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)
