Andrew Unsworth lands in the lap of luxury on the splendidly 'secret' island, Bintan, near Singapore It takes just an hour to cross the Singapore Strait to the Indonesian island of Bintan but, due to the time zones, you arrive at the same hour that you left. That's about all that's the same, because it's a world away from the skyscraping modernity of Singapore.Part of the Riau archipelago, Bintan is over twice the size of Singapore but mostly rural. Along its north coast, a resort zone has been created to house 12 luxury resorts, which seem to look more back across the straits to rich Singapore than they do to the island.But then, we were here for a resort visit at Club Méditerranée (Club Med) Bintan. As soon as we arrived, we were whisked off into the resort. The island would just have to wait.story_article_left1I must admit I had the wrong idea about Club Med: I imagined it to cater for sophisticated European holidaymakers, young couples and intimidatingly rich, beautiful people.After all, it was once owned by Baron Edmond de Rothschild. It was once all that, but has long since become a family-oriented "club" where each one is an all-inclusive village aimed at having fun: sport, entertainment, participation and "activities".If that's what you want, they will keep you very busy. If not, they will happily leave you alone. It's now Chinese-owned as well, so perhaps this one could more accurately have been called Club South China Sea.And this particular "village" was simply gorgeous, looking out over perfect lawns and palm trees to a perfect curved tropical island beach, said to be the finest private beach in Indonesia.Boards warned of steeply sloping sands but, by South African standards, it was positively tame and it took a long wade through warm water to find the depth to swim.Once there, I found myself surrounded by a shoal of small, yellow-and-black, striped fish. I stood among them for ages until they lost interest and moved away. Could an island beach be any better?Well, maybe, with the entertainment and bonhomie offered by Club Med. The restaurant empties before the evening entertainment starts - whether it be a slick stage routine in the theatre, a session of dancing on the beach or a circus-style trapeze show over the swimming pool.All performers are Club Med employees but who exactly is employed to entertain and who is a general staffer who's just joined the chorus line is impossible to ascertain.Another Club Med thing is sport and this one offered more than any one guest could fit in. There is everything from badminton and basketball to archery and kayaking. You can even try your skills on the trapeze, thankfully over a net, not the pool.full_story_image_vleft1Early one morning I emerged onto my balcony to see a small group of people on the lawn below, all bums-up. For a moment I thought it was a lawn-weeding class but it turned out to be yoga.I was bemused to find there were six South Africans on the staff (the flag of all staff members' countries is on their name-tags), including two golf instructors. Tumo Motaung hails from Qua Qua in the Free State; Robert Uren comes from Sabie in Mpumalanga. Both ended up on Bintan through golf.Nearby, Ria Bintan is considered one of the best golf courses in Asia but a round there is not part of the club's all-inclusive package.With a vastly varied guest list, the village has to cater accordingly: the main Waterfall restaurant served all meals from Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Indian and Western food stations. Incredibly, there was no Indonesian station but I managed to concoct the most eclectic meals from the different cuisines, shunning the Western section for anything more than croissants and brioche for breakfast.block_quotes_start Indonesia apparently punts Bintan as the next Bali, but it is no Bali, it's more rustic and raw block_quotes_endThe Terrasse restaurant, perched on some rocks next to the beach, did offer nasi goreng, Indonesia's famous fried rice, but I soon decided it was, as with hotels anywhere, an adequate but dumbed-down version for tourists, and I was determined to find the real thing.That involved getting a taxi, which the front desk was happy to organise. It took two companions and me 12km to the dormitory village of Puja Sera, where most of the resorts' staff live and which has sprouted its own food bazaar and shops.We asked the driver to take us somewhere "where the local people eat" for lunch - that food bazaar being a bit too far along that scale.And so it was off to Kelong Aneka Seafood restaurant along the coast. This stood over water on a wide jetty, with views of the coast on each side. Indonesia at last.There were live fish and assorted crustaceans in saltwater tanks, just waiting to be selected and put out of their misery and onto a plate, but the three of us settled for that nasi goreng , or three versions of it: seafood, chicken and black pepper.None came with a fried egg on top as is the custom in Amsterdam, but all were good. For drinks we were given fresh coconuts chopped open, and a straw.full_story_image_hright2Again with the help of the hotel, we booked a day tour to the capital of the island, Tanjung Pinang.First stop was a roadside stall selling fruit as I wanted my companion, Chantelle Dupreez of Singapore Airlines, to sample rambutans, rather like lychees, and the notorious durian fruit: a disgusting smell but an acquired taste, it is claimed.The trick backfired as the cut fruit lay stinking on the seat between us until we passed it forward to our guide and it mysteriously disappeared.At last, at the fishing village of Senggarang, largely built with homes and boardwalks on stilts over the sea, we knew we were off the tourist track. This was a "Chinese village", our guide explained in very basic English.The island is, we had been told, 60% Muslim, 20% Christian, 15% Buddhist and 5% Hindu.Clean but simple and sparse homes stood with their doors open but the waterways between and under them were packed with litter and plastic.Maybe the tide was out, but I doubted even a high tide could flush it out.Old men sat around outside an old Buddhist temple, a banyan tree growing on top of it and the roots covering its sides in a web.A sampan ride across the bay took us to the "Muslim village" on Penyengat Island. It looked more prosperous, with narrow, neatly paved roads.A becak or motorcycle rickshaw bumped us around the main sites, which include royal tombs and a dramatic little mosque painted in green and yellow, but which we couldn't enter as it was barred to non-Muslims.story_article_right2The tomb was Engku Putri Raja Hamidah tomb complex, containing royal graves as well as that of Raja Ali Hajji (1808- 1873), one of Malay-Riau's greatest poets. The mosque was the Grand Mosque of the Sultan of Riau, built in 1844 with, or so legend has it, egg white in the cement.Without a guide book or Google, it can be hard to appreciate what you are looking at but sometimes it is enough to sit and just absorb it.We stopped for coffee and fried bananas at a bed-and-breakfast opposite the mosque, watching people pass on bikes and kids walking home from school.Suddenly, rain was bucketing down and we were stuck, marooned on a verandah, trying to make conversation with some Malaysians who were in town for a concert that night.The nearby island capital of Tanjung Pinang was hardly as picturesque: a jumble of scruffy buildings over the hills, it had nothing to show for its Dutch-colonial past, which our guide was unaware of anyway: she was more intent on letting us shop.In some parts of the world foreign rulers have come and gone, only to be forgotten.Indonesia apparently punts Bintan as the next Bali, but it is no Bali, it's more rustic and raw. The Club Med experience on the island, however, is as polished as you'd expect.South Africans heading this way would be smart to stop over in Singapore, either before or after their perfect beach holiday. That way, you'd get a great blend of those splendid skyscrapers and gentle sands.Unsworth was a guest of Singapore Airlines and Club Med Bintan Island...