Terror @ Pulau Ubin - I

Sunday, 13 April 2008

It was 5pm as we got off the ferry at Pulau Ubin. The ride was smooth and short, much shorter than the amount of time we had spent waiting at Changi Ferry Terminal for more visitors to the island - the ferry wouldn't leave unless there were 12 people. August, me and another couple ended up splitting the fare amongst ourselves.

It had seemed like a better idea than waiting another hour for eight people to show up.

August hadn't been so keen on cycling by the time we arrived but I was as I didn't want to make the trip for nothing. So we got our bikes from one of the many shops with big signages that shouted "$2".

We got on our bikes and pedalled our way through the little town, onto the path that would take us to explore the island. Before long, we reached a left turn into some grass patch amidst sand and soil.

That was when the first wave - or perhaps, more accurately, a little ripple - of an unpleasant feeling came over me. I breathed hard and sucked it all in. This wasn't a good time to let my imagination run wild; we had only just started on our 'expedition'!

"There are many people around, and the sky's still bright," I rationalised.

So off August and I went... further into the island... leaving behind the throngs of crowd... finding ourselves meandering on the path surrounded by forests on both sides.

We passed a couple of derelict drink stalls. I cannot imagine when they were ever patronised.

We went into a side lane to see some temples built on a mound beside a lake with many dogs lazing by. August asked if I wanted to stop to visit the temples and I had said I didn't particularly want to.

That uncomfortable feeling of unpleasantness had not been dismissed.

We went on. Came to a yellow and red signboard that pointed out, "German Girl Shrine" up ahead. Apparently, this German girl who had been running away from British soldiers back in WWI had ran there and fallen to her death. Subsequent sightings of her had led the islanders to build a shrine for her but her remains had long been moved elsewhere.

I was overwhelmed by anxiety by this time - without knowing why - and the best that I can liken it to, is perhaps, a feeling of claustrophobia.

So when we reached a path that led to a Clearing where open skies could be seen, I was relieved to be able to turn left onto it.

Did the place really exist? I've been wondering for the last 2-3 days. After poring over 620 photos yesterday and not finding a single shot of it (despite it being a rather nice place, with green grass and ferns, cobbled pathways that wound round the grass patch, overlooking an island opposite, the sea in between and big, open skies) only serves to make me wonder more.

It was a mistake to turn into that clearing.