Not far from the urban predictability of South East Asia lie the Riau islands. Three thousand are scattered in this unique archipelago between Singapore and eastern Sumatra. Many are uninhabited, lashed by merciless monsoon winds. Some are mere outcrops, pirate touchstones along an ancient trade route. But few are as beguiling as Nikoi Island. Set across forty pristine acres, it’s a paean to an eco-luxe experience, intriguingly crafted in a region awash with cookie cutter spa resorts.

Getting there is itself a refreshing journey.  Mine begins in Singapore, 50 miles due north of Nikoi.  First, a taxi ride into Tanah Merah jetty to catch a catamaran over to Bintang island.  On board, cell phone signals noticeably weaken as the waves crest stronger. Crowds of travelers drop off here to the fancier spa hotels.  For us, though, it’s an additional hour’s car ride, winding across hills of palm oil plantations and small road stalls hawking durians. Descending towards the small jetty in Kawal, rows of fishing huts and the brilliant breadth of the South China Sea come into full view.  Here, a private boat arrives to whisk guests on a short power ride to the island. As the white sands and towering banyan trees slowly gather on the horizon, all that’s seemingly material melts into air.

This hideaway is a production of Australian financiers and an American architect. They bought the island, and weary of the “flea infested or dripping chandeliers” in other regional resorts, developed an alternative destination. To limit landscape intrusion, only 15 villas along the beach have been built.  Left untouched is the Banyan forest teeming with wild bird life. Swimming pools, carved out from granite boulders, seemingly fold into the hillside.

This sustainable approach is expressed in the beach villa itself. There’s a choice of one to three-bedrooms, designed to maximize axial coastal winds. The newer ones on the south shore are expansive two story affairs fashioned from driftwood, and native alang-alang blade grass.  Each ground level lounge is just steps from the beach.  The upstairs bedroom, with its vaulted high-ceiling, is based on traditional longhouse design where humidity is drawn up and released. At night, we drop the flowing mosquito nets onto a welcoming bed, open the sliding doors, letting in the sea breezes and revel in the forest sounds until sunrise.

Meals bring out the best of local ingredients, some gathered from the nearby organic farm plots. One evening, we had fiery delicious sambal prawns paired with a crisp steely Riesling. While communal, dinners can also be taken in your own villa. During the rest of the day, sure, there are the obligatory kayaking and scuba diving opportunities. Even a lively bar scene with Yogi the bartender who’ll mix mean piña coladas.

But for three days, we carved our own time and space:  collecting cowries, reading in our outdoor Balinese hut, while distancing the memory of an unforgiving New York winter. No man is an island, but this one comes remarkably close as one can be with stars in the quiet skies.

Crave Travel, published Aug 2012