Baubau Buton Island, Indonesia South East Sulawesi

Few travellers could point to Buton Island on a map. Yet it's here, southeast of Indonesia's Sulawesi, that one of the largest fortified enclosures on the planet stretches out. Baubau, the island's main town, has kept alive for four centuries the memory of a maritime sultanate that once watched over the spice route. From the deck, the arrival sets the tone: hills covered in coconut palms, tin roofs descending toward a bustling harbour, and the sense of reaching a world that has stayed apart from the main currents of travel. The expedition ships that stop here open up to their passengers an Indonesia that mainstream itineraries still overlook.

From Murhum Dock to the Waterfront

Ships dock at Murhum port, about two kilometres from the centre. The distance is covered in a few minutes by taxi or with an unhurried walk along the water, past painted fishing boats and warehouses giving off the smell of dried fish and cloves. The energy builds as you approach Wameo Market, where stalls overflow with the morning's catch, spices, and fruits that don't always have a French name. Vendors call out with a laugh, you sample, you take photos, and the first few minutes of the port call already set the tone for the day.

The Citadel of the Buton Sultanate

On the heights, the Keraton citadel watches over the bay. Built in the 16th century from coral stone and limestone, it stretches nearly three kilometres of walls around a plateau of roughly 23 hectares, earning it recognition from Guinness World Records as the largest fortification in the world. The Sultanate of Buton ruled from behind these walls for more than four hundred years, controlling the strait and its seafarers. This isn't a site frozen in time: families still live between the bastions, laundry dries near the old cannons, and children play in the shade of mango trees. The old Keraton mosque, still in use today, remains the most moving witness to that continuity.

A Welcome You Won't Forget

The visit takes on another dimension when the locals get involved. Depending on the port call, welcome dances greet passengers right at the gangway, weavers display their fabrics with geometric patterns, and you can hear Cia-Cia spoken, a language found almost nowhere else but this region. These encounters, simple and unstaged, often rank among the most memorable moments of the day; many visitors leave with a folded piece of cloth under their arm and an invitation to come back.

Views over the Bay

From the ramparts, the panorama takes in the rooftops, the minarets and the turquoise waters of the strait, criss-crossed by cargo ships and outrigger canoes. It's a good moment to catch your breath before heading back down to stroll along the shore, where cafés serve strong local coffee alongside fried banana fritters. Photographers should watch for the late-afternoon light on the coral walls, which turn golden at that hour. Some excursions also add a boat trip to nearby white-sand islets and coral gardens, weather and swell permitting. A practical tip: the equatorial heat rarely lets up, so a water bottle, a hat and some small local currency notes make the walk far more pleasant.

Heading back to the gangway, you take stock of just how unexpected this stop has been: a fortress larger than many walled cities in Europe, a sultanate whose history is still waiting to be told, and faces that keep waving long after the ship departs. Buton hasn't yet made it into cruise passengers' conversations. Those who've set foot there already know they'll be talking about it.

Frequently Asked Questions

At Murhum port, some two kilometres from the centre. You cover the distance in a few minutes by taxi or on a quiet walk along the water, between painted fishing boats and warehouses giving off the smell of dried fish and cloves.
In south-eastern Sulawesi, Indonesia. Few travellers can place it on a map, and that is precisely what makes the call interesting: Baubau opens an Indonesia that standard itineraries still overlook.
The largest fortress enclosure in the world according to the Guinness Book of Records: nearly three kilometres of coral-stone and limestone walls, raised in the sixteenth century around a plateau of roughly 23 hectares. From here the Sultanate of Buton watched over the strait and its navigators.
No, and that is what gives it its charm. Families still live between the bastions, laundry dries beside old cannon and children play in the shade of mango trees. The old Keraton mosque, still in use, is the most moving evidence of that continuity.
Rooftops, minarets and the turquoise water of the strait, crossed by cargo ships and canoes. It is the view that explains the sultanate's strategic position, and photographers wait for late-day light, when the coral walls turn golden.
The town's market, where stalls overflow with the morning's catch, spices and fruit that often have no English name. The sellers call out laughing, you taste, you photograph — the first minutes of the call already set the tone for the day.
Depending on the call, with welcome dances at the gangway, weavers unrolling geometric-patterned cloth, and conversation in Cia-Cia, a language spoken almost only in this region. These simple, unstaged encounters are often the strongest moments of the day.
Locally woven cloth with geometric patterns: many visitors leave with a folded length under their arm and an invitation to return. Bring small local banknotes for purchases and cafés.
Sometimes. Shore excursions may add a boat trip to nearby white-sand islets and coral gardens, but availability depends on the season and the swell.
A bottle of water, a hat and some small local notes: the equatorial heat barely eases, and those three details make the walk far more comfortable. On the way back, cafés along the shore serve strong local coffee with banana fritters.