to topaz, demarcating reefs and the depths of the ocean.
Previously untouched, Bawah Island was once only frequented by scuba divers in the know. Bawah Reserve’s owner, shipping entrepreneur Tim Hartnoll, was one such diver. He became so enamoured of the reefs, forests and pristine beaches that Bawah Reserve became his passion project. It took five years to build the resort by hand: no heavy machinery was used as it would mean a loss of trees. Building materials were mostly sustainably sourced, including bamboo, driftwood and recycled teak. Rainwater and seawater are treated and filtrated to keep the resort as sustainable as possible.
Befitting the environmentally aware stance of the resort, the design has an understated sense of luxuriousness. Twisted-rope balustrades and sandy pathways abutting the jungle lead from the pool to thatched-roof private villas with leather-trimmed rattan furniture. The villas are either nestled amid the jungle, on the beach or on the water. The bathrooms are particularly memorable, with stand-alone bathtubs made of recycled copper that retain the heat, and water warmed with solar energy.
There are elements of Bawah that have made it a hit on Instagram, like the photogenic transparent canoe, but what cannot be captured so truthfully on social media is what makes the resort so appealing: the remoteness and close proximity to nature. Childhood fantasies of stranded island adventures come to life at Bawah: there is a rawness to being on the resort if only for a few days that lets self-confessed city slickers feel as though they are intrepid explorers on an adventure.
We snorkel and kayak, partaking in outdoor activities that are included in the cost of the room, making it one of the first all-inclusive resorts in Asia. Rina, the activities manager, warns us that many couples run the risk of overbooking themselves, which admittedly I’m tempted to do, as I’m learning how to properly relax and do nothing on a holiday. Bawah has a solution to this conundrum, of course, by offering daily massages as part of each guest’s stay.
Snorkelling is the best way to experience what captured the imagination of Bawah’s founder. There are corals studded with clams pulsating as they open and close, their lips edged in iridescent colours. Parrotfish pause to look up, turtles swim by, clownfish bounce up and down in their anemone home (I naively think they are greeting us: I’m later told they’re protecting themselves, not waving hello).
For a more relaxed pace, we are whisked away to one of the 13 beaches for a private picnic. As someone who doesn’t usually take a resort holiday and revels in scheduling vacation activities, I was struck by how relaxing it was and how quickly time went by sitting on an empty beach, doing absolutely nothing but marvel at the world around us. (I get it now! And yes, my husband was relieved that he finally got a break.)
On our last night we partook in star-gazing on the beach with the resort’s telescope. In the crystal-clear night sky we spot the hazy grey shimmer of the Milky Way and Orion’s Belt pointing to Sirius. And as if the ocean mirrored the sky, the plankton in the sea glistened like the stars. With the stars above and sea around us reverberating in unison, we sat in awe of the great expanse and the sheer isolation of where we were, on a small island in the great wide universe.
Go to www.bawahreserve.com.
There is a rawness to being here that lets a city slicker feel as though they are an intrepid explorer
AMANKILA, BALI
A BIT OF the fizz of exotic travel evaporated with the arrival of the online review. From your phone you can see someone else’s holiday snaps, their thoughts on breakfast, and recommendations on which rooms to request. As someone who likes to plan out a holiday in advance, I trawl review sites for advice; sometimes for laughs and other times for details that are not obvious to the casual visitor to an official website.
Ahead of my trip to Amankila, one of lauded luxury hotel group Aman’s three offerings on Bali, I quickly perused guest feedback. I found one appraisal of Amankila in which the traveller raves about the design, service, food and more, but makes a point to complain about the property’s lack of direct sunset view, because of its bayside location. Tough crowd. But discerning.
Built in 1992, Amankila was one of Aman’s first properties. The original design by Edward Tuttle has barely changed since Amankila’s inception, proof of the timelessness of the original concept. Infinity pools have recently been added to three suites, however, and there’s been a refresh of the suite interiors. As I unpacked my suitcase in my private villa, the only sounds to be heard were local birds and the rustle of rainforest trees; the air was scented with frangipanis and coconut.
This is the first Aman I have stayed at, although I have dined at its properties in Venice and Yunnan in rural China, so my expectations were high; the level of service does not disappoint. A glass of ice water is served whenever I so much as hover near a chair in a common area; when I head back to my villa after a quick swim, fresh towels have appeared, ready for my shower.
There is a quiet, majestic drama in the sandstone steps leading down to the trio of tiered infinity pools, which were inspired by the terraced rice paddies of Bali. The hotel itself looks to the palaces of East Bali, Ujung and Tirta Gangga. Guests can lounge unseen in the bale – Balinese cabanas – dotted at the edges of the pools, so when you’re swimming in the main pool you can feel like you are all on your own as you look out to the bay.
Further down the hill lies Amankila’s Beach Club, with a second pool bordered by slender palms. The beach itself glistens with volcanic black sand. Amankila staff stand there on watch, ready to clean up any litter that might wash up from the shore, a reminder that not even paradise is immune to the realities of the outside world.
The Bali that most people know is the touristy southern region. Amankila is in east Bali, which is a 90-minute drive from the airport and is much less built up; there is only one other major hotel in the area.
Amankila can organise private tours of the local area, including Tenganan, said to be Bali’s oldest village, which specialises in double ikat textiles. Our driver and tour guide has worked for Amankila since its inception (I’m told more than 90 per cent of Amankila’s staff have been working there since the resort opened).
Another testament to authenticity is an embrace of local cuisine. Alongside familiar Indonesian dishes such as nasi lemak and nasi goreng,
which are available alongside a Western menu, there’s a range of other interesting options that proved especially memorable. The hotel restaurant offers megibung, a traditional meal where people sit together and share from a platter during ceremonies and other special occasions to symbolise togetherness. Bali’s cuisine focuses on eating properly, together. And unlike its regional counterparts, Balinese food has gentle, delicate flavours that need to be handled carefully. Credit must go to Australian-born executive chef Shane Lewis, who uses traditional Balinese cooking methods and flavours in modern ways, creating dishes such as a delicious palem udang, a steamed minced-prawn dish with spiced coconut paste and sambals. Produce is sourced locally: lobster is from Sumbawa, the mud crab from Sumatra and barramundi from Papua, while the mackerel and snapper are from the nearby waters.
Amankila has its own berry farm on Mount Agung, Bali’s highest peak, ensuring the sweetest and freshest of strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and blueberries, grown in volcanic soil. Herbs are cultivated in the hotel’s herb garden, which is visible from the common walkways. The sense of serenity you feel while staying here does make it hard to gather the momentum needed to venture out, even for organised day trips to the surrounding district. I now understand the appeal of resort holidays where you don’t do that much, save for a few laps of the pool, sipping a piña colada on a deck chair and snacking on Indonesian sweets in the afternoon while thumbing through a paperback.
Each morning we wake to watch the sunrise, and in the evening wait until dusk to watch the sun set before heading in for dinner. And to respond to that online critique I read before arrival, I feel the sunrises and sunsets are even more beautiful than if the sun had been directly in view, actually. The clouds and hills in the distance create even more of a spectacle of these moments, the shafts of light glimmering over the terraced infinity pools. It is sublime to visit somewhere familiar to so many Australians and experience it in a new way – even if it is something so seemingly simple as watching how the light changes over the magnificent Amankila.