An hour by boat across the straight plus an hour by land through the gentle slopes of Bintan, hides a refuge that is Trikora.


At first, I thought it would be like the other resorts in the island of Riau Indonesia with generic stretches of average-looking sandy beach, dotted with sporadic boulders like God played with these rocks and later forgot to clean it up. But this turned-out to be a different place.


From a row of shacks in 2009, the beach resort still keeps a modest characteristic despite the big move of redesigning the entire resort couple of years ago.


Notwithstanding the Ikea loots strewn here and there, the cottages’ high ceilings, white washed fixtures and reclaimed wood materials give the same old organic feel and uncontrived ambiance.


Reminiscent of those countryside houses where a unibrowed Frida Kahlo would start whipping paint brushes and spend the whole afternoon getting drowsy sniffing turpentine, I locked myself in, sat and took a deep inhale…


With a stretched canvas and freshly opened oil, I found myself painting again.



After 15 years, I took a courageous move to paint again.




 In between hours, I occasionally socialize. I go feasting on local catch and lull post meals while rubbing the sand between my toes. What else can I do in this beach resort? Well, nothing much. Which is exactly the point of crossing the straight and gentle slopes of Bintan: To escape the city’s organized chaos and surrender to a slow weekend of conscious inebriation, of doing nothing as much as possible.


Outside the cozy rooms and snuggly nooks, there are hammocks hanging between the trees that barricade the white sand. The same hammocks that keep the salt breeze at bay and mark the line for the radically moving tide.


A refuge when the need to breathe and take a quiet break from the intense orchestra of pigments and intoxicating scents of oils.


Admittedly, a certain amount of courage is needed to keep still; the same amount of strength is required to resurrect an old ghost. There really are times when you need to slow down, to listen to that creative voice and just let things come to you.


I thought it would be just another weekend, but this turned-out to be a different place: This is where I kept still and took a courageous move to paint again.

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1 Comment
  • Chris

    February 10, 2016 at 8:47 am

    That painting looks good! Managed to finish it?

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