bandar seri begawan

It's been a day and a half since my journey up to Brunei from Miri. It wasn't as straightforward as I'd hoped getting up here, taking six hours, four buses, and a boat ride across a river.

I was pleased to leave the Thai Foh Inn. I shared my room there with two others, although I was not aware of the fact until the morning of my check out. Getting ready to go I opened my wash bag and two cockroaches darted out and onto my hand. They made a sprint circuit around the wash bag, and then made for the finish line back inside between my toothpaste and shower gel. I eventually got them out, and they scuttled under the double bed in my room for sanctuary. Reluctant to pursue them further I checked out and walked over to Miri bus station. I was pleased to leave.

It didn't take long to reach the border with Brunei (about an hour) but it took a while to pass through immigration and onto a bus the otherside. I got off to a bad start with Brunei. As I entered I was ready, and hopeful, of moving on to a new page in my passport, and eagerly handed it over to the immigration official open neatly on the page where I wanted my next visa stamp. To my dismay he gazed at the blank page, then turned back several and, for no reason other than sheer malice, banged down his stamp next to my Japan entry details. 'That page is already amply full you cretin,' I wanted to shout at him, 'why didn't you start a new page? You've screwed up my passport you government automaton!!' But I thought better of it, and kept my mouth shut.

A bus then took me and several other locals up to Kuala Belait, where a river blocked our passage. We disembarked from the bus and jumped in a small motorboat which took us across. On the other side another bus was waiting to take us on north to Seria, and drove us up along the Brunei coast. Off shore the horizon was dotted with oil rigs, the reason for Brunei's wealth and fame. When we reached Seria I had to wait for an hour for a connecting bus to Bandar Seri Begawan (the capital city and my destination). I was amused to find the station master doing no work while I waited, instead preferring to play out tunes on a casio piano keyboard on his lap, singing cheerfully as he played. The bus eventually left and took a couple more hours to reach Bandar, dropping me right in the city centre. As we drove I noted the large houses along the roadside, and how many cars there were in each driveway (often four or five: Brunei has the highest rate of car ownership in the world).

I'm staying in the dormitory at the Pusat Belia, which is a sports and youth centre. There aren't many tourists here but those who are seem to be almost uniformly British. My dorm is clean and comfortable (no cockroaches) and within my budget. There's also an internet cafe on the premises, which would be very useful if it were open during the hours it is supposed to be.

Brunei is very different from how I imagined. In my mind's eye I'd always thought of it as a Middle Eastern desert country like Saudi Arabia. Of course, it is nothing like this and is located in another part of the world. Most of the country is lush jade green rainforest, and the feel is decidedly South East Asian, although with clear Islamic influences everywhere you go.

Bandar Seri Bagawan, known locally either as Bandar or BSB, is a pleasant place to be. It has a population of roughly seventy thousand, is nicely laid out, modern, and feels only half inhabited. Like Singapore, the roads are half empty (no hint of congestion), and in most of the restaurants I'm the only customer. Bandar hugs the Sungai Brunei River. On one side (my side) is the modern city, whilst on the other is Kampung Ayer, an old fashioned stilt house water village where - incredibly - thirty thousand people live. I've seen water villages already on this trip, and Kampung Ayer is comparable except, Brunei being Brunei, the stilt houses are much, much bigger than any I've seen before.

I spent yesterday morning walking the gang planks of Kampung Ayer and found the people I encountered very friendly indeed. Everyone wanted to say hello, shake hands, and welcome me to Brunei. It was a hot morning but I had a really good time investigating the tangled wooden mess that somehow fits together cohesively and safely. I've also had a look around the city centre, including a few hours in the Yayasan Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah Complex, which is the big shopping centre here. I'm currently making my way through the local museums and mosques as well, and have been to, or am in the process of visiting, the Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque, the Jame'Asr Hassinil Bolkiah Mosque, the Royal Regalia Building, the Brunei Museum, the Sultan Bolkiah's Tomb, and the Istana Nurul Iman (the Sultan's Palace).

Brunei is clearly a very rich country. Most societies divide into 'have's' and 'have nots' but Brunei is an exception to the rule. Here people are either 'have's' or 'have mores.' Brunei, it seems to me, is not wealthy because of hard work, innovation, or intelligence. It is wealthy through luck and in consequence to geographical proximity to oil. The people here have not earned their homes, they have been blessed with good fortune. This is quite a worrying basis (and it is pretty much the sole basis) for prosperity as the oil is due to run out in twenty or so years, and no-one is sure what will happen then. I myself am not convinced that the people here have what it takes to continue their success without their easy oil ride. Looking around I see no-one who looks industrious or entrepreneuring. Everywhere is overstaffed, and most of the services I've used have all revealed a level of complacent incompetence which has really surprised me (I've just had breakfast in a restaurant where I was the only customer and there were eight waiters on duty - and they still got my order wrong).

Brunei's conservatism, based on Islamic Law, has also struck me since arrival, and has begun to rub up against my own liberal preferences. I can't get a beer (banned), everyone is very discretely attired, and everyone everywhere seems to want to stick closely to the rules (boring). I got quite a telling off in the Royal Regalia Building yesterday for taking a photograph in a section where photographs are prohibited (it was my mistake, but it was a mistake), and was frogmarched to the reception area where the manager insisted on supervising me delete the offending picture and wanted to check all the other images on my camera to make sure I had nothing untoward. Internet cafe supervisors also seem afraid to let me upload my photographs for some reason. I think here you don't do things unless you've been given explicit permission. Discretion and initiative are alien qualities.

I'm off now to see the Sultan's four hundred million dollar palace, and then perhaps on to a Mosque to find a cleric who can advise me on what the Koran has to say about extravagant wealth, personal indulgence, and profligate spending.