Pulau Ubin

I love three day weekends, but they somehow go by faster than two day weekends. Must be some sort of paradox in the time-space continuum. Friday night we went to a club over near Arab Street called Blue Jazz. It was neither blue, nor was there jazz playing there. Our friend Nick is moving to New Zealand, so this was his goodbye party. The bar had three levels, and the decor looked extremely nineties. I mean that in a relatively good way, I felt like we were drinking in the apartment from "Friends." We had a bit too much to drink, but it was nothing compared to the shots some of the boys were throwing down. Jägerbombs? Shudder. We had a great time, but lord did we pay for it the next day. Saturday turned into a recovery day, which was spent watching Alien movies and drinking copious amounts of water. Hangovers are even worse here, since you're usually somewhat dehydrated to begin with. I think I'm officially at the point in my life where going to a bar is just no longer that appealing. The drinks are overpriced, the music is loud and always terrible, and it's impossible to have an actual conversation with anyone. It's fun while it lasts, but it's not worth feeling like crap the next day.

Monday was National Day, and one of Mike's fellow matte painters asked us if we'd like to go to Pulau Ubin. We jumped at the chance, since we've heard great things about it. Pulau Ubin is an island just off the coast of Singapore, and it's the only real "kampang" or village left. You have to take a ferry to get there, since it's totally surrounded by water. They take you over in small groups, and the ride only takes about ten minutes. The boats are old and wooden, slightly rickety and damp. You can smell the smoke and gasoline fumes and see the jungle up ahead. We started quoting Apocalypse Now and that kept us busy for the whole ride over.

Once you reach the island, it really does feel like a separate country. There's no city here, no big buildings and new cars, no huge crowds of people. There's no electricity on Pulau Ubin, everything is run off of generators; there's no telephone poles sticking out or street lamps along the way. You have to leave before it gets dark, or you'll be lost in the jungle. Where you alight from the boats, there's quite a few little shops, most of them are bike rental places plus a few stores selling drinks and snacks. We walked along until we found some bikes that looked decent. We let our friend Eric and his fiancé handle the bargaining, since they're Filipino and we tend to get overcharged. We got our bikes, stocked up on drinks and re-applied sunscreen, and then we headed off.

There are hundreds of trails around the island, but it's quite small, only about 10 kilometers. We started out on a wooden and concrete path, it led around the coastal region of the island. The land gets really muddy, very swampy and steamy until you get to the water. There are huge sections of mangroves, which are trees that can grow in salt water. They look like crazy upside down trees, since their root systems are all exposed. It's like a giant came by and just started yanking the trees up.

We kept walking along the path, which eventually let out over the water for awhile. We could see Malaysia just across the way; you can take the ferry there too, but it takes a little longer. We saw these fiddler crabs in the mud, which I found hilarious. They're these little orange crabs and the males have one giant claw. Just ONE, mind you, so they look lopsided. They use them to fight, and I couldn't stop laughing at these tiny crabs knocking each other with their single over-sized claw. It was like watching nature's most pathetic arm wrestling match.

                                        

Seriously, don't they look hilarious? Poor little crabs; I feel bad laughing but it honestly looks they each have  a severe and localized case of elephantiasis. High five, dudes! 

Once we left the coast, we went inland and found a bunch of trails into the jungle. Some of the trails were dirt paths and pretty wide, but some were little more than slightly flattened grass. The worst was one that was really rocky and downhill, I swear I bruised parts of my butt I didn't know you could bruise. Everywhere we went seemed more lush and beautiful than the place we went before. At one point a helicopter flew overhead, and I swear I had a flashback to 'Nam. We found small houses and temples buried amidst the jungle, and we stopped to get drinks. I think most people who still live on this island survive by selling water and renting bikes to tourists. The homes have their own gardens, and chickens and rabbits in cages. The deeper you get into the jungle, the quieter it is. It's that strange loud quiet, where the noises of monkeys, birds, falling nuts and snapping trees somehow add up to silence. 

                                      

By the end of the day, we were covered in sweat, dirt and bites, and tired and sore from riding for hours. It was worth it, though. I can say without a doubt that this was the most beautiful place I've ever been in my life. Being surrounded by giant trees and vines, the way the light filters through the canopy--it was like being in a movie, it felt so unreal. Every picture you take looks like a screensaver on someone's desktop computer. When we reached higher ground, the views were spectacular: just shades of green as far as you can see, until your eye hits the water. Some parts were jungle, some parts looked more like forest, and then some parts were granite, left over from old quarries abandoned a long time ago. Part of me wanted to just stay on the island, set up a little bungalow and sleep in a hammock. I'm sure a lot of people feel that way, but luckily they don't act on it; the less people change this place the better. 

                                        

We finally found our way back to the village when the sun started to set. We were exhausted but exhilarated. Looking around at the small buildings, the stray dogs and faded signs, Mike and I both said we finally felt like we were in Southeast Asia. This is what we had been picturing when we envisioned our future home, a place unaffected by time and technology. We bought a couple coconuts from a vendor, they just chop open the top and stick in a straw and spoon. We were so thirsty and tired, I swear it was the best thing I've ever tasted. By the time we made it back to a ferry boat, the sun was almost gone. Looking back at the island from the boat, it was just all in darkness. Pulau Ubin is now my favorite place we've been to in Singapore, but I have to say it's not really Singapore. It's a place out of sync with the rest of the world, and that's what's so appealing.