Simply Abu Dhabi XXXII

A s I cover my face with a cold towel, lying ready and rolled in the van, suitcases being loaded into the back, I close my eyes a little longer than anticipated and get startled by the sudden speed we’re making heading out of the airport parking. In the next days, I come to realise this is the only possible means to travel on the island, as well as to claim the right of way on the rugged roads and winding motorways. I hold on to the towel, in case I need it to wipe away the droplets of fear running down my face or simply to hide away altogether. Excitement wins over and I decide to keep a close eye on the road and what lies behind it— where wilderness might show its first sign. Sumba Soil The island of Sumba is one of the poorest of Indonesian islands. With its lack of natural resources, it depends on its location and the stunning beauty of the surrounding seas. The mountainous terrain makes it difficult to cultivate land and thus the islanders have become resourceful in their ways to farm and exist. The few flat surfaces on the island have become a major food source in the shape angular plots of rice fields, bordered by papaya trees and coconut palms, while in the distance clouds of smoke on the sloping hills are signs of small workable plots made ready for easy-growing crops. Passing through towns, enclaves of wooden huts and traditional houses, the van hobbles from gravel roads to windy tarmac passing by trucks and motorbikes a plenty with entire families tucked on. All the while beautiful structured roofs and handcrafted thumbs and totems, part of the worshipping rituals and crafted with pristine precision and devotion, pop up along the way. Tradition is still a big part of the Sumba culture, as recent as the previous century (1960s) head-hunting was still practised and today, the island continues to show signs of established habits: men with machetes tucked in their tribal waist belts, even hand-carved spears feature in the annual Pasoala (held mid-February) recreating historical disputes. Yet in my kind of Sumba, the island people are smiling their bright Sumba smiles and children run along the side of the road, waving their hands by the sight of the van passing by. It takes a while to get to the other side of the island, to the “edge of wilderness”, as the driver anticipated. And it is true, good things come to all those who wait, as I have hit the island jackpot in so many ways. It will take me a good few days to overcome the initial amazement. Glad to know, I am staying for a few nights, and days, and cannot wait to explore what lies beyond the edge of this so-called wilderness. Nihi’s Nirvana Passing a winding road down to the reception, I amwelcomed with a cold drink and the first signs of what lies ahead: Nihi—the nirvana for my stay. Peeking through the greenery of palm trees and lush jungle-like vegetation, the tall grass-thatched roofs of the Sumba houses, also called witches hats, give me that magical feeling belonging to a place such as Nihi. The tiny roads to the abodes and never-ending vistas are adding to the magic. The secret that holds the key to this piece of island paradise is the world’s most coveted private surf wave, a right-hand wave called Occy’s Left, named after Australian Surfer Mark Occhilupu. Catching a good ride isn’t as easy as it looks, but once you make the right pick, the reward is a 200m to 300m long and often thrilling ride down the line through sections of ripple walls and heaving barrels. Plus, Nihi only allows up to 10 guests a day to master the wave, making it the most- enchanted bonus to your stay. It is hard to describe Nihi, it is not a retreat, resort nor hotel—it more feels like an island paradise sprinkled with a hint of fairy dust creating that twinkle in your eye upon arriving. As if you received the glass slipper of all fairy tales, and it fits! 2 2 3 S I M P LY A B U DH A B I