Garuda Indonesia Colours Magazine August 2016 | Page 76

72

Explore | Flavours

Once drained, the waxy honeycomb can be discarded,
or used to make natural candles.
Each hive can yield up to three litres of honey.

He works quickly and calmly, eventually
lowering the bucket down before
descending as quickly as he went up.
We all retreat to a safe distance and
eagerly inspect the spoils of our first
jackpot. Abidin gently pulls apart the
waxy honeycomb layers and drains every
last drop into the bucket, now brimming
with a good few litres of honey. The flavour
is simply magnificent – a light amber hue in
appearance with floral notes and an earthy
sweetness that beats anything I’ve ever tasted
from a supermarket. It’s also remarkably
good for you, with antiseptic qualities that
can alleviate coughs and sore throats, boost
memory and even be used to treat minor
wounds and burns.

Abidin gently pulls apart the waxy honeycomb layers and
drains every last drop into the bucket, now brimming with
a good few litres of honey. The flavour is simply magnificent
earth does anyone get up there? The ground
plunges steeply away down into the valley
with the trees growing up and out at an
angle, meaning that from my vantage
point the hive is almost at eye level.
But, unless you’re Tarzan, the only
way up is from the base.

I ask Abidin whether there is any sort of
mass production or co-op societies for the
honey down this way, but he tells me it’s
only further west, close to the island’s
largest town of Sumbawa Besar, where
NGOs like the Indonesian Forest Honey
Co-op (JMHI) safeguard and regulate the
majority of Sumbawa’s honey production
while protecting the natural beauty of the
local environment. Here, no such network
exists, and like very few others in the area,
Abidin sells his spoils directly to a handful
of clients, often spending up to a week at
a time in the forest.
Ibrahim decants the honey into a more
portable bottle, being careful not to spill
a drop, and we’re off again, heading further
into the forest for a spo t of lunch near
a beautifully clear natural spring.

The guides set about crafting bundles of
dry leafy branches for producing smoke to
calm the bees, and armed only with one of
these slung over his shoulder, a bush knife
and no protective clothing at all, Abidin
shimmies up the tree in seconds.

Relaxed and rejuvenated, we go in search
of our second score of the day, traversing
boulder-strewn rivers that tumble down
the hillside, eventually chancing upon a hive
that is even more precariously positioned
than the first. Once again, the three men set
about preparing the smoking branches, and
Abidin is up and down in no time at all with
another good few litres of amber nectar.

Perching just above the hive, he waves the
smoke around as a few thousand bees emerge
and swarm everywhere. It’s a genuinely
frightening experience – even from 20-odd
metres away, but Abidin swears he doesn’t
get stung and sets to work slicing off the
outer layer of the honeycomb, filling up
the bucket dangling precariously underneath.

As dusk begins to fall, we make our way
back down towards the village, our way
initially guided by the call of the evening
prayers at the local mosque. It’s not long
before we arrive back at Abidin’s house,
dirty and pretty exhausted, but with a
hoard of honey that will keep us all
going for a good few months.