And my adventures continue...

September 28th, 2pm.
I am now sitting on the floor of the ferry boat connecting Lembar, Lombok, to Padangbai, Bali. The ocean is wild and the boat is seriously swinging right and left.

So, where did I left off at my last post?
Hmmm...that was September 12th. Lots has happened since then. Wow!

First, Jogjakarta. What a vibrating city! My stop there was only of two days, one night. Thanks to Dina in Borobudur, I managed to have a couch surfing host, Paul. Thank you Paul for letting me crash at your boarding house.

My highlights of that city were two.

I accidentally made my way to an batik art studio where I not only was able to see beautiful pieces of batik art, but also learn the art of batik and how this strange process works. Very interesting and lengthy. The results are stunning, but I wonder why these artists have never seen the feasibility and efficiency of much simpler and faster processes. Oh well...such is art...the process is part of it.

Then, as I was chatting with a toothless old retired journalist who was so happy to practice the few English words he knew, a young man on a scooter asked me if I needed directions. Hmmm...one of those pseudo guides who want nothing but your money or trick you to a place where they get a commission. Well, not at all. Pfff...it is always so challenging to quickly make the difference between these scams and those who genuinely want to help you. So happens that this young man, Bayu, grew up in the neighborhood, and that the water palace used to be his summer playground as a kid. Ha! My luck! I jumped on his motorbike. We drive off to a little place where he buys me iced tea.  He tells me he is an entrepreneur interior designer. He signed a 'big' contract today, so his day is over and he wants to show me around. Sure! Great for me! :-). So then he shows me the hidden underground mosque. Wow! What an architectural jewel. Very simple, pure, ottoman structure, away for the public's eye. Beautiful. He tells me and shows me the locked gate that gives access to an underground tunnel that goes all the way to the ocean!!! That's days of walking.
Then he takes me to the animal market, a good 20 minutes away. All kinds of snakes, birds, mouse, dogs, cats, lizards...quite a change from Manado in Sulawesi, where people actually went to such market to shop for food and not pets. Lol.
And last, to top it off, he takes me to his wife's warong. Ha! The best gado-gado ever. Am telling you. If you want to eat fantastic vegan food served with a beautiful smile, let me know. There is the place.
Bayu was just so nice, genuine, and kind hearted. He had a great day at work and want to share his happiness with a total stranger. Who does that!? Our western world and its pseudo religious principles of kindness has a lot to learn.

I wanted to pay for the food, he refused.

Paul then came to pick me up, to go get my back pack, and head to the Ramayana open air ballet, performing at the foot of the second most important temples of Java. Hahaha! What a joke and tourist trap that show was!!! It's an all year round show, so you would think it would be elaborate in decors, choreography and show overall. Well, not at all. I am pretty sure middle school kids could be way more impressive with only a few months of practice. (I think I fell asleep a few times during the performance). What a relieve when it was over!

OK, so, all night train, headed to Bromo, or better yet, Cemoro Lawang, nearest town to Mount Bromo. Because of my lack of planning and precision when jumping into a minibus, I accidentally end up in a town not on the way to Bromo but rather to Mount Semeru, a much higher volcano's, and much further away. Only practical solution in find once there is to accept the invitation from a group of young local travelers who are headed for a week of camping on Semeru. They propose to drop me off at the junction of the road where i can pick up an ojek to Cemero Lawang. It would in total cost me a lot less to get there via the more common way, but also twice more time. So I go with the flow and jump in the pick up truck they had rented where we end up, all 7 of us, standing for a good hour, while going up and up in the mountain. Gosh! I wish I had had more time, I would totally have joined them on their week of camping.

So, I finally get to that junction. It's at about 2,200 meters altitude. It's cold and dry. There, one skinny guy shows up with his motorbike and tells me to jump on. I see no other road, so am a bit confused as to where this guy thinks he is going to go. Aiiiiii! Well, took only a free seconds to find out. There was no other road...but only an extremely steep downward rocky, muddy, dusty pot holed semi traced path. (Little reminder: I have a 65 liter backpack on my back and a 18 liter pack up front. And we are two on this bike.)

Those who know me, know my fear of motorbikes. (A reason why I got my license I guess...). Anyhow, so off we go, him, super confident, and me, holding on the back of the seat as tight as I can.

And I thought try this part was the worst part. Lol yeah right!
Relieved to finally make it to the bottom, what lays before us? A gigantic, empty, white sand desert...with its dunes. Ha! One hour of biking to cross this desert he tells me. Ever crossed a desert made of dunes, so heavily loaded and with two people on an old commercial motorcycle? Well, that part of my trip is one of the most fun moment of my time in the country. Adventure at its best. :-)

Cemoro Lawang is not much but a tiny little town built along a steep road at high altitude on the edge of a mountain over looking a sand desert at the center of which is set a group of 4 volcanoes. A bit surreal. So, not much to do at all in town but to meet other tourists and stay warm. We quickly make a group of 4 French, one German, 2 dutch, one Spanish and one american.

3 a.m. rings. Time to get up and hit the road to get to the viewpoint for sunrise and then down to the desert to climb the volcano. We have until 10 am to complete this in order to catch to last bus out of town for the day.

Spectacular, spectacular, spectacular! Off, mount bromo being the second tourist attraction (after Borobudur) of Java, lots of tourists. None the less, a spectacle.
We managed to find a short cut and totally off the beaten path way to climb Dow from the viewpoint and to the desert. We cross beautiful farms...I discretely pick put some fresh fava beans from the ground. Delicious breakfast!

The climb up the volcano is pure socio-cultural tourism study spectacle. You should have seen all the business going on around this site. Hilarious at times. (Photos show more...patience!)

We make it to the lip of the crater. The inside of the crater in itself is nothing really interesting. But the view outward is magical. The white desert laying before us, surrounded by more mountains ams volcanoes. Splendid!

We take a little nap up there, waiting for all the tourists to leave. Yay! At last. Now, another absolutely fun part: rather than walking down the path all the way down to the desert like everyone else is doing, we decide to take the riskier and funner way. We take off our shoes, and start running and sliding down the side of the volcano. It is 100% black sand. So it is just as if we were skiing down the mountain. Only difference is if we stop we burn our feet, so we just keep on 'skiing' down. So much fun!

We make it back right on time to take a quick freezing water "shower", change, pack, eat some noodles, and jump in the bus.

For my part and the German guy, Erwin, off to our next volcano, Kawa Ijen, still on Java, but on its far East.

After buses, and ojeks, we finally make it to the entrance of the park, it is 9pm. Freezing cold., no place to sleep if available. All travelers, for the most adventurous ones, spend the night here, not sleeping, as it is free, and way note convenient to hit the trekking path at 1am.

Totally random, but when we get there, we bump into the Spanish girl and the american guy. We have diner together. Then they go sleep in the car they had chartered tom the site. Erwin and I just go take a quick nap on the floor of the ticket office. No more tropical climate. It is freezing cold.

12:55am. Up, shoes on, rain jacket on for the wind, and off we go. Two hours of steep tracking with headlamps on. We finally make it to the famous blue fires.
The crater of Ijen is very famous, thanks to Nicolas Hullot for its sulfur mining activity going on 24/7.

At night, one can see from up high on the crater, the numerous blue flames of the fires that are maintaining the mine active. It is quite a spectacle. As you climb down the very steep and rocky inside facade of the crater, you let yourself being guided by those blue lights. The closer you get, the clearer you see them and their many minors working around them.

And from time to time, out of the total foggy night darkness, you see minors popping out with big baskets filled with chunks of yellow rocks on their back.

Why start the trek at 1am? Well, to have enough time to climb up to the volcano, then down into the crater to spend some time with the minors, and then have enough time to climb back up and trek to the other side of the edge of the crater for the sunrise. And what a sunrise!!!!! Very closely competing with the one from the nirvana viewpoint in Borobudur. MAGICAL!!! And this time, just as awesome inward and outward. Patience...photos are coming...and trust me, well worth the wait. ;0)

Those minors are gods, you should see the work they endure. The paths they walk, and the loads they carry.  And all this for just a few dollars a day. Seriously, forever after that night, no task will ever feel hard or difficult for me. At least if it ever does, I will just have tom remember Ijen.

So, technically, that is 2 volcanoes in 24 hours, with yet no real sleep in three days.

We make it back to the bus terminal. Both the Spanish girl, the american guy and myself are actually headed to Lombok. Them to relax and chill, and me for my third volcano. Rebeka back in Borneo had told me so much good about trekking that volcano.

Well my friends, in French we call that a 'periple'. Let me tell you, in all the guides they say how difficult and long it is to travel in Sulawesi and Sumatra. Pfffff! Yeah right! Compared to Nusa Tenggara, the rest of Indonesia is just so easy and smooth to travel through.

In any case, we catch a bus, a ferry, and arrive in Lombok at 5 am. Pretty tired. Yes. Once there, as it is apparently common practice in Nusa Tenggara, everyone is trying to rob us with ridiculous prices for a simple bus to get to our respective destinations. Senaru for me and Senggigi for them. So what do we do? Well, excuse my French, but screw them. We start walking, with all our gear on. (Seriously, people who don't know how to travel, please stop being fools and paying stupid amounts for everything locals offer to you, you are ruining it all for us. Because of you locals think that we are all as naive and stupid as you.)

After a good half hour of walking in the deserted streets of the harbor town, a minivan finally stops and accepts the price we had told me earlier at the harbor. After four months in the country I am stating to know the prices, so it really upsets me when locals ignore that. Anyhow, we make it to the main bus terminal. Another hour of waiting and negotiation. We say farewell to each other. They head northwest, I head east. Long story short, 4 hours later, I am in the gorgeous hillside town of Senaru, I have a room, and a booked trek for the next morning. Three days and no sleep. I am getting the hang of it. So I just take a shower and go out to walk around town and the nearby jungle. Gorgeous place!

Finally, bed time. My first real night of sleep in four days!

Next morning, up and ready to go at 7am. 3 days, 2 nights, and to the summit of mount Rinjani.

Quickly I realize that the trek I signed up for was a scam. We are not 5 or 6, but 12! Our guide barely knows English, and doesn't not know a single fact about the site of the mountains. (If you ever want to climb this volcano, DO NOT use Rinjani Lombok Trekking!!!)

Oh well, am there now, so might as well go with it. Our group has four French, 2 polish girls, one Belgium couple, 2 German guys, one Israeli guy, one Spanish woman. The ambiance is very good. Great companionship between all of us right away. I also soon realize that I am by far the second oldest guy in the group. (Seems to be a trend during my trip thus far).

On the first day, and at our second stop, the craziest randomness happened. A free of us are swatting under this wooden shed, getting some rest and shade. And there, I see, under the same shed, a silhouette that looks very familiar. Ha! Yup, Nick, who i trekked in Bukit Lawang with, two months ago in Sumatra. I was so happy to see him. Sumatra, like Sulawesi bring back so many amazing memories.
Sad though, but Nick and his girl were climbing down, and not up like us. So it was just a very quick catch up and mini reunion, before saying goodbyes again. But it made me smile for the rest of the day. Sumatra felt so far behind already. :0(

Throughout the first and second day of trekking, and as we were climbing up and up, to 2,700 meters, the more fit of the Germans and myself kept on challenging each other. Good fun. We even decided to run for a good chunk of the way, not even sure how I managed to do this. The path was so crazy steep and slippery. But we ran it as if racing.

And wait for it...(as Barney would say. Lol) the 2nd best part is...this German, Fabian...well, not only is he 22 years old, but he is also special forces German mountaineering army. Ha! Way to make me feel better about my shape and fitness. I was so blown away when he told me. Yay me! :-)  :-). :-)

The second night, the temperature was not higher than 8 degrees Celsius. We get up at 2 am, and start the last 1,000 meters to the summit. 3 hours of absolute hell. The more I climbed, the colder it got. There was no trail. Just a gigantic vertical wall made of thick sand and moving rocks.

Thank god it was the full moon, so the whole landscape was partially lit, just enough to reveal the way, and the mysterious grandness of the beast I was climbing.

The oxygen was no problem at all. Rather the cold, unstable ground, and night light were what was making it so hard. I really thought I was going to give up 300 meters a way from the top. But the power of the brain is magical. And more importantly, learning that everyone has a different pace, and that OK. By 5 am I was at the summit...one hour of wait in the very windy freezing cold. I was the 5th person to make it that morning, despite the fact that numerous trekkers left a good hour before us.

And well, when the sun woke up and showed the tip of its nose, though below my expectations, it was still quite a spectacle.
Here I was, at 3,726 meters above sea level, watching the sun cover the whole valley with its blanket of light and warmth. So much so that on the inside of the crater and to the horizon, there appeared a gigantic mountain we hadn't seen before. What made this magical was that the mountain was actually no mountain, but rather the shadow of the summit we were on, being projected on the opposite side of the sun and the entire lake and landscape of mountains spreading on the horizon.

There again, despite the very annoying calls from our pseudo guide to follow him and start climbing down, Fabian and I decided to stay up there for another good 40 minutes to wait for most of the tourists to be gone.

Some other local trekkers did the same thing. Them being way more prepared than us, they had food, thermos, coffee...so they invited us to share their food and hot beverage with them. Gosh, so well appreciated. We were all so freezing still.

But then, Fabian and I got up, feeling a bit note warm and ready to hit the climb down. Only little detail of major importance, we decided to run it all the way down and arrive at camp before our group.

Wow!!!!! I would never, ever have dared doing this on my own. Not even in my dreams. The wall was so steep and slippery. Ha! Well, too late, Fabian has launched...so I follow. Every single climber on their way down looks at us like we are crazy, as we speed and slalom between climbers and rocks, trying to stay on our feet and not fall from either side of the crater's cliffs.

40 minutes later, we pass our whole group, 10 meters before camp. Yayyyyyyyyy!!! I might have screws in my knee, no cartilage in my ankle, and inflames discs, but I am still in hell of a good shape. Well, at least inside. Lol

Then, like every time during a meal, I get mad at the guide as once more he is throwing all the rubbish into the mountain, all plastic.
I omitted to mention earlier that though the overall landscape of mount Rinjani is gorgeous, when looking at your feet rather than at the mountains, the site is the worst garbage bump I have ever seen in Indonesia so far. It made me sick when I saw that. And then, when I saw that our guide was just one of the many loitering criminal, it made me feel even worse.

Anyway, when we finally made it back to the trekking center (Rinjani Lombok Trekking), the owner waits for all the foreigners to be gone to take me aside with all his staff, and stats threatening to kill me. Pushing me backward with his chest. You know that feeling she you really want to react and argue because you know you are right, yet, you know even more that you are in a part of the world where you could very well disappear and no one would notice. A part of the world where locals so greedy and desperate for money would not hesitate to just beat you up, which in this case, no one else but him and his staff could see me. We were standing in the back of his secluded center.
Well, he knew I first had to go to get cash at the ATM to pay him for the trek before he could do anything to me. And I very well knew where to go for the cash. There was no ATM in town, only another trekking center that allows to withdraw cash for a small commission. So he pushes me on to a scooter with his driver to go get the cas.

I finally get a few blocks up, at Rudy's. Fantastic local entrepreneur who immediately offered to help and take care of me when I told him what had happened. Thank god he was there, because no other local nor tourists reacted. So strange and frightening. Reminded me of so many similar scenes in Marrakesh, especially when Fred got assaulted and the French consul just turn their back to us. Shame!

Rudy offered me diner, breakfast the neat day and even a free ride to Mataram where I was to take a 24 hour bus/ferry ride to Flores.

Lombok, though quite a beautiful island, is definitely a place I wish I had skipped altogether. That would have given me more days in Flores to venture eastward.

Strangely enough, after this, all I wanted to do was to get away from Lombok, and a 24 hour ride to Flores didn't even scare me a little.

The ride from Mataram, Lokmbok, to Bima, Sumbawa went by super fast despite its 12 hours. On the ferry connecting Lombok to Sumbawa I made a very nice encounter.

I went to sit down on the floor of the upper deck, hoping to get some fresh air, see the scenery, and get some peace. After all it was the sunset and I had had a few very long and exhausting days.

But soon after I sit down, I see the usual scene happening: a young local, looking very casual sits next to me and starts trying to make conversation in English. Gosh, can't I just be left in peace for a bit please!?

So I try to be nice and play the game. But this guy is well educated. He is very nice, and doesn't ask the typical basic questions. I see some depth. So OK, I go on. We keep chit chatting. His name is Alan, he is actually a motivational speaker, here in Indonesia. Married with two kids. He has a very creative house. So we end up chatting the entire duration of the ferry. He buys me coffee even. He was headed to Bima for a presentation the next morning. But in a different bus than mine.
The ferry arrives, we exchange numbers, as usual, and say good bye.

4am, I arrive at the bus terminal in Bima. The terminal is more like a street day market reconverted in a night bus terminal. I get off the bus, and Alan is there, making sure I am OK, since I am the only foreigner around. Very nice to see a familiar face in the darkness of the night and in the middle of nowhere. We say goodbye again. He was away and I am told to get into another bus, back there in the totally pitch black darkness under a concrete roof. Hmmm...sketchy..but Alan said it was OK just before. So I go and get in that bus. No driver. Just people laying down across the seats sleeping and waiting...for what, I don't know.

So I do the same...I wait, in the dark, naively thinking to myself "it's OK, 5 more minutes and we go, for sure"...like this for 1.5 hours.
It is 5:30am when the bus finally departs...direction Sape, the harbour town to catch the 6 hour ferry to Labuanbajo, Flores.

One hour of amazing driving through the hills of east Sumbawa. Amazing sights well worth the wait!

Two hours wait at the while watching some goats eat the rubbish laying all over. Then off to 6 hours of very long boat ferry to Labuanbajo.

Flores, at last!!!  :0)

Labuanbajo very much reminded me of Semporna, in east Borneo. Loads of dive shops and restaurants. Though LB smells a lot better and has much nicer views over the ocean.

I followed Fede's advice and quickly found Flores Diving Center. Italian owners. Very welcoming and fun. I sign up and get a cheap room there. (Well, actually, the first night, no room available, so I get a mattress on the living room floor. Free!)

For the next three days, I dive three times a day. The first day we dive with mantas. And for the specialists, we even dove with two black mantas!!!! What a spectacle. Chantal, you were so right!!! Way worth the trip. The last day, cherry on the cake, three of the most unbelievable dive sites I have ever seen, aside from sipadan. Incredibly strong currents, cold waters, but tons of sharks and other ginormousa fish. So many that we can barely see through them. Wow! What an amazing way to end my short time in Flores.

To get to Bali, I chose the 3 nights 4 days boat option, thinking I will be able to relax and enjoy the peacefulness of the seas. Yeah right! I definitely do not recommend this option. Waste of 4 precious days. Oh well, bow I know.

You might notice that my post from after I left Java until now is nothing as joyful and inspired as before. Well, that is simply because it is reflecting my time traveling through between Java and Flores.

Experiences are all relative and subjective. Well, let's just say that it hasn't been the best way to end my 4 months journey through Indonesia.

Tonight as well, as I am finishing this post...

After arriving in Padangbai, Bali, my ferry was 3 hours late due to very bad sea conditions. So I missed all the boats to Lembongan, where I was supposed to spend the evening with Janice, and then dive with her tomorrow to hopefully see the famous sunfish, or Mola Mola. Bummer! No more boats from Padangbai. So I decide to head to Sanur, much closer to Lembongan and see there if I have better luck, or at least catch the very first boat in the morning. Ha! No more buses going to Sanur anymore. It is night time. And all the other options are charging ridiculous amounts of money. I guess they know how bad I need to get to Sanur, so they crank up the price. (It is about 1.5 hour ride) so i decide to start walking and try my luck at hitch hiking.

This had nothing to do with pride or even bring cheap. Spending $40 for such a short ride when the normal price is around $2 is just ridiculous and out of my budget.

I walked for a good hour when finally a big truck picks me up. Yay!
Well, it so happened that I fell on the slowest truck of the traffic that night. And because his load was very he's u and his truck in bad conditions, we had to make several stops to let the wheels cool down a bit. Ufff...welcome to an evening in the life of Balinese truck drivers.

I felt terrible because I knew that Janice was waiting for me in Lembongan, but the experience was quite interesting nonetheless.
The driver's name was Rocky. He was Hindu, 31 yrs old, married with three kids.
It's always funny to see people's reaction when they hear I am traveling alone. But it is so challenging to explain why I am not married because I haven't found the right one yet, and the fact that I don't have a job but am just traveling. So now, I have decided that my job back home is photographer, and that I am not married because back home, a wife is to expensive. They buy it and don't ask to many questions. Lol makes the interaction a lot simpler and more about them than about me.  Hehe! :-)

I finally got to Senur, at 9pm. I am dead tired, super frustrated, and upset about the whole day. Hopefully Janice will forgive me.

I ask around for boats to Lembongan, charter. The prices I get for 6am (the actual first official boat only departs at 8:30am) are around $300, for only 30 minute ride!!!!!! Seriously! I miss Sulawesi and Sumatra so Mich. You have no idea. Things were so much simpler, and so much less just about the money and trying to rip foreigners off as much as possible. I actually look forward to leaving Indonesia now.

I know that if I am ever to come back to this country, it will be to go to Sulawesi, Sumatra, Papua, or Java. But no way to come back to Bali, or Nusa Tenggara. At least that's my experience.

So now, given how late it is, and my hope to still negotiate a decent price at 6am for a fisherman's boat to Lembongan, I am laying down on a pile of rocks, right in front of where the fisherman's boats are docked. My alarm clock is set to 6am. I know it will be yet another long sleepless night.

It's strange. I think all backpackers hit a sort of rough patch at some point of their trip, where everything seems/feels gray. For me, after being on the road for 5 months, traveling solo, I think this rough patch is now. But it's OK, happiness is a decision. So I will spend the night working on deciding that everything is fine and that I am rather lucky to be where I am at. :-)

I think that meeting new travelers and doing a chunk of the road together will help quite much.

Burma here I come...October 9th! :-)

OK, time to post this on my blog now. It is midnight here.

My dear friends all around the world, I miss you.

Sweet dreams in your comfy beds. ;0)

Nirvana sunrise over Borobudur...

Beep beep beep...

I open one eye, it's still pitch black outside. It's 4 in the morning of September 11th. My alarm just went off. Today, no way to hit the snooze button, i stop it, jump out of bed, head to the bathroom, brush my teeth, quick morning pipi. I wash my hands and my face. Put on short, T-shirt, hoodie, sandals and head lamp. Pick up my bag, and out the door.

It's 4:13 in the morning. I lock my hostel bungalow and jump on my rental bicycle. Though it is quite chilly at such early hour, the pedaling quickly warms me up. I'm now actually sweating. Ufff...and yet, still another 20 minutes to go.

As I am passing through little villages on the surrounding of the world heritage Borobudur Buddhist temple, the deeper I go the less street lighting. After 10 minutes, I am in total darkness. The myriad is bright stars and the half smiling crescent of the moon are just about the only lights at sight. Not enough to guide my way through the rough dirt path of the farm land I am going through. I suddenly arrive at an open space...fields of tobacco spreading around for acres. I was here yesterday afternoon, and very well remember that right above my right shoulder is the gigantic temple of Borobudur which I would be able to see easily on the horizon and atop the hill. I look up. Too early. The temple is still asleep, and waiting for the sun to give it the signal to raise. I keep pedaling. Almost there. At the end of the path, and across the little mosque, I make a right.

A much more narrow path lays before me now. Thank god I have my head lamp!

I keep going. It's getting steeper and steeper. A few more drops of sweat...am there. The ticket counter. Yes, it seems that Indonesians manage to exert profit from just about anything that tourists will do or go to.

I lock my bike against a tree. We are now in the jungle.

I pay my foreigner's fee. 30,000 Rupiahs. About USD$3.

Between the cold, the night, and the pedaling, I am now drenched in sweat.

I start hiking an even steeper dry mud path. Half steps, half uneven path. Through the woods. Turning right, turning left.

When will I get there? It's now 4:35am. Please Mr Sun, wait a bit more. I can't miss a single second of your awakening.

4:50am. Finally, I reached the top.

I thought I was going to be the first and only one.

A group of locals is already here. They are loud. Just like all the local tourists. Disrespectful of the peace of others. Oh well...

I sit down on the edge of the mountain, overlooking what seems to be a gigantic valley of palm trees, bamboos, and little traditional huts. All this, overlooked by its majesty Borobudur's temple and two high volcanoes.

Not a single cloud.

The whole landscape is under the protection of the immensity of the sky and its gazillions of shiny stars. It's already magical and the spectacle has not even started.

Slowly, more and more tourists start to immerge and gather around me. Bummer...I really naively thought no one else would have the same idea. Naive indeed....

It's a bit after 5... The show is about to start.

Every single mosque in the valleys is singing the first call to prayer, almost as if they were also praising the spectacle about to begin. For several minutes, the whole valley is in sync, giving the impression to be thousands of years back in times.

All of a sudden, it's happening, the dimmer is being turned very slowly. The light is peeking through the horizon, behind the main volcano, Mount Merapi.

It doesn't take me long to understand why this place is called the nirvana sunrise viewpoint.

Wow! Though the local tourists are still disrespectfully as loud as before, the foreign tourists and myself are in awe, speechless...and trying to play with the settings of our cameras to get the right aperture and right exposure to capture the photo that will capture this moment as best as possible.

The spectacle continues. And now the best part.

As the sun is rising and slowly showing its glorious face, we are witnessing the second act. Because of the vegetation, the humidity and the cold or the night, the whole valley is waking up layered with thick white fog or morning dew. This is giving to the landscape a feeling of far away and ancient oriental mysteriousness.

The whole valley seems to be trying to yawn and unfold its palm trees to liberate itself from a giant cotton veil. Magical!

And the spectacle goes on until the sun is way up and the dew is evaporating up towards the sky and off the ground.

It's now 5:45 am. Every one is gone, either to make it to the 6 am Borobudur temple opening time, or to catch their bus to Jakarta or Jogjakarta. I a, the only left, aside from a couple of old farmers who are delaying the moment they will walk down the hill to get to their daily farming chores. The sun is high up, it is getting uncomfortably hot, and the light is blinding. Squads of swallow birds play with the sun rays around the high trees above my head. I close my eyes and breath in as much of the sun's energy as I can. It feels good and rejuvenating.
I'm ready...too hot to stay here anyway.

The farmers are gone.

I get up and hike back down to where I parked my bike.

Gosh, what a magical way to start a day. The locals don't realize how privileged they are to be able to witness this spectacle every single day, and each day with its own variations.

UNESCO has classified the Borobudur temple a world heritage monument, while the true treasure of the site is the Nirvana sun rise spectacle.

Hello again Indonesia!

Today is September 11th 2013. It is 5pm. I am in Jogjakarta, in a student dorms, hosted by a young couch surfer named Paul.

Ha! Such a good feeling to be back on the Indonesian land.
I landed in Jakarta on September 7th.

There, I got hosted by an amazing host, Janice, who is friend of Marylin from AU. I couldn't have been in better hands. Well, not only does Janice work for USAID and so has such interesting projects and initiatives to talk about, she is incredibly well traveled, but also a great cook! So yes, I got spoiled again. :-)
My first evening in Jakarta, we went to a Georgian Supra diner at some US embassy people's house. Wow! What a night filled with super conversations, delicious Georgian foods and wines, and amazingly well traveled and cultured people.
The following day, a rather lazy day, was all eating and chatting about life and work. So inspiring and motivating. Janice, your life/job rocks! Marylin, your friends rock!

So after a 9 hour train ride which left at 7am from Jakarta, I finally made it to the mysterious-sounding city of Borobudur.

And there guess what?! My luck again.

I had connected with a couch surfer named Dina to find out about where to stay for cheap and what to do in the town. Well, Dina, aside from being super well traveled, a very experiences scuba diver, and speaking English as well as I do, she also happens to be the UNESCO manager of a project aiming at developing and promoting tourism in the Borobudur area. Ha! Could it Ge any better?!

So I got a long description of the best places to dive in the country, a full speech about the area, its history, resources, challenges, and so forth. Dina even took me to all the nicest places for sunset, delicious foods, and artisans villages. What luck I got! She even took me to a all mushroom restaurant. Wow! Unbelievable mushroom sate, just as if it was chicken sate, but with mushroom. A pallet firework!

I must say though, that while Borobudur's site entrance fee is higher  than that of Le Louvre, yet in all honesty, the site does not compare even close to what Le Louvre has to offer. However, when visiting some little side museums about the history of the temple, and when realizing all the work that has been done to restore the monument to what it is today, I am speechless of respect for the people who did such work.

Around 25 million tourists visit the monument each year. Multiply that by $20 and you get $500 million. This is a huge amount of money which we don't seem to see being reinvested at al in the development of the site of the town. And yet, you can see that the villagers are close to the poverty line, and fully rely on souvenirs sold to tourists on the side of the street to survive. Sad...so much profit made and all pocketed by some rich individuals in Jakarta.

Overall, the Borobudur region is under rated by tourists. The monument is far from being the only thing interesting to see there, and you absolutely don't need to have loads of money a ne stay at those $800 per night ultra luxurious hotels yo have a magical there.
Just make sure to give a call to Dina, and she will be the best of hostess.

Selamat jalan!

5 weeks later...Malaysia, Thailand, France, Canada...

Today is September 4th, it is 11am in Bangkok. I am sitting at Franck and Delia's computer, in their house in Bang Na.

I cannot believe 5 weeks have already gone by since I last posted an entry on my blog! Time does fly and at a crazy speed!

It is indeed about 5 weeks ago that I departed from Indonesia...with quite a pinch in my heart. Indonesia was simply amazing. 

I have travelled quite a lot thus far in my life and I have been to quite numerous countries, each more amazing than others. But after spending these three months in Indonesia, I can only reinforce the fact that it is not how many countries you visit, or how many "amazing-sounding" countries you visit that will make the time you will spend in each country amazing, but rather how much time you spend in each country, and how much effort you put in trying to see as many aspects of the culture of each country. By amazing I mean fulfilled on multiple levels: culture, education, adventure, soul, spirit, relationships, human interactions, challenges, joys, etc...

Off course, I would never dared saying that I know a country, no matter how long I stay in a country. But I can definitely say that I have a much better and deeper understanding of a country the longer I stay in it, and the deeper I dig into its culture.

So yes, those first three months in Indonesia have allowed me to dig quite deep into its culture and grow personally on so many levels.

To this day, I am still amazed at how well and peacefully Christians and Muslims manage to live and cohabit together. To some extent, Canada is the only other place I have seen that can pretend to doing so as well. Simply admirable. It just goes to show that YES, it is possible to have two drastically different religions share the same land without any conflict. France, Egypt, Israel/Palestine...learn! Indonesia might not be as developed as you nor economically strong as you, but they sure have a lot they can teach you in terms of inclusion and acceptance of everyone's differences.

When I was in Indonesia, I caught myself thinking a various occasions: they say that Indonesia is not that touristy at all, but they must be blind. This place is filled with tourists everywhere!

Ha! Well, so I thought. You should have seen my face when I crossed over the border and landed in Malaysia. My two destinations on mainland Malaysia were Penang (to check out the famous culinary reputation of the place) and the Perhentian islands (to check out the world renown dive sites and gorgeous islands).

Hahahahahahaha! I am still laughing about it when I think back at how shocked I was when arriving in each place.

Penang: where the hell are the locals???!!! Impression of Penang's population breakdown: 20% Chinese, 20% Indians, 30% backpackers, 20% white retirees, 10% Malays. Just unbelievable. And what does the city have to offer? yes, numerous food stalls with above average quality. But thats about it. If it wasn't for the street artists contracted a few years ago to spice up the walls and streets of the city, I am not sure really why travelers or even white retirees give it so much credit and importance. Anyhow...that is my opinion. But go see for yourself, then we will compare notes. This being said, I am not saying at all that I had a bad time there.

Two interesting things that happened in Penang though:

1) I couchsurfed at the apartment of an Indian called Ram. We walked around the city and its many Hindu temples, and though he is Hindu himself, I remember him telling me that he did not really know the meaning of everything that's happening in a temple, as he was simply following his family's faith and religion without really ever trying to understand everything behind it.

2) I met a young Chinese traveller, Charles, who, to my big surprise, was the very first person I had met on my trip who told me when I asked him his religion: I believe in myself. The exact same answer I have been giving to people asking me this questions thus far. So interesting. Chinese usually tend to seriously follow their family's and ancestors' cultures and religions without a doubt nor questioning. Not Charles. 

Perhentian Islands: are you serious?! everything (except the diving) is at least twice more expensive than anywhere else I have been on my trip so far. There were so many tourists on the beaches of the island that it felt like the beaches of the French Riviera during the Cannes Film Festival, or even better, the beaches on south beach during memorial day weekend. Wow! I was so stunned that I wanted to take off the moment I laid foot on the sand. But hey, I figured I would give the island a chance. This place is so touristy that the locals have grown a sort of negative feeling and behavior towards the tourists. We can see a similar phenomenon in Marrakech nowadays (for those who know Marrakech quite well), simply due to the fact that tourists have invaded the place thinking they were the kings of the world and allowing themselves to treat and disrespect the locals constantly. In any case, I thus decided to focus my stay there on my diving skills rather than my social interaction skills. So I went diving everyday for a week. I improved my skills a lot and had a great time every day with the crew of Spice Divers. Ha, thank God Sha was there! :o)

But as I have been telling everyone I have talked to since then, I was more than anything shocked by the concrete cultural difference between Malays and Indonesians, when it comes to human interactions with foreigners. While the Indonesians will be super open, curious, welcoming, and smiling, Malays will be cold, mean, closed, and unwelcoming. I realize I am basing this observation on two very touristy mainland sites in Malaysia, as Borneo was not that similar. Yet, if you recall, when I crossed the border between Tawau and Tarakan on Borneo, I made quite a similar comment on my blog.

So after these 10 days in mainland Malaysia, I walked and crossed the border between Malaysia and Thailand. There again, quite different. The Thais were right away so welcoming.

I knew there was a train going from the south tip of Thailand all the way to Bangkok. According to the internet, the ride was between 10 and 15 hours, a walk in the park. So I went ahead, and got myself the cheapest ticket I could. Something like the equivalent of $12 I believe. When I read the ticket it did indeed say something like Departure time @ 11:00, Arrival time @ 10:00. Ha! Perfect! Just 11 hours. Easy breezy! Ha! Surprise!!!!!!!! the 10:00 was not PM, but actually AM...the next day! This still does not sound all that bad...23 hours in a train...ok...well...until I saw the train facilities. I wont say more. Remember, I bought the cheapest ticket they had. That should be enough for your imagination to do the rest. The magical part of this train ride though (yes, there was a magical part. Yes, thats me, I try to find beauty and positiveness in everything, no matter what!) was that I was sitting in a compartment with 95% Muslims (so I guess mostly Malays and barely any Thais). And watching them pray 5 times a day (at least the most committed ones) but also break their fast as the train is speeding through the sunset and the rice fields, was just amazing. There, just like in that mini van in Medan, I could witness a concrete sense of religious community. And it was beautiful.

So I finally arrived in Bangkok...exhausted, disgusting, and quite starving (all I had on board the train was a whole loaf of whole wheat bred, and a few Kopikos).

Bangkok was nothing like when I visited it with my family in the late 90's. What a change! How modern and CLEAN!!!

Anyhow, I managed to zip through the train station and subway station as if I had been living here all my life. Delia's directions were so clear and easy to follow.  :o)

In BKK I had planned to stay with my good friends I made back in Kuching, Franck and Delia, from South Africa but who have been living in BKK for the past 10 years, and who are both kindergarden teachers in a Thai school.

Well, my following week in BKK was just phenomenal. Delia and Franck, as well as their best friends and south african neighbors Thea and Lourens, gave me the best welcome, and were the most amazing hosts. The four of them live in a building a bit like in Friend's, the US sitcom. It totally made me want to have a similar lifestyle later on in life. Sebastian & Alma, let's make this happen!!!  jeje!
I had always been curious about teaching and more so, teaching kids. So I decided to shadow Franck, Delia, Thea, Lourens, and a few other teachers each and every day for the whole week. Wow! I would never have thought that teaching English to Thai K1-3 could be so challenging, yet so much fun at the same time. Note that the school who only teaches kindergarden has about 1,000 kids!

Oh, and other highlights of my week in Bangnania (as they call it) was that every wednesday evening, my hosts (F&D&T&L) organize a ping pong (rather table tennis, as in BKK< ping pong can be understand for something else. lol) evening. Ha! God knows I LOVE ping pong! And on thursday afternoon, park time for some unicycle training. Looks a lot simpler than it actually is. And well, cherry on the cake...Delia's and Thea's cooking. yummmmmmmy!!!!!!!

I must say that between their cooking, my mom's cooking the next week in France, and Alma's cooking the week after that in Toronto, I got quite spoiled for the rest of my trip. Thank you Mesdames.  :o)

So a week later, I departed, late at night, for the airport, direction Nice, France. Home sweet home...to see my lil niece, Lola. What a treat. Gosh, she was so small and adorable. A croquer!!!!!

Being home was quite word I must say. Since my parents moved to Morocco, the house is empty. No furniture. No hot water (our hot water was not electricity based). Our fridge had even broken down. In other words, and to an extent, the conditions were not all that different from the rest of my trip. haha! I said to some extent!

It was great to see my family and catch up. Yet, living so far away for many years now, there is only so much we can catch up on. Sad truth of such circumstance. I tried to enjoy Lola as much as possible, when she was not sleeping. I had brought her back from Indonesia a typical swing, like they use all over there, in markets, in the streets, at home...not knowing how effective it would be. Wow! It worked like a charm. Put her in there, pull a bit on the spring, and she snoozes right away. :o) Made me happy that I could bring something useful.

For some personal reasons though, being at home in France is never as pleasant as being at home in Morocco. Both my parents and sister share this feeling I believe. It is just that we have been trying to sell the house in France for so many years now, and no success so far. So now it has become more of a burden (financial and maintenance wise) than anything. So every time I go back I always have that bitter feeling in my guts.

I was shocked though to see how the south of france has changed. So much concrete has taken over the what used to be magnificent eucalyptus, mimosa, and rose hills years ago. As you drive through the villages it screams so loudly how corrupted the mayors are and how they are purely dedicated to making big bucks rather than preserving the authenticity that has made the south of france or provence so famous in the past. 

The week I spent with my family went by as if it were only 2 days. Unbelievable! I barely got to do anything while at home. It almost feels like I barely got to see my family. 

My flight from France to Toronto departed from Paris. So I decided to spend 48 hours before my flight with my super duper good friends Alex & Fio. I just cant manage to spend a whole year without seeing them at least once. Thats just the way it is.  :o)  This little weekend allowed me to not only spend some good quality time with them and discover another part of France I didn't know: Tour and its surrounding. Magnificent area!

Toronto! Ah Toronto! I just love this city. Especially at this time a year. The vibe exuding from every neighborhood is just magical. I just love it. I hadn't seen my friends in such a long time. I can say that still today, my heart is in Toronto.

It was long overdue that I hang out with Sebastian and Alma, like we used to when I was living in Toronto. If only Juana had been there. Those days were golden. We even managed to go for long bike rides through the city and the parks like we used to before. Toronto on a bicycle is even more magical. Riding through the streets and parks gives you such a strong feeling of belonging.

I wont get into any details, but Tequilazo did hit again, and quite hard this time. jajaja!

I did spend a good 3 full days, from early morning to late afternoon, sitting at the Second Cup under Scotia Plaza, taking coffee after coffee, and tea after tea, catching up with people, back to back. I did make quite a few friends friends while working at Scotiabank, and to this day I still treasure these friendships. I am really grateful for having the friends I have. Really!

During Carlos' wedding (Carlos and Vanessa, I wish you all the happiness in the world. You both looked so happy on your wedding day, it was so moving and inspiring. Stay true to who you are, always. And dont forget: forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive...lol), Juan, his brother said something that really hit home. I knew of it before, but I guess I never got fully really aware and conscious of it: when you live so far away from your family, your friends become your new family. And yes, indeed. At that moment, I understood why the feelings I have had for my friends are just beyond simple friendship, but are more of brotherhood, sisterhood, fatherhood, motherhood, depending on the role each friend plays in my life. This does not mean at all that my family is less important than my friends. Not at all. It just explains how I can manage to compensate for the lack of the presence of my family in my day to day life, and also why the older I get, the more I feel the need to live closer to my friends than I used to in the past.

Seeing my friends and catching up with them after having been away for so long since I moved from Toronto to Miami only made me realize even more how much I miss them.

And seeing everyone with their partner, and/or their baby made me realize even more how single I am. sad. Not as I wasn't aware of it before. lol No. It's just that having a family of my own has always been so important in my heart, yet for a while, until until now, I think I had put it aside unconsciously. But this time, seeing everyone so happy and fulfilled woke up that feeling of emptiness in me. That craving for having my own family. Yes, I know...quite contradictory with my current endeavor. I realize that. 

I used to be way to idealistic when it comes to romance and relationships. I think this trip has helped me see clearer in that area. Not necessarily because of what has happened during this trip, but rather because of how much thinking I have put into this topic since I left Miami. I am now undoubtably convinced that Love is a matter of decision. One decides to love and make a relationship work. It doesn't just happen magically. You meet someone with whom everything works fantastically well, then you have to decide whether you will love that person for the rest of your life and whether you want to do everything you can to make this relationship work and sustain. It wont just happen. No way. Therefore, as a consequence of this, I do also believe that there is no such thing as "the one" anymore. You decide to make your partner "the one". 

While this might not seem like a big thing to most people I know, for those who really know me, this is a MAJOR shift for me. MAJOR! And it is such a relief to have made this "discovery".  So yes, this trip thus far has been quite productive for me. This is not the only thing that has resulted from the trip, off course, but I am still trying to fully grasp the rest. Work in progress.

It's strange...seeing all my friends, and how happy they were with their partner and or baby, their job, their house/condo, and their daily life kind of made me envious. Very envious actually. What else can one want from life? (They are all quite well travelled already) But at the same time, when I think back, all of them seemed quite envious of the life I am having right now. Ha! Are we ever happy with what we have in life? Is the grass always greener on the other side? Is there a middle ground? The more I think about it and the more I think it all has to do with your dreams. We should have a clear idea or list of what our dreams are, with some sort of order of priority. And we should spend our time/life striving to accomplish those dreams. Dreams should not just be dreams, but rather goals. Some might take longer to reach than others. But when we really want something badly enough, there is no reason why it should not work. I strongly believe that the lack of trying is the first mistake people make. Funny enough, I saw a poster in the street yesterday in some random part of BKK that said: Give 100%, Live 100%. So right on!

I am now in Bangkok, mostly to get my visa to Burma (which I got yesterday) and my visa to India (which I hope to get by friday) before I depart to Indonesia on saturday, but also to spend more time with Franck and Delia who are very devote Born Again Christians. So far it has been quite an interactive and interesting few days of very deep conversations about religion and faith, while, coincidentally enough, I am reading at the same time the last novel of Jose Rodriguez dos Santos. So stay tuned...the week is not over yet, and I prefer to wait more before commenting on it.  
But I remember of one diner time last year, at Sonja's house in Woodbury, with her little monkeys, her mom and Dulip, and Sonja reading my horoscope for the year to come. It said at some point that that year would be a very spiritual year for me. Well...yeah! I believe it is indeed.  :o)

Oh, and I gathered my favorite photos of my trip so far into one album, in which I finally put a comment under each photo. I also finally bought a new camera (Canon G15), so my photos will finally show better quality, at least that's the goal. :-)

Stay tuned for more insight in my life and thoughts.