Rangitoto

Rangitoto taken from Takapuna beach, Auckland. Rangitoto is a volcanic island in Auckland harbour.
We are presently staying on Stewart Island, NZ and I will post some more photos soon.

Water taxis, Tanjung Pinang harbour

Trikora beach Bintan on a busy day

Sunday 6th Feb

Sunday 6^th Feb

Arrived at Singapore on Friday after a smooth flight with Qantas on an A380 double decker. Qantas have kept it pretty quiet that they’ve put these planes back in service after an engine blowing up over the Singapore Straits. Still, they’re very smooth and quiet, though there’s no more room in economy than in a 747

Once we’d switched the mobiles back on, a mini-drama revealed itself. Just before we left we got the plumber around having decided to drain down the water and central heating systems. Unfortunately he had shut the water off to the flat above as well, not realising that the stop cock in our cellar was for the main riser. To be honest both Mieke and myself thought that that stop cock was only for our flat, so had we turned off ourselves, we probably would have done the same. It was well worth paying the call-out fee so that we could have the plumber to blame. But then, aren’t plumbers supposed to know what they are doing?

There was therefore a series of panicky texts and calls to get it sorted out. It must have been awful for the neighbours though not to have water for 24 hours (and I know one of you might be reading this, so many apologies again, and we’ll try to make it up to you if we can).

Thanks as well to Kate who sorted it out and (as we don’t know the full story) possibly to Michele, John and Mary.

Time goes on… and it’s now Monday; I’m typing this on the balcony of our beach hut, the sea breaking in just up to the stilt poles. Shady shack. It’s very beautiful here, relaxed and laid back. Just had a swim to test out the new goggles, which worked well.

But to go back in time a moment. After arriving at Changi airport and putting some of our luggage into left luggage, we took the public bus in the direction of our hotel. Not too far from the airport as the ferry terminal – Tanah Merah for Bintan the next day - is fairly close as well.

Finding directions in a city is never quite that easy though. However there were several people willing to help us, both with low tech. solutions, ie. thinking about which stop, and high tech with an iphone and google maps.

I’m a fan of Singapore (Mieke less so). I like the clean, organised state of the city. Perhaps it’s a function of getting old me liking the benign authoritarian politics of the country and the laws against chewing gum and littering. It could also be something to do with being fed up with the lax uk attitudes where people use the gutter to empty car ashtrays, throw KFC boxes of half eaten chicken on the pavement and spit out gum or stick it under public benches.

There is another side of me as well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know, so read on.

Tanjung Pinang

Two hours away by fast ferry from Singapore is the Indonesian Island of Bintan. Arriving at the largest town, which may now be the capital of the Riau Islands, one travels from the ultra modern to a grotty faded glory of a place that the Singaporeans refer to as a sleepy town, although it’s hectic in its own way of apparent chaos.

Here seems to be a place of anti-rules. Small motor cycles are everywhere, some people wearing helmets, many not. Sometimes a family is four up, with a babe in arms being carried on the pillion.

There’s a wonderful market of narrow streets going out on platforms into the harbour. Underneath this is the stench of rubbish. Plastic and bottles pile up, then float around when the tide comes in.

Our hotel is located right on the waterfront, overlooking the harbour. There’s a large promenade area in front of the hotel where people sit out to eat and drink. Sitting there, I was fascinated by the water taxis: old, open wooden boats that ply across the harbour. They have inboard diesel engines, sounding an ancient clack clack. The watermen cut these out as they approach the landing and use oars in the traditional way. Presumably because it’s easier to manoeuver with the oars. I was fantasising that it might also be a concession to noise abatement and ecology. There was one elderly boatman just using oars all the way – hard work.

I associated these water taxis with how it must have been (I imagine) in 16^th century Southwark, boats crossing the Thames, bringing theatre goers to the Globe.

What is it about culture shock, the shock of the different? It’s about being outside of one’s comfort zone – the known. There’s a feeling of potential unsafeness. How do things work. Is the dirtiness too close; hasn’t it been banished far enough, as far as in the west? Ultimately, even with a mass of tourist advice about what and what not to do, various injections, and not drinking the water or ice, will I survive?

Having survived for a while – a few hours – it’s then possible to relax, to start observing and exploring.

There is something liberating about the ‘unsafeness’ and the apparent chaos. Apparent because a different form of organisation needs to be observed. For example, the water taxi men have a blackboard hanging from a pole near the pick-up steps. I watched one of them chalk something on it before mooring up for the night and settling down to sleep on the bottom of the boat.

So, perhaps I want it both ways: the orderliness of Singapore and the relaxation of Indonesia