The Singapore government has repeatedly promised to "conserve" Ubin for as long as possible. Plans for a "Ubin Park" have been floated. But the island faces existential threats. The population is aging and shrinking. Storms are eroding the coastline. And the mainland is always hungry—for land, for housing, for memory.
And you realize: Pulau Ubin isn't a museum. It’s not a theme park. It’s a stubborn heartbeat. A reminder that even in Singapore, some places refuse to grow up. Take MRT to Tanah Merah (EW4), then Bus No. 2 to Changi Village Hawker Centre. Bumboat to Ubin ($4 SGD each way) departs when 12 passengers are seated. Bring cash, insect repellent, and water. Do not feed the wild boars. singapore pulau ubin
"People ask me why I don't move to the mainland," he says, spitting a stream of red betel nut juice onto the dirt. "I say: Why would I? My son is in a HDB flat. He locks his door. He doesn't know his neighbour. Here, my door is always open. The jungle is my air-conditioner." The population is aging and shrinking
The quarrymen are gone now. The last mine shut in the 1990s. But their legacy remains in the island’s topography. Today, the flooded quarries—most famously Pekan Quarry and Ubin Quarry —are breathtakingly beautiful. Kettles of tea-green water sit inside sheer rock walls, framed by ferns and strangler figs. Dragonflies patrol the surface like tiny helicopters. If you stand still enough, you might spot a monitor lizard gliding into the depths. At its peak, Ubin housed over 2,000 people. Today, fewer than 40 remain. These are the orang pulau —island people—living in the last true kampong (village) in Singapore. There is no running sewage. Electricity only arrived in the 1990s, and many homes still rely on diesel generators or solar panels. And you realize: Pulau Ubin isn't a museum