A few days in Brunei
We were intrigued to say the least. The Sultanate of Brunei Darussalam (the ‘Abode of Peace’), squeezed into northern Borneo in two separate tiny pieces of land is one of those places where you go because you’re almost there. Virtually all foreign visitors enter via the neighbouring Malaysian states of Sabah or Sarawak and generally on transit between the two. Reading up on ‘what to do’ you’d be forgiven for thinking ‘well what’s the point?’ The overwhelming advice from guidebooks and travel blogs is ‘it’s a bit dull’… Ironically, for us, that only increased the lure.
Many people think Brunei is in the Middle East. It has a Sultan, it’s oil rich, it’s an Islamic state. It sounds like it should be. Yet here it is, a rather peculiar anomaly nestled in the jungles of eastern Asia. But rich as it may be, this is no Abu Dhabi or Dubai or Singapore. Most of the buildings and streets in the capital, Bandar Seri Begawan, seem ‘normal’, even a little shabby. Far from being dull, it has a quirky appeal and a rather unique character. To us it felt like a strange hybrid of central Asia, with some fine examples of outlandish architecture, a typical Malay town and, bizarrely, Venice.
Bandar Seri Begawan is indeed known as the ‘Venice of the East’ due to the Kampong Ayer, the biggest overwater village left in the world just offshore from the mainland. Here a sprawling collection of shutter-board houses protrude from the waters of the Brunei River on concrete stilts, connected by a series of rather precarious and weathered wooden walkways. Getting between places, especially in the rain or in the dark, takes an effort of concentration to avoid the rotten planks and holes. I trod on the edge of one plank whilst taking a photo and the whole thing lifted off. Had I not swivelled away pretty quickly I’d have been in the murky river below. The Kampong is a marvel to be honest. Teeming with character, it’s a huge draw for the trickle of visitors it receives, and yet it is in an appalling state of neglect. We were lucky enough to be staying in a wonderfully maintained and hugely eclectic and atmospheric guesthouse, run by a local artist, Kem, which made our stay fabulous. But so many other dwellings in the Kampong have been left to disintegrate and the whole place is steadily crumbling into the water.
Kunyit 7 Lodge – our home for 4 nights
Kampong Ayer
An initiative to build new and rather bland houses in some areas is enticing people to leave their traditional homes. These new places are modern and are less expensive to maintain. There’s also a big financial incentive to abandon Kampong homes entirely for new concrete pads on the mainland, where everything is cheaper. In short, the odds against the water village surviving are stacked against it. Kem, when not painting birds, attending artistic debates or rescuing cats (she had 5 in the house, all previously abandoned animals that she retrieved from various places, including some about to drown in the river), tries to support local initiatives, such as the wonderful stilt-bound restaurant serving beautiful and ridiculously cheap meals. But even she knows the writing is on the wall. We were the last guests to stay at her place (the only place in the village that takes guests anyway). As soon as we’d left, work was due to start to convert it into a studio.
Downtown Bandar Seri Begawan
Brunei has a small selection of other attractions, some of which are worthwhile, some of which are, to be frank, a little strange. There are a couple of beautiful mosques, the Omar Ali Saifuddien, a gleaming white and gold pile surrounded by an evaporating lake and something that resembled a pirate ship cast in concrete, and the Jame’ Asr Hassanil Bolkiah, an absolutely wonderful construction that exuded grace, peace and harmony. We spent an hour or so touring them both and were impressed with their calm simplicity. There was a history museum, which attempts to chart the golden age of the kingdom of Brunei, which once held sway over the whole of Borneo, followed by a long and woeful decline in which competing European powers and eventually the rapacious land-grabbing exploits of the Rajah Brooke dynasty of Sarawak swallowed up 90% of its territory. Displays showing treaties that ceded enormous tracts of land were everywhere. Nowhere was there an explanation as to why everything was given away.
Omar Ali Saifuddien mosque
Omar Ali Saifuddien mosque
Omar Ali Saifuddien mosque
Omar Ali Saifuddien mosque
Omar Ali Saifuddien mosque
Omar Ali Saifuddien mosque
Jame’ Asr Hassanil Bolkiah mosque
Jame’ Asr Hassanil Bolkiah mosque
Jame’ Asr Hassanil Bolkiah mosque
Jame’ Asr Hassanil Bolkiah mosque
Jame’ Asr Hassanil Bolkiah mosque
Best though, was the delightfully quirky Royal Regalia Museum. Shaped like an Islamic interpretation of a German First World War infantry helmet, complete with enormous pointy spike, its cavernous interior was an unashamedly sycophantic tribute to the Sultan and his exploits since being thrust into power in 1967, when his father unexpectedly abdicated. Entire rooms were dedicated to the inauguration ceremony and the street parade that wound its way through the streets of Bandar Brunei, as the city was then known. Both the coronation and silver jubilee barges were lovingly displayed complete with mock bearers and surrounded by life-sized cardboard cut-outs of the procession crowds. Best of all were the displays of gifts given to the Sultan over the years, ranging from massive and hugely expensive solid gold replicas of forts and palaces around the world, to diamante-studded portraits of the man himself (where the white teeth twinkle at you as you walk past). Several women sat on the floor meticulously polishing tiny replicas of oil derricks, gifts from Saudi Arabia that had apparently tarnished over time. Though we couldn’t find it on display, we understand the Queen presented the Sultan with a large beer tankard on her visit in 1972, an act of most humorous irony in this driest of dry states. We wondered if he’d seen the funny side. Interestingly, nowhere was there any explanation as to why the previous incumbent decided to chuck it all in. We researched later and found he’d simply had enough of dealing with the crap, having reluctantly been forced to put down a rebellion a few years earlier when the populace objected to the idea of joining the Malaysian federation. Though in effect this was successful (Brunei remained British and eventually gained full independence in 1984), the ingratitude must have clearly rankled….
We finished up our brief time with a trip down the Brunei river, in one of the speedy boats normally used to cross over to the Kampong. Shooting down the river at speed, the city is soon replaced by emerald green banks of endless trees with the odd crocodile, monitor lizard and macaque dotting the riverbanks. Fascinating though these are, people come out here in the main to see the easily spotted Proboscis Monkeys that congregate in several favourite trees at dusk. We’ve been lucky enough to see these beauties before, with their enormous and amusing wobbly facial appendages the last time we were in Borneo, in Sabah province. There the monkeys were in a sanctuary, but here they roam truly wild and apparently unconcerned at the smattering of boats that form a small flotilla around their feeding grounds.
Our boatman dropped us off at the Bandar Seri Begawan night-market, shooting off down a tributary of the river leading directly to the wharf outside. Unfortunately our anticipated stately arrival was somewhat reduced by the river inconveniently running out of water. Rather than regally motoring to our disembarkation point, the boatman had to paddle us there in the inches of water that were left and which were rapidly turning into a gloopy stream of mud. Alas, the night market was a little dull. Lots of friendly persons, but all the stalls sold fried rubbish and nothing of any real interest to the culinary connoisseur.
A strange and low-key collection of attractions and experiences, but to be honest we loved it. There was something wonderful about rising each day from our simple digs to sit out on the guesthouse deck in the cooler breeze of morning (most other times we broiled like pork chops in the heat) to plan or write or just take in the river scenes, then a few hours each day hopping from bonkers museums to lovely mosques to obliging wildlife. Not dull in the slightest.
Footnote: One of the most appealing and emblematic aspects of Brunei are the water taxis and staying in the Kampong Ayer, we had no choice but to use them to get back and forth from our guesthouse. They’re cheap, and offer short but most friendly experiences. We met a good deal of the pilots plying the waters, most of whom remembered us and were pleased to share brief words. Brief through necessity rather than choice – the trip from the precariously slippery steps of the mainland jetty over to the even more treacherous steps of the nearest Kampong stop took about 20 seconds.
Footnote: At the Royal Regalia Museum there was a picture of Bandra Seri Begawan’s stadium, where in 1983 as part of the Sultan’s birthday celebrations, a friendly football match took place between the national side and, bizarrely, Sheffield United. Sheffield apparently edged it 1-0. Brunei restored a little pride the day after when a follow-up match ended in a more honourable 1-1 draw.
Footnote: The Sultan of Brunei is now the world’s longest serving monarch and coming up to 60 years on the throne next year. It’s difficult to ascertain what people here actually think of him. On the one hand the country is enormously wealthy through oil and gas, but as ever, that wealth is concentrated on an elite few. Most people struggle to make a living, like anywhere else. There’s most definitely a personality cult going on though. Everywhere, from businesses, to cafes and restaurants to individual homes, the Sultan’s face can be found in a bewildering array of portraiture. From formal, ‘official’ photographs to jaunty oil paintings complete with cool shades, he’s portrayed in a variety of poses – serious one minute, indulging in a tug of war the next. Is this reverence, respect or fear? Perhaps all. It reminded us of our time in Syria, just before the civil war started, when everywhere you went, the authoritarian stare of Bashar Al Assad would find you, like an ever present Big Brother. Here at least the faces are contained within buildings and they can be escaped by going outside. The Sultan hit the headlines a few years ago when he decided to impose the Shariah penal code on his people. In theory at least, an adultress can be stoned to death and a thief parted from his hands. Luckily no-one’s had to endure anything like that so far, but it suggests a slide towards total authoritarianism as his age and desire for control increases. Dictators come in many shapes and sizes, benign or otherwise….
Simon (16th June 2026)