The wind skims across our skin in the back seat of the open-air Bolero as we hurtle along the asphalt roads on the outskirts of the national park.

At 6.30am, everything is bathed in the glow of a milky golden light.

Please subscribe or log in to continue reading the full article. Learn more about ST PREMIUM.

Enjoy unlimited access to ST’s best work

  • Exclusive stories and features on multiple devices
  • In-depth analyses and opinion pieces
  • ePaper and award-winning multimedia content