The Lure of Islands (4): The spice islands

Curiosity is immediately satisfied and you can spend the rest of the hours of daylight exploring. The drive into Ambon, the main town in the Maluku, from the airport by the bay, in the soft glow of daybreak, was a singular experience. The scenery was breathtaking, with every bend revealing a new beach fringed by […]

Curiosity is immediately satisfied and you can spend the rest of the hours of daylight exploring. The drive into Ambon, the main town in the Maluku, from the airport by the bay, in the soft glow of daybreak, was a singular experience. The scenery was breathtaking, with every bend revealing a new beach fringed by swaying palm trees. The road rises into the mountains, from which you have a clear view of the sea below, then it sweeps down, in sometimes sharp curves, to run parallel to the seashore.
At first there were few isolated homesteads and villages in this almost picture perfect setting. Then as we neared the centre of town, the morning traffic began to build up and you realised this was not paradise, but a small bustling town waking up to everyday life. A seemingly young population was on the move, mainly on scooters and other two-wheel vehicles, to school and work and other centers of activity. We passed small markets selling fish and fruits. I saw at least one shopping centre. There were prominently positioned churches and mosques, indicating that the islanders take their religion seriously. (such was the intense rivalry, there were clashes between Muslims and Christians in 1999). My hotel was right in the centre of it all and after dropping my bags I returned to the street to observe things at ground level.
The Maluku islands straddle the equator, so even at nine in the morning it was very hot and humid. But travel is not for the faint-hearted or the weak-kneed, I trudged on until I found the town centre, which was small but busy. Small shops selling cheap Chinese goods are now a universal phenomena, so they did not interest me. There were curio shops selling local arts and craft which were interesting. Pearls from the Molukus (found by divers in the sea) are sought after in the region and you could get them cheap here if you could bargain. Mercifully I soon chanced upon a leafy park where some young kids were blissfully at play. I found a shaded bench nearby lazily  and watched the slow island life pass by.
The next day, I hired a chauffeur driven car from the hotel to explore Ambon. We visited an old fort built by the Dutch, from which sanctuary they governed the natives. We stopped to see the oldest mosque in the Maluku, built by Arab traders who brought Islam there. We passed some villages that looked like they were destroyed by an earthquake. The driver told me that whole communities in the areas were washed away by the big Tsunami that hit South-east Asia in 2004.
For the most of the drive we passed small contented sea-side villages, where families were idling under the shades of palm fronds or hoping to catch the attention of passing traffic to purchase farm produce. There is one particular fruit you cannot miss on a visit to these islands. It is called Dorian, large as a pumpkin, with it’s fleshy white pulp  arranged in pods. It is a particular favourite in Malaysia and Indonesia, but such is it’s pungent smell, it is rare to find it displayed in the street and supermarkets of cities and towns.
But here in the villages it’s smell and sight was everywhere. It takes getting used to, but it was not difficult to see why the islanders loved it. It is a very large and juicy source of nourishment, more food than fruit and one of nature’s blessings in hard volcanic soils.  Since this was not my idea of lunch, the driver dropped me at an out of town resort I had read about, where excellent fish was served in a tranquil setting. I seriously considered making this hotel my base at Ambon, but since travel was about people not gardens and rocks, I opted for the downtown area where I was closer to the heart beat of the city.
I had hoped from Ambon to visit the small island of Banda Neira, where the Dutch built colonial mansions and meant to settle for ever. But once the centre of the Spice trade shifted, they reluctantly went home and left the islanders to their devices. But from what I read it was not a bad fate. Banda Neira is small and lush green with almost no vehicular traffic. Some of its old mansions have been converted to small hotels with endless vistas of the sea. It is what tropical islands used to be before mass tourism.
The problem was you can only go there by ships, which have no fixed schedule. I checked at the Maritime office at Ambon and the best on offer was a cargo ship going the following week with no definite return date! So I played safe by visiting two other islands in the North Maluku, which are more frequented by stray tourists.
Ternate and Tidore are twin islands separated by narrow islet. There is air connection on small planes from Ambon to Ternate, which is the capital of North Maluku and also the base of the only surviving Sultanate in the Malukus. Once the centre of cloves cultivation, Ternate was  built entirely on the Gamalama Volcano which rises out of the sea. So when you are on the island, you are literally between the mountain and the deep blue sea!
The small hotel I stayed recommended a local tour guide, with whom we became so friendly he promised to invite me to his wedding (which mercifully, because of the distance, he never did). We hired two motorcycles to take us first to the Sultan’s place, but his royal highness was not in town, being a parliamentarian in Jakarta. The palace was in the middle of town and one of the few tourist attractions. There were many beautiful mosques around, Ternate being mostly Muslim. Out of town we went to two scenic lakes that were created by volcanic craters. But for me the highlight was a visit to the local market, which was full of colorful fruits and vegetables.
At the back of the market were many warungs (or local restaurants) on the seashore and we settled in one of them to enjoy local fare. Unsurprisingly the main thing on offer were different varieties of fish, fried and grilled. But then to my delight what was served with the fish was cooked cassava flour, like Garri or Starch, with a delightful local broth. My guide and other customers in the restaurant were surprised with my familiarity with this meal, which like in Nigeria you scoop and “swallow”.
The smaller island of Tidore is just a few minutes away by boat. From the elevated balcony of my hotel room in Ternate, I could see the black-green shape of the island. We landed at a small jetty and proceeded to tour Tidore on hired motorcycle. It is a quaint little place, almost sleepy in the harsh morning sunlight. Again the contrast between mountain and sea was stunning; we stopped in many coves and beaches to take in many breathtaking scenes. The houses were simple, their doors open, whitewashed and facing the sea. There were colourful even gaily painted mosques every few meters, as we moved from one quarter to another. The whole trip lasted three hours, but it will ever live in my memory. If I ever have the urge to turn away from the world and go live on a small island, I have found the place. I have even inquired about the prices of those sea facing little houses and it is not out of this world!