Day 39-40: Sibu, Bus Stations, and Kuching

I know it's a bit premature. I know I have many more to go. I know I've just got to get better at it.

I hate waiting for buses & bus stations. I'll explain in a bit.

We arrived in Sibu, which is the Midwest of Sarawak. Literally, it is middle west in Malaysia Borneo. It's also right on the Rajang River, which is both a gateway for transportation into the Borneo tribal villages and for trade. They have these boats that we have read are called "flying coffins." I'd say its a pretty accurate representation. These coffins are flying off at all times and the ferry terminal is continuously chaotically active, and, given that its the equivalent of Thanksgiving weekend, its more so than usual.

Additionally, I believe every city has a sound. In New York and Delhi, its the sound of the car horn. In Chicago, its the sound of sirens. In Melbourne, its the sound of the tram bell. In Sibu, its the sound of poultry! Never have I seen so many different modes of poultry transport. Poultry wrapped in paper like fish & chips; poultry in traditional crates; poultry in plastic mesh carry on bags; poultry just roaming in the middle of the market; and poultry being carried in serious pet transportation devices. Poultry everywhere!

Summary thus far: Sibu = flying coffins & poultry.

We had expected more.

The original plan was to come to Sibu, chill for a bit, find a way to get to a tribal longhouses, and enjoy Gawai Dayak. We showed up in Sibu and immediately wanted to leave. The longhouses were a bit too expensive for us, poultry everywhere, etc. The place is not our cup of tea; hence the bus stations.

The public transportation runs from 6 a.m. until 5 p.m. Our bus to Kuching was meant to be at 8 p.m. and arrive at 3 a.m. We figured it'd be better to split the wait time. Now, its also getting to be the cusp of the monsoon season. Around 3 p.m., we saw the storm clouds coming, so we hustled to get to the bus station a bit early to avoid the clouds. Then our bus was delayed until 11:15 p.m. We had to kill 6 hours in a bus station! How? Here's just a small list:

* Walk around and see what is available to do
* Sit on a bench in the bus station and chat
* Find a place to sit and eat
* Change locations and find a place to sit and have a drink
* Ask the local bus station's branch of the hotel you stayed in the night before if you can sit in their air conditioned lobby and watch a movie
* Walk around again to see what is available to do, with great hope that you missed something amazing like public karaoke. Generally this is false hope.
* Sit on a bench and read articles if we have wi-fi access
* Stay seated, close to giving up hope of ever getting a bus, and try to play some games on any device we have that we aren't afraid is going to get stolen if we take it out
* Continue to stay seated in silence, all hope gone that the time will ever pass and the bus will come.

(You also have to understand that the day before when we were coming from Brunei, we had ended up waiting for about 5 hours at the bus station in Miri before we could take our overnight bus as well. Same level of chaos, same lack of entertainment, different day.)

When the bus to Kuching finally came and we got in, we both ended up freezing in over air conditioning despite having sweaters and a blanket to share between us! We finally were delivered, blue lips, goosebumps, and little sleep to the bus station in Kuching at 5:30. From there, we just needed to wait until 6:00 a.m. so we could take a public bus into the city. We went to leave the station post coffee at 6:05. It was 5 minutes too late. The storm had arrived! This storm was one of those great teasers - the kind where it continuously looks like the sun is fighting to pop through but never does. We said, well, we'll just wait. We've no plans today. Let's just wait a bit to see if the rain passes.

(See list above for things to do to entertain ourselves for the not 1...not 2.... not 3... not 4.....5 - that's right 5 hours we had to kill in the morning. Only this time do it on no sleep and fear of turning into the Wicked Witch of the West if rain so much as touched us).

Finally, at 11:00 a.m,, we caved and decided that we had at least until after we reached the bus stand across the road before we melted. We've gotta brave the rain and just get across the street to the bus!

Buses are great. They get you where you need to go. Good enough for the environment, etc. But seriously - I want it to be like Singapore airport .I want movie theatres. I want a VIP waiting room. I want entertainment! Too much to ask? Okay - maybe it is for just 50 MYR. Minor detail.

We arrived in Kuching and basically slept! Hopefully no more buses for a while. 

Day 38: Transit to Sibu, Malaysia

Brunei is nice, but man is it expensive! The Brunei $ is almost a 1 to 1 with Australia and you certainly don't get value for money when it comes to accommodation. We were happy to leave it, but sad to leave the rain forest.

I have actually never gone through a serious country border crossing by land. The last time I did a border crossing by land was going to Windsor in Canada, and that was when all you needed was a driver's license and not even a passport. That and they just got on the bus to make sure you were legit. This border crossing certainly took way more effort and it wasn't even a hard one! It was a simple stamp out, get on a bus, stamp in kind of thing. I am not looking forward to when we have to actually do a more serious one once we head up towards Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia.

We decided to tough it up and continue on from the bus stand in Miri and overnight bus it to Sibu. There is a major cultural festival that is happening right now in this state, Sarawak. They celebrate a festival called Gawai Dayak. Gawai Dayak is a huge indigenous tribe celebration that occurs starting on 31 May. The people get 2 public holidays following it. From what I can tell, its a bit like a Thanksgiving Harvest Festival. People all go home to be with their families. There is singing and dancing. There is cultural costumes and rituals. People have their weddings around this time.

I figured it would be cool to see. That's how we ended up here... I didn't realize it's a HUGE deal here. When we rocked up to the bus stand in Miri to get our tickets to Sibu, the market was in chaos. We got there at 6:00 and they only had a few tickets to the 9:30 p.m. buses - and those buses were extra buses. We were charged high season prices. Everybody is taking the Friday off so they can have a nice long 5 day weekend and try to get home. This is the Wednesday before Thanksgiving! I had no idea!

Of course, now we are a bit stuck in high season. We better see this darn festival. I don't care if its touristy or not. I want blowpipes (at least to try it out, as long as I don't end up like Elmer Fudd in a bad Looney Toons episode where he ends up swallowing it instead of blowing it). I want rice wine. I want to see longhouses. I want dances. I can't wait!

Let's see if we stay in Sibu or start making our way down to Kuching.

Day 37: Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei

Brunei is surprisingly different than its Malaysian Borneo neighbors, but it is really quite simple in terms of tourism. Let’s be honest: when you have oil money, do you really need tourism dollars? It has two fascinating elements:

• Sultan
• Kampong Ayer Water Village

Let’s start with the Sultan. Most people tell you to go on the water to go and see the Sultan’s palace. We decided that anybody could do that –we’re going to take the bus! Apparently nobody takes the bus. We asked our hotel, we asked the tourism office beneath us, and it was only the other bus driver we asked at the station who actually told us the right number. Did we see the Sultan’s palace from a better angle via the bus? Not really; however, anybody can see the palace; not everybody can see his driveway and his gate! The grounds are really quite incredible. From what we could see, one border of his property stretched at least 1-1.5 kms. As you walk along, you can see there is a freakin’ water park inside the palace gates. Why not? If I was Sultan and had some odd bazillion dollars and my grandkids wanted to go to a water park, I’d build them a water park. This ain’t no Duck Dynasty!

We then decided to go to the Royal Regalia museum. This museum shows just some of the trinkets that have been gifted to the Sultan over the years. By trinkets I mean gold stuff. As we looked at the various gifts, we judged the gifting countries just a little bit. I mean, who wants a photograph (ahem, Australia – bad gift!) when somebody else can gift you a replica of a some odd BC emperor’s terra cotta chariot (well played China, well played). However, it wasn’t just gifts that were there – they also had all of the Sultan’s coronation & 25^th Jubilee adornments as well. Now we are talking gold! Gold everywhere! Not only does he have the usual golden scepters, the golden hand to hold up his head during the ceremony, the golden spears, umbrellas, throne with tiger skins, gold embroidered clothing, etc; but he also has a man-powered, gold painted chariot that is used to pull him through the street afterwards. Plus his 24-36 nobles who follow him dressed in very specific attire, carrying very specific items (swords, shields, spears, weird golden box for bettle nuts) and having to walk on foot. Oh, did I mention there isn’t just one of these in this museum. Oh no – there are two! They built a second one just for his 25^th Jubilee. Why not?

Afterwards we decided not to go over to Kampong Ayer but rather just watch the water taxis go to it. Kampong Ayer is a 1000 year old stilt village. It is also the largest stilt village in the world. It is directly across from BSB, separated by a river. The water taxis must be able to spot my reflective white self from across the river, because we must have had at least 10 come up to us and ask if we were going to go over. It is really quite charming to look at, although we’ve read that the buildings are all modernized on the inside. Supposedly this village has its own mosque, fire brigade, school, etc. It’s probably one of the nicest things to actually see within Brunei.

It was 5 p.m. by the time we decided “Brunei – check.” The country is pretty amazing in both the Sultan’s wealth and its ability to survive. Not sure what the future holds for this country once the oil money runs out. Glad we came, but we are looking forward to heading back to Malaysia.

Day 34-36: Movies in KK & Transit to Brunei

We spent 2 days just relaxing in Kota Kinabalu (KK). The backpackers we were staying at was super comfy. They had a whole bunch of relatively new DVDs you could borrow. Local food was good. Plus we know we are going to Brunei next, which is going to be pretty hectic. As a result, we just chilled around.

We got to explore the Sunday Market and the Night Market in KK. The Sunday Market is fairly normal as far as street markets go. You have the usual bath soaps with breast milk (rose breast milk that is), frog purses, live turtles for sale (not sure whether they are for eating or for domestic pet purposes), honey comb with the bees still on it, and dried fish everywhere. Oh, and some fresh vegetables – just to keep you regular.

The Night Market was really similar to Labuan Bajo’s night market. Only this time, we were on our own to try to select our own fresh fish. We must have circled the place multiple times trying to remember what the Italian Thomas had told us in Labuan Bajo. Look for the clarity of the eyes. Check the gills and make sure they are pink. Round and round we went until finally we selected our very own white snapper. It was super yummy going down and it never came back up – so I’d call that a great 1^st selection by Sarah & Pallavi (mostly Pallavi).

We finally made our way over to Brunei. We’d heard Brunei really has little to do, but we figured, when are we ever going to be so close to Brunei as we are here on Borneo? We’d never go out of our way for it, so might as well go for 2 days in transit, see what there is to see, and get out of there. We took a series of ferries, had an easy enough customs experience, and got on the bus from the ferry into BSB (the name for the capital I can never remember).

This is what we had expected from Borneo. Rainforest everywhere! Brunei is such a funny little country. It had the foresight to preserve the rainforest, has a per capital GDP of $55K USD because of its oil wealth, and has sharia law. The best way I can describe Brunei is like rainforest meets Arab oil meets Asia. When you look around, you can see the wealth on the road and in the housing. You can see that the infrastructure is there.  The streets are super clear, with signs warning against the financial penalties of littering. Plus, as Pallavi hypothesizes, because they have a ruling Sultan, it looks like there is minimal corruption and stuff actually gets done.

We arrived in the afternoon, took a nap, and only made it out for the small Night Market (where all of the women in various stalls seemed to have a television set up and were captivated by some sort of Japanese soap opera. Not sure what was happening, but everybody, including the maid was crying, so it looked like a real tear jerker). Even the food names are slightly different.

We have only one full day tomorrow to explore Brunei. Here’s what I expect to see/experience:

·         A 1,000 year old stilt village

·         A boat ride on the ‘Venice of the East’ river

·         See the Sultan’s gold car. I will also accept an entire room filled with gold trinkets.

·         The Sultan’s palace

Day 33: Taxi 797 in Kota Kinabalu

The first thing that came to mind when we woke up was "we lost the ukulele!" Pallavi, eyes on the prize, determinedly said, let's go and find it!

Sarah: "Find it?! There are a bazillion cabs in this city. How to find it?"
Pallavi: "Well, let's go back to the intercity bus station where we arrived last night. Most taxi drivers have a certain spot, and let's go and see if they know who it is."
Sarah: "But how will you know which cab it is?"
Pallavi: "Don't you remember what the taxi driver looked like? He had a mustache, was of medium height, slightly frail, older, had gray hair and his back left door didn't shut properly." (No! I do not remember any of this! Did you not hear the story about the time I was a witness in a car accident and completely negated my grandmother's testimony because I'm a crap witness!)

So, Private Investigator Pallavi and me, the sidekick in the story normally used for either comedy relief or to help show how wise the PI actually is, went off to the bus station with this basic information to try to get our man.

We showed up at the station at 2 p.m., found a taxi driver who spoke English, who asked us all sorts of questions. Where did you go? What time did you arrive last night? What did the guy look like? Was he a big guy or a small guy? What did you lose? With each question, one more taxi driver came over into the conversation. All of them were talking to each other and you could clearly see they were trying to figure out who we were talking about, each of them gesturing with a small air guitar. By the end of this interrogation, we were marched over to the "manager" who looked into some book which appeared to be a record of all cabs, all routes, and he looked at us and said, right, this guy won't be here until 5 p.m., taxi number 797.

Slightly hopeful, we said, we'll wait. And we waited; And we had lunch; And we waited; And we walked around the mall; And we waited; And we sat at the bus stand; And we got a coffee; And we waited. Of all of the days when I didn't bring some sort of book to read! Finally, after what felt like an eternity of boredom, 5 p.m. came. Our driver didn't!

The English speaking taxi driver came over around 5:45 and said, he won't come until maybe 7 or 8. You can take a cab to his house and then into Koto Kinabalu for 30 MYR (~$10). We said, we don't want to go to Koto Kinabalu, so we'll pay 10 MYR to go the 2 kms to the guys house. It cost us 25 MYR to get to 7 kms into Kota Kinabalu. More than fair.

No takers. I started to get a little less hopeful. Plus, what if we'd gotten the description wrong! What if Pallavi's attention to detail had failed. What if she had made up that he had a mustache? What if we've been waiting for hours for the wrong man!

We waited another 45 minutes and finally, by 6:30, our English speaking taxi drivers came over and said, come on, I'll take you for 10 MYR. He drove us to the taxi driver's general area but didn't know where he lived. So we circled the apartment complex looking for a cab. We looked everywhere until finally, we spotted a cab - it was taxi number 797. But where did the taxi driver live? Our man called him up and we waited.

After 5 minutes, we saw a man with a mustache, who was of medium height, slightly frail, older. So maybe he didn't have grey hair, but he held in his hand, my ukulele!!!!!!!

Detective Pallavi solved the case! The ukulele was back in my hands and I swear I'll seriously learn to play it and never let it out of my sight again!

The End. By Sarah.

Day 32: Sakau & Orangutans!!!!!

After a night sleeping through the sounds of the jungle, our alarms and the roosters went off around 4:45 a.m. We got ready, had our coffees, knocked on the doors of the Germans who had insisted we go at 5:30 instead of 6 a.m. but who were still sleeping at 5:30, and at 6:00 a.m. got into the boat with Eagle Eyes for another river safari.

There are not nearly as many mammals to spot alongside the Kinabantangan River as I had though; however, there are tons of different birds. We spotted 4 different species of Hornbills (including some really rare white breasted one), 3 different types of King Fishers, Broad beaks, huge endangered Storks, some tiny bird that was smaller than two finger digits, etc. We saw 2 different species of monkeys. Then, Eagle Eyes spotted our first oranguntan!! I'm not sure what I expected, but this was beyond expectations. Unfortunately, one, this was a male and you only see males in isolation, not surrounded by a troop of orangutans and two, he was high up in the top of a fig tree eating breakfast. 

It was amazing to watch. He is basically a big orange hairy thing on the top of the tree. A bit like how I imagined Big Foot's hide to look. He just sat there, in a more refined way, reaching with his long arms to pluck various figs & eat them. Sometimes he'd walk out on a branch to get the ones that were on the farthest limbs and then retreat back to his tree chair. Once he was hidden from view all we saw was his long arm reaching out beyond the cover of the trees to pluck figs, and then disappear. 

Not only did we see this orangutan, but on our return journey, we saw our 2nd! I certainly have not had my fill of orangutans, but am still fascinated by them. We both want more! However, after our river safari, after much debate (and after the infamous Osman had a family emergency and wasn't taking people on his pygmy elephant safari), we decided lets just get out of dodge. We'll go to a (dare I say it) rehabilitation center, and hopefully we'll be able to see both orangutans and probiscis monkeys up close.

We trekked to town, found a car that would take us to 'The Junction' where lonely planet said we could stand by the side of the road and flag down a bus, packed up in 30 minutes, and went. The Junction is literally a tree-barren area by the side of a round about. My poor vampire skin can't take such intensity. Then I remembered something my friend Kim had given me. It was something that, upon leaving Melbourne, I had debated whether or not to bring with, and figured that although its slightly heavy, I'd carry it and see. It was a sun umbrella from China! Normally, I would have shied away from using it - white tourist who can't take it; however, I had seen some women using them in Sandakan a few days before. When in the jungle..... Out it came! Instant shade. It. was. amazing. Kim - THANK YOU! We took a picture, which we'll have to send you. This moment almost deserves an ode. 

Ode to the Shade Umbrella: 

Oh give me a home, where the sun mostly roams

Where the trees provide plenty of shade 

But when burning outside, sweating and unmade 

The sun umbrella provides plenty of shade

Okay - not my best. I'll work on it! But it deserves it! After standing there for an hour, we had no fewer than 5 people stop and ask us where we were going. Finally, a good Samaritan told us its hard to flag a bus here, he'd take us a bit down the road to a proper bus stand. We jumped in the car, and went about half the distance to Kota Kinabalu (our final destination). I swear, all we passed were palm trees for 200 kms. It was such a sad scene. I'm not a real protester or avoider of products, but seriously, no more palm oil. (Pallavi has since refused to eat Nestle ice-creams and says #SayNoToNestle). 

On the way, we had passed one bus going to Kota Kinabalu. Finally, we reached the last point the guy could take us, and we got off, had lunch, found the bus station, and waited for another hour and a half. When the luxury bus finally came, it was the same bus we had passed before!

We finally reached Kota Kinabalu, got a cab, got off near where backpackers are, only to realize that my ukulele had been left behind in the cab! That is how we learned about how easy it is to file an insurance report at the local police station and all about different cab companies. 

Such a up & down day. Loved the orangutans, but am absolutely exhausted and hot from the journey and a bit heartbroken about the ukulele. Hopefully we'll be able to find it tomorrow. 

Day 31: Sakau, Borneo

Today we head off into the jungle to try to see orangutans in the wild. Apparently the best place to see them is near a small village called Sakau, which is on the Kinabatangan River. Tragically, the reason why this is the best place to see them is because the palm oil plantations have deforested so much rain forest that its pushed the wildlife all towards the river. However, this small sliver of rain forest (literally the rainforest stretches along the river for kms, but is only 300 metres deep) is now protected, so off we go.

Lonely Planet is right in that, although you think you might need to book some sort of tour in order to go to the Kinabatangan River, you can do it on your own. It was easy enough to get transportation within the budget we'd expected to the village. However, nothing can prepare you for when we got there.

No sooner than we arrived in Sakau than I started to sweat and had 5 mosquito bites. Thank God for 80% deet. I don't care if its banned in Europe and you need to dispose of it in a plastic bag before putting it in the trash. The container doesn't say it'll give me some sort of disease. The chemist who sold it to me said it wouldn't give me cancer. I say no to dengue & lots of itching. Those mosquitoes can go and f-off!

I swear I'm channeling my Mom's citronella candles. If one candle is meant to give you a 5 ft radius of protection, than en entire seance of candles is clearly going to work even more effectively. My 80% Bushman's deet is my citronella candle seance. (PS - it 100% works. You can practically see mosquitoes die when they hit our protective deet wall.

We also needed accommodation. Sukau is a one street town, but nobody told me it was some odd 10 km street! We had our transport drop us at a backpackers closest to the town (still 1 km away), and Pallavi asked me to go up the road and check out prices. I walked, and walked, and walked, and checked, and walked, and checked, and sweated, and walked, and checked, and sweated. I should have just turned around. So stupid! 50 minutes and a minimum of 5 kms later, I returned and we stayed at this awesome homestay across the road from where we initially had been dropped off.

We asked Ezall, our homestay guide who spoke really great English, who we should go on our river safaris with. He said, I can tell you a lot of groups, but the key is to go with somebody who is good. There are two people I'd recommend. 1. Osman (who we'd heard about and notoriously takes people face to face with elephants and ignores there warning signals ((dangerous!!)) but who has taken David Attenbourgh out a few times and is very good). 2. Eagle Eyes. Alright, old Eagle Eyes it is!

We called him up and went on a night safari. Although we didn't see any night cats, Eagle Eyes spotted amazing colourful tropical birds, a crocodile!, probiocus monkeys, and an owl hunting in the river. Did you know that a crocodile's eyes glow white at night? It looks like a little light on the water. Pretty cool stuff!

Once we finished, we went to Sukau's local night market. It runs Thursday through Sunday. Quite a lot for a small village of 1K. Normally there is music and public karaoke but not tonight. Tonight the local Muslim Imam was speaking to a crowd seated in the square. What was he teaching them? He was talking to them about all the reason why NOT to join Al Qaeda and ISIL

As we sat around eating dinner, Ezall told us about the problems between Borneo & the Sulu people over in the Philippines. Less than 10 years ago, there was war between Malaysia & the Sulu people. Over 300 years ago the Sulu people ruled over Borneo and then the British took over. The Sulu Sultan still thinks it belongs to him, but has only made moves to take it over by force after Malaysia invested in its infrastructure. Apparently, the Sulu's even took over bits of Borneo and Ezall remembers them occupying Sukau for at least 4 months, while he stayed bunkered down in his home stay with his government issued weapon, lights out after 5 p.m. That is why they still have immigration checks here. I had no idea!

Tomorrow, 5:30 a.m., another river safari in search of orangutans! 

Day 30: Travel to Sandakan, Borneo

Welcome to the Jungle! I swear, that song is talking about Borneo. We fly into the city of Sandakan, in the area of Sabah, in Borneo. We decided it cost basically the same to fly here than to the region's capital, Kota Kinabalu and then travel the 7 hours overland to reach here. Why Sandakan? It's near the Kinabantangan River, which is one of the best places in the world to see orangutans in the wild.

The actual journey sounded relatively simple enough (and for the most part, it was):

1. Wear all of our winter stuff & heavy hiking boots so we can get our checked luggage weight to 15kg.
2. Get the 8 a.m. bus from Melaka to Kuala Lumpur
3. Take the flight
4. Try to find the random mysterious bus mentioned casually in guide books that will take you to Sandakan

It is 30-35 degrees Celsius outside (86-95 degrees F). We are wearing sweat pants and jeans, with sweat shirts. Who would have thought this was appropriate attire for the bus & the plane! We were absolutely shivering (even put a blanket on top of us).

Flying into Borneo, all you can see outside is rivers, jungle, and the horrible eye sort of palm tree plantations.

After we'd landed, and they opened up the back door of the plane, near where we were sitting, I swear the heat hit you like some cinematic cloud of badness. You could just feel it coming your way and then once it hit you - you made the sweat pants realize their destiny. Welcome to the Jungle. And it was 5 p.m.

We then tried to find the mysterious bus stop. If you exit the airport, you have to walk a bit to find it (if its still running). The guides all said it stopped running at 5 p.m. It was 5:10. When we made it to the bus stop, we took a guess and just asked a small mini-van there if he was the bus. This kindly older gentlemen said no, but I'll take you. Stranger danger? Hardly. This guy was listening to 1940s jazz music in a grandfatherly kind of way. How much could we pay him? He said nothing. Just helping.

We owe one pay it forward ride in the future.

Overall Sandakan, not too interesting. We will be happy to leave it when we head towards Sakau  and the Kinabantangan River tomorrow.

Day 28-29: Melaka

The past two days, we just killed time.We spent most of the day indoors, watching a movie on the laptop, figuring a bit out about Borneo and ventured out in the afternoon only after the morning thunderstorms had passed at 3:30.

We decided we'd take these opportunities to try to find Lonely Planet recommended restaurants. Note to self: Lonely Planet does not tell you if some restaurants are a bit of a trek away. We discovered this only after walking and walking and walking and walking and finding one recommended restaurant closed, and walking and walking and walking and finding another recommended restaurant closed. What does 'walking and walking and walking' equate to? Apparently, 9 kms! I do not like having to work so hard for my dinner. What am I? A modern day cavewoman who has to track and hunt down her food? That's why we invented delivery!

Then, the next day, when we finally made it to that restaurant - it was only okay. We gave it a 5 of 10.

In other killing time news, finally got a chance to take out the ukulele and work on a few songs. So far, although I have it with me, I've been way too embarrassed by my lack of ability to play anything to take it out (and I've discovered that people see it and immediately want to jam with you. I hate to tell them, I'm sorry, previous to this ukulele I can only jam if its in jazz form, and no I cannot play whatever song you immediately as me to play).

I've always figured, I play a bazillion instruments. Ukulele can't be that hard. In reality, probably not that hard, but now I've got to pull up memories from music theory days and remember and play chords. I'll show you ukulele. I will become your master! I've got 6 months.

Tomorrow - Borneo.

Day 27: Melaka

After spending all morning figuring out the whole 'where to next' question, we decided we'll go to Borneo in 3 days and just stay in Melaka until then.

We leisurely stepped out in the afternoon to actually go and see the Straits of Melaka. For some reason, this isn't actually listed in any forum or any tour book as something to go and see. Without the Straits, this town wouldn't be renowned. However, to get to see the Straits, you have to walk along a pier, through multiple restaurants, and a place where you book rooms by the hour. It's a quiet place. Not a lot of people. Clearly a place where you feel comfortable getting a room by the hour - a karaoke room that is! The place had some weird hallway that you walk down, hearing one bad song after another, creating a cacophony of karaoke sounds. Straits of karaoke if you ask me.

The Straits themselves are only interesting in that you can say you've seem them. Not great water. Not a great sight. But its still filled with tankers and ships everywhere, reminding one of their importance.

We decided to try to go and find some old Sultanate (which we ended up only finding on our way home), but in the meantime, actually climbed up to the top of a hill to St. Paul's church, where Father Xavier use to stay when in Melaka (and was even interred here for 9 months before heading to Goa for his final resting place). We then got a chance to go explore Chinatown in the daylight. This area is for these Baba (Straits-born Chinese), filled with temples like the Cheng Hoon Teng Temple, covered with intricate vignettes carved into the roof (we missed the Sunday night chant unfortunately). I can see why most of the guesthouses are based in this area. It's quiet, charming, and filled with character. I wished the little old Baba woman with the kids playing outside while we had a beer wasn't closing up shop for the day - she looks like the kind who can really cook.

We stopped by the night market again, and this time hunted down something called Cendol. It's a shaved ice treat with jellies, coconut milk and sugar cane syrup. It looks a little like ice cream with green wormy things on them that's all a bit wrong - but it tastes oh so right!

Melaka also has these 'trishaws' - which is your traditional rickshaw + decorations + flashing lights + boom box stereo system. These are not only everywhere, but you see people actually in them! I keep wondering how you pick one? Do you pick it based on the design (Hello Kitty & Frozen seem to be in the top two spots for decor, but I did see a cool Spiderman one)? Or do you pick it based upon the music (dance club, Let it Go, Abba)? Not that we'll get one, but I'd like to know just in case I'm ever asked. I think I've got to pick it for the music, provided its not Hello Kitty. I don't think I can be seen in Hello Kitty unless there is some sort of reason - like Hello Kitty onesie for a onesie party.

I get the feeling all we are going to do for the rest of our stay is just find more yummy food and maybe walk a bit more. Nothing wrong with that. 

Day 26: Melaka

Melaka is a cool town. Such a odd combinations of cultures that should not have been combined but now work together in an odd post-colonial way. Such an interesting history about this place as well. As you walk down the street, you walk by the old Malay Sultanate's palace which became the seat for the Portuguese viceroy (or whatever he was called) when they took over. It overlooks the remnants of O Famosa, the Portuguese fort built to protect and mark the territory of the Portuguese (and was later torn down by the British during the Napoleon Wars when they had 'temporarily' taken over the city to protect it but, like a child who likes but doesn't want to give back a toy, decided that they liked the idea of destroying it a bit better instead); however, almost right behind it is a huge Dutch windmill and the Melaka river. The riverfront looks as though it belongs in Holland, surrounded by Dutch architecture. 

Then, in the middle of the whole thing is a replica of an old Dutch sailing vessel that currently houses the Maritime Museum. Inside was just lots of reading for me (moral of the story - Straits of Melaka is the easiest passage between the Indian and the Pacific Ocean, lots of trade, 68 languages spoken there at a given time, Portuguese decided they wanted it, implemented lots of taxes and trading rights on certain goods, then the Dutch wanted it, and then the British wanted it. Over time, with all of the taxes, et al, the trading capital slowly moved to Singapore and Melaka became an expensive but 'worthless' property to the British. Thus ends today's "Sarah's interpretation on history" lesson. 

In the evening we trekked over to Jonker Street, which is in the China-town of Melaka. The Chinese actually came to Melaka in the 14th-15th century to protect Melaka from the Siamese. As such, these Chinese folk try to distinguish themselves from more recent immigrants. Additionally, their cultures merged with the locals forming something called Nonya cuisine. You'll also find a lot of Malay-Portugese food as well. What does that have to do with Jonker Street? Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night (it was Saturday), they have a huge night market filled with goodies and stalls. 

The different kinds of fried squid and crayfish on sticks (as in, see the outline of them), fried oysters, local nonya food, regional dishes like 'popiah' which is basically a Malaysian interpretation of a spring roll (bigger, fatter, yummier), etc. 

Then, our favourite thing about the whole Jonker Street experience - public karaoke. It was so bad, so good! A whole big outdoor stage with lights, with a 100 person audience, and serious older folk singing Malaysian songs. That was just the one outdoors. We passed at least one more public karaoke that was indoors AND a Malaysian line dance studio. It was country line dance but with Malaysian music. The two didn't seem to go together, but that seems to be the theme for the day. 

Day 25: Unpause trip & fly to Malaysia

We had to pause our trip for about a week and return to Melbourne so that (insert drumroll) Pallavi could attend her Australian citizenship ceremony. It was all very la di dah Waltzing Matilda and everything. But what does this mean? New passport with new visa privileges! Welcome to the world of no visas required or visas on arrival at least 60% of the time, Pallavi. It's so lovely.

After indulging in our last bowls of Weetbix, glasses of Australian red wine, lots of meat pies and burgers, Tim Tams, clean clothes, and, of course, water from the tap, we booked the cheapest one way ticket we could find to get out of Australian winter - and decided to go to Kuala Lumpur (KL).

Both of us have traveled to Malaysia before, HATE KL, but want to go to Borneo and love Malaysian food. We figured its an easy jumping off place. 

We decided not to stay in KL upon arrival, but rather travel to Malacca (as in the Straits of). Apparently its some UNESCO Heritage protected town, which Lonely Planet says, there is nothing to not like about it. History? UNESCO? I'm sold. 

We arrived at the bus station in Malacca after dark and after a lot of traveling, without accommodation booked. While we are looking for the bus to take us to Town Square, this English Indian fellow comes up to us and asks if we have accommodation. We push him off, but he says the things we are looking for - in our budget, with breakfast, and wi-fi, and he'll give us a lift. Plus, he has a brochure and his book of the rooms on him. (He apparently is running an errand at the bus stand, not just trying to solicit people to his hotel - which I kind of believe as he ran off while we thought about it for 5 minutes and then came back with a handful of stuff). 

Stranger danger probably should have said no. Tiredness said sure. We jumped in this 1980s style German vehicle (the kind with the vinyl seats that inevitably makes your butt sweat) and we started driving. Then, he started giving us a tour! I'm not sure if it was his partially Indian/partially English confused accent, or how he actually gave us the tour - but it was like listening to a documentary or being on one of those sightseeing buses. 

Example: To the left you will see <insert church name> built in <insert year>. It is the oldest church here in Malaysia. The gong in that church is valued at $1.5 million US dollars, and, unlike ordinary gongs that are pulled, this one is operated by foot pedals. You will see that, as this is protected, it must be maintained in its original colour, style, and texture. Now to your right...

It may have been dark, it may have been the stranger danger, it may have been the micro-tour, but just at a quick drive this town looks cool. Where can you find Dutch windmills across the street from Portuguese fortresses across the street from a fountain with Queen Victoria on it. .  

PS - the accommodation apparently only has a 4 out of 10 rating; but its not a 1 out of 10. 

Day 23-24: Chilling out in Jakarta & Flying to Australia

Seriously, all we did was re-pack, watch National Geographic cable TV on programs with titles such as “I got attacked while on safarai,” and “Filmographers gone wild.”

We said our goodbyes, boarded our flight and made it back to Melbourne.

I have never been so happy to come back to Melbourne. Ever. 

Day 22: Attempt #2 to go to Krakatau

Food poisoning mostly gone, we got up again at 4:30 a.m. and this time we made our way towards Krakatau. Krakatau holds accountability for one of the deadliest, most impactful eruptions of all time. It also is still active and when you research it on Trip Advisor, the number one article is entitled something to the effect of “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.” We wanted to go! It’s also about a 3 hour drive from Jakarta. The tour group fees listed online all are in the $200 USD range. That’s a bit steep for us, so we figured we’d grab our stuff, drive out towards Krakatau and see if we can apply the same tricks we learned in Flores and just hire a boat for ourselves.

This tactic unfortunately did not work! The best price we could figure still was something like $120 AUD per person for the boat. We’d then have to pay the various park fees, guide fees, etc. on top of that. That just didn’t make sense. In another tragic turn of events, we decided to just eat breakfast and drive back.

To make it up to Pallavi’s cousin, we took him out to a nice restaurant. We learned two things. 1) Jakartans love to go out to eat. Pallavi’s cousin said that most people go out for lunch and any night of the week you usually need a booking to go to any restaurant. 2) Nice restaurants cost about the same as they would if you went out in Australia.

Such a shame about the volcano, but we’ll just have to do it again sometime. 

Day 21: Food poisoning in Jakarta

4:30 a.m. the alarm goes off. It’s my turn to go to the shower, and then get Pallavi so we can try to leave for Krakatau by 5:30. I do not feel good.

I go to the bathroom… and I go to the bathroom…. And I go to take a shower and turn the water on and immediately off… and go to the bathroom…. Go to take a shower and turn the water on and immediately off… vomit… and I call it. I hate to call it, but I need to take a call quickly and I cannot see a future right now where in a toilet is not readily accessible.

I tell Pallavi I don’t think I can go. She asks what I believe to be a critical question – when you think of food, do you think I want to throw up or I want to eat? I don’t even want to have coffee without wanting to throw up! Tragically, the journey is off! I went to go and tell Pallavi’s cousin and promptly ran back to the bathroom, then to bed.

That is about it. I spent the rest of the day intermittently sleeping and eating half a banana, or drinking half a cup of coconut water, or having half a piece of bread.

When I finally got up, we tried to figure out what in the world could have poisoned me. I finally got my comeuppance. I thought I’d never get food poisoning because I’ve been slowly poisoned my whole life. Now I can no longer claim that.

Was it Pallavi’s chicken? Maybe… but we all ate it and I’m the only one who got sick. Was it the touristy, well-known Café Batavia, where Pallavi had gotten a bad prawn & I had gotten some seafood, tofu, and vegetable claypot? Definitely could have been!

We still want to try to go to Krakatau, but let’s see if I’m up for it in the morning. 

Day 20: Historic Jakarta

Today is Saturday and Pallavi’s cousin has started his weekend. He suggested taking us to historic Kuta Jakarta, which is the old Dutch capital of Indonesia. Indonesia was occupied for years by, first the Portuguese, then the Dutch East India Company, and the Netherlands. The crumbling heart of Kuta has all of the traditional Dutch-style architecture, the original Indonesian headquarters of the Dutch East India company, all in a town square. The square is filled with brightly coloured bicycles with bicyclists wearing matching brightly coloured sun-hats that you can rent. It also has Japanese-style costumed characters all over the square that you can take photos with. It’s filled with art, with food stalls, with drink stalls, all in a festive flavor. It is pretty spectacular.

We decided to have lunch at the nostalgic Café Batavia. It is the 2^nd oldest building on the square, built in the late 17^th century. Filled with dark teak woods, passing the band stage (no band right now), up stairs that are covered with old photos of 19^th century celebrities. It is pretty grand and lovely. Great, but expensive place to have lunch (and Pallavi did get a bad prawn, so we got that dish knocked off of the bill).

We spent the rest of the afternoon at home. Jakarta truly is a mega-city. As Pallavi says, it looks like Delhi will when construction is done and Delhi is ‘complete.’ It sprawls like Dubai, but lacks the modern architecture. It is way more advanced compared to its island cousins. The people here look way more Malay in looks compared to the people on Flores, who out of context, look South Indian in complexion.

That night we took it easy and Pallavi cooked one of her favourite receipes to say thank you to her cousin for letting us stay with him. We also decided that instead of taking the long overland route from Jakarta to Bali the next day that we would try to go to this active volcano Krakatau instead and fly from Bali to Jakarta on the 5^th, the day before our international flight back to Australia.

My tummy hurt a bit, so I called it an early night, since we’d have to get up at 4:30 to try to get out to where we needed to get to try to book a boat. 

Day 19: Chilling at Home in Jakarta

Pallavi’s cousin had work today and to be honest, we couldn’t be bothered with exploring. We just sat at home, cleaned clothes, went to buy some coffee supplies from the local mall, and watched cable television. I had no idea there were so many National Geographic channels. It was great to have a stop in the middle. This trip has been really hard for me. I haven’t been to many developing countries, and those that I have visited (India, Egypt, Brazil to some extent, and Malaysia) have either been for short trips or with friends. I really need to get my Pippi Longstocking/Pocohantas Explorer/Pirate hat on and get ready for the rest of Southeast Asia. I‘ve gotta figure out squat toilets, how to clean my own clothes in the shower, how to flush said squat toilets using the bucket and the cup thing, and how to haggle. These are must haves! I am such a pansy. I’ve gotta say – I’m loving the air conditioning and the cable tv.

Once Pallavi’s cousin came home, he invited us to join him at some roof top bar. He said there was a dress code, so we scurried around to find our Backpacking finest. We figured, we’re women, it usually isn’t as hard to pull off dress casual as women. We’ve never not been allowed entry!

Dressed to the 8s (there is no 9, we are backpacking after all), we go to the roof top bar, where we are told that there is a dress code and as such, as we won’t be allowed entry! We found out later from our Indonesia friend Aldi that he also wasn’t allowed in this bar once and he has refused to spend money in any of that management company’s restaurants since.

Heads hanging, knowing we are the reason her cousin didn’t get in, we go to another more casual place, have a great time, and call it a night. 

Day 18: Flight from Maumere to Jakarta

We couldn’t wait to get out of Maumere. Everybody just decided to go with us to the airport and take the same flight as us. All flights seem to have to transit through Bali in order to get anywhere else, including ours! We just get to the airport and kill 2 hours.

We got to Bali, said a quick goodbye and best wishes to our companions, and caught our flight to Jakarta where Pallavi’s cousin had sent his driver to pick us up. Her cousin, Ranjeet, was there to meet us. Ranjeet and Pallavi share the same great-grandmother on her mother’s father’s side. It was so great to get there, immediately throw our clothes for a wash, and just relax in air conditioning and eat Indian food, have a beer, and catch up. 

Day 17: Moni to Maumere

After another Vikki/Pallavi negotiation (which this time involved a shot of Arak at a locals house), we arranged another car to get us to Maumere. Our flight to Jakarta is tomorrow, so we figured we might as well check out this time before we go. What a waste!

Maumere is not nice. We got to the hotel, found some cheap place without a shower (bucket baths it is then!) and set on a quest for internet. The other girls needed to figure out what they were doing next. We walked around, asking for internet – I swear, in a town of 50,000 people, there must be just one mythical place with internet. We never found it! Finally, we gave up, had dinner, and went back to our place to take a shower and relax (Vikki even gave up on asking the owners of the hotel for wifi and just sat down and used their computers when they ran away from here).

• Problem #1: No water. Just a bucket previously filled with water. 4 people. I swear this is water conservation at its finest!
• Problem #2: Electricity is out. That means no fan! Guess its movie time!
• Problem #3: The loud guys who keep walking across our door and shouting in the middle of the night.

I cannot wait to just get to Jakarta and have clean clothes and a hot shower but not be so hot all of the time. 

Day 16: Trek to Kelimutu

The locals wanted 50,000 Rupiah to take us the 13.5 kms to the top of the volcano Kelimutu. We decided walking was free. We set off on foot to see how we go and nobody stopped us. What awaits us at the top of this mountain? There are 3 separate volcanic craters, separated only by a thin rock wall, that erupted years ago and have since filled with water. The water in each crater is a different colour and the colour changes depending upon the time of year. One crater is redblack, another crater is sky blue/white, and the final crater is green. Oh, and at least one of them is an active geyser as well! These craters are why we have borne a really long public bus ride, multiple car rides, and now, a trek 16.5 kms to the top.

But travel is all about the journey, not the destination, right?

Transport 1: We barely have hiked 3 kms when we thumb down a passing vehicle, and jump into the back for 2 kms. We get off and resume our trek.

Transport 2: Now the Canadian and I are in some sort of shape. Pallavi & Vikki are both struggling just a little bit, but they are resourceful! They hear a vehicle coming about 40 minutes into the trip and thumb it down. It’s a passenger bus filled with women, but it doesn’t have room in the bus. However, the women all start pointing to the roof. We point to the roof too, and next thing we know, we are on top of the bus! It. Was. Awesome! The driver definitely was driving slower around all of the curves to ensure our safety, and after about 3 minutes of potential, initial panic, it was on! We were so sad when we finally had to come down and resume our walk.

Transport 3: Again we start walking. I am thinking and cursing whoever’s bright idea this was. No environmental wonder could possibly be worth this hike! I clearly am an indoor child. Thank God Pallavi & Vikki are both out of shape, as they thumb down another passing vehicle. What is it this time? A police/military transport vehicle filled with officers who are all happy to pick up 4 ladies. So happy that when we reached the entrance to volcano, they stopped to take pictures with all of us (and some more than others, ahem, Pallavi)

Transport 4: Apparently, the 16.5 kms we had been promised was just to the gate. The park officials told us there were still another 5-6 kms to go. Now, really exhausted, we continue trekking and trekking and trekking and this isn’t 5 kms! We’ve definitely gone farther. Trekking, trekking, hear the sound of a motorcycle, see Vikki & Pallavi on the back of a motorcycle leaving the Canadian and I behind! Trekking, cursing at Vikki & Pallavi, trekking, trekking, trekking, FINALLY the motorcycle has come back for us and takes us at least another 3 kms to the top. Where apparently we still have another 1 km to hike. 

By the time we got to the top and explored, we wanted to spend as much time with the craters as we could. Lots of time! Lots of pictures. The white crater was emitting smoke from its geysers and creating a mystical sense about the place. In local traditional, these craters were where dead spirits came for their final resting place. Which crater they moved landed in depended upon their age & life. We were entranced to the extent that we didn’t leave the top of the mountain after feeling the first rain drops. No, we started running down all 1 kms of steps once it started pouring! Thankfully we reached this shelter, along with some creepy overly friendly park ranger and our motorcyclists, where we spent another 30-45 minutes freezing and drying off. The sun finally came out and Vikki & Lyndsay wanted to go back up to the top and get profile pictures. We opted not to climb, and again 10 minutes later, it poured again – this time for 2 hours! By the time we finally were able to make it to the café, that we more than happy to pay the two motorcyclists a small amount to take us back to Moni, just so we wouldn’t risk getting stuck in the rain again!

That night, we found a local place and just chilled as the owner played a guitar, sang familiar songs, and had a fellow join him on the bongos. It was pretty amazing. 

Day 15: Bus to Moni

Bijawa is not giving us the kind of vibe we wanted! We were going to take today to see this local tribe called the Ngada people, but we decided after yesterday’s bus event and getting the feel of this town, that we’d better go over to Moni.

Last night, laying down in bed, with Vicks shoved up my nose, through the fuzzyiness of a sinus cold induced haze, the group discussed how we were travelling. When asked, “Sarah, are you up for the public bus,” I must sadly confess that I firmly said “No.” “What if we can’t find another form of transportation?” “I’m sure we’ll find something.” This morning, Pallavi & Vikki went out to find something. Actually, Vikki and I already had found a car (by asking random cars to pull over), but our driver reneged on our deal. Pallavi & Vikki came back from their trek some odd 1.5 hours later. When they came in, they said, “This is Renaldo. His actual name is [insert Indonesian name]. We have met his father, his mother, his brother, his uncle, his other uncle, and have travelled all over this town. He has agreed to take us to a town 2 hours from Moni, called Ende, for the price we want.”

Into the car! Oh, so much better than the public bus. Turned out, after all of that. Renaldo wasn't even going to drive us! His brother Chris was going to drive. However, Chris, had a need for speed. I think he thought we were in a real life PlayStation F1 video game, because he drove so fast on a road that perpetually oscillated between right & left turns (that really, what’s the point of the swervy road sign at that point), we spend the whole ride being thrown from left to right in the car. However, we made what was supposed to be a 5 hour drive in 3.5 hours. Record score Chris!

We get out of the car near what is meant to be the bus station. After learning it isn’t, we start to walk. As we walk, cars start to pull over to ask where we are going. Every car means a certain negotiation. One car says 200,000 Rupiah. We want 100,000, so we keep walking. We walk another 300 metres and the car drops another 50,000. Finally, after 750 metres, the car is down to 100,000 (Thank God he caved, that bus station really was some odd 4 kms away!). Into car #2 we go. This guy drives much more carefully. There were so many landslides where we were going. It was Sunday, so the road is open all day; however, on other days, it has certain hours. As we hit a midpoint, the driver stops at this roadside vegetable market.

It was cool and cloudy on top of this volcanic mountain and finally, we were seeing the ‘villagers’ we were hoping for. These women were wearing a traditional dress – some sort of brown coloured woven all-purpose drape with designs on it, sitting near their wears, smiling with beetlenut stained teeth (loving the fact there was an Indian there). These cloaks often were worn around the waist like a skirt; however, they could be worn as a cloak, used as a blanket, etc.

We finally get to Moni, find a place with hot/cold showers at our price, and head over to some family run Warung across the street. The woman, who after her son took our orders shouted "momma! (insert order)", we called “momma,” made everything from scratch, as soon as you ordered it. In fairness, the menu did say it would take time – and it was true. But an hour later, we had such yummy, rich, delicious soups & other food we decided not to try to the food anywhere else. Tomorrow we’ll take on the volcano.

Day 14: The public bus from Labaun Bajo to Bijawa

6:00 and we are outside waiting for the public bus. The Spanish girl, Vikki, from last night has decided to come along. Remember when we were waiting for that bus in Ubud and we panicked when we saw the Ute? You can only imagine our panic when we saw this bus coming towards us, with luggage piled at least 3 feet high on its roof, filled with people, and it stops and calls our names. This is our bus? No? It can’t be our bus? Okay – well, there are 4 people, 4 seats left. We lift our luggage to join the now 3.5 foot pile on the roof, go in and take our seats. 

The bus is filled with people, the floor lined with stuff, and the whole back is lined with stuff. We figured the bus was pretty packed. It couldn’t possibly take on more passengers. Wrong! It took on more passengers. And more stuff!

About 15 minutes into the bus ride, I realize that my seat doesn’t have a backrest. Instead, I’m leaning against some lopsided round bags of produce. About that same time we realize there is some smell heavily hanging in the air. It smells like a wet, dirty mop. Then we realise that bag of stuff I’m leaning on in the source of the smell.

Alright, so, let’s just summarize:

1. We definitely have way more people than seats on the bus.
2. It smells like wet mop
3. I have no backrest (Pallavi takes a turn and sits for at least 5-6 hours here as well)
4.  am coming down with a sinus cold  and sneezing non-stop
5. The roads are the windiest roads ever

Then somebody tells us this journey isn’t an 8 hour journey – it’s a 10-11 hour journey! It’s about this time that we decide that perhaps it would be worth the extra $1 to take a shuttle bus. We might be backpacking, but we don’t have to live like this!

About 5 hours into the journey, we finally hit our halfway point (and our breaking point was long back) and start to here this THUD THUD THUD THUD under the right tire. It keeps going for a bit and the bus stops and they look at it, and keep going. We figure it might be just fine; however, that thud only gets louder and louder and louder. Finally, the bus stops and they decide its time to fix the tire. The girls all decide to take a bathroom break. As we come out, we see that their first attempt to salvage the tire is to take a machete and to try to hack off the bits that have shredded! Needless to say, this failed, and they had to change the tire.

Never have I ever been on such a long, cramped, quiet, windy, car-sickening bus ride. Clearly, the fact the children sitting next to us vomited reflected what we really wished that we could do. I wish I could say never again, but I think that would be a lie. We were all so excited to get to Bijawa, we wouldn’t have minded the 3km walk to town. First public bus experience in Southeast Asia = slightly traumatic. Also, we decided that perhaps it would indeed be wish to get travel insurance. This is not how I want to go! 

Day 13: NOT Travelling to Bijawa

We calculated where we wanted to go in Flores and how long it would take for us to get there and decided that we had one extra day. We might as well spend it in the middle of Flores and leave Labuan Bajo today. That was the plan anyway. Apparently that bus had passed. All of the buses had passed when they left at 7 a.m. while we were still sleeping. Guess we’ll spend that extra day here in Labuan Bajo!

The Italians had stopped by again this morning and their own plans had changed due to them sleeping in as well. They decided they would go and get a boat and go to this island, Kenawa, which apparently has amazing snorkeling. They loved to snorkel (even carrying their own snorkeling gear alongside). We had already priced buses, and Pallavi had chatted with some Spanish girls who were thinking about going to Bijawa tomorrow as well. With that tentative plan in place, we went along with the Italians (and the Canadian joined us) to go snorkeling. Again back to the fisherman. These Indonesians are funny – it feels like they put a price on the nap we’re interrupting at noon to ask for a boat. No other reason makes sense for why some quoted us 1.2 million Rupiah! After a long time we found our boat captain from yesterday, and Pallavi convinced him to take us to where we wanted to go for the price we wanted (300,000) by telling him he could drink Bintang and sing Adele like he had the day before.

This snorkel was an epic snorkel. We have never seen so many different varieties of sealife in one location, so easily. I was sputtering for air with a malfunctioning snorkel (at least I thought it was malfunctioning, in reality I’m sure it was user error, but I still insist it was malfunctioning), but during that time, they saw multiple reef sharks, a sting-ray, some huge ginormous fish of unnamed origin (maybe Rhino, maybe Bull, we can’t quite find it), star fish, clams, sea turtles, sea grass-hopper, pearl-kind-oysters, sea slugs, clown fish, Finding Nemo, you name it. It was way better than Gili Air. There were very different varieties of fish than on Gili Air. But such a jungle under the sea. We must have snorkeled for 2 hours. This was about an hour longer than I am game for at a time, but they all just loved it!

That night we came back, and the Spanish girls considering coming with us hadn’t made up their mind. We got gung-ho, and just booked our bus ticket for 130,000 Rupiahs. 5 minutes later and we ran into them saying they could get a private car for 80,000 Rupiah pp. We went back to the agent to try to get him to give us a car for the same price, but I’m not sure what was wrong with this guy. When we asked him, so you don’t want more money, he said yes. I think you 3 take the bus, and you 3 pay somebody else. Whatever. His loss. The bus leaves at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow, so we got our accommodation to give us breakfast at 5:45 (instead of 6:00), and we should be all set. I just need coffee! We also got lots of food at the local grocery store, so hopefully we won’t have to risk our stomachs tomorrow as well.

The Italians then invited us to go to some Night Market that exists in town. It’s just filled with mostly fish mongors. You pick the fish, they cook it. Pretty simple. Now, Thomas’s father is from Sicily, and he worked at a fish mongers. We learned so much about fish. He picked the freshest fish, had them make it the right ways, told us how to eat it to avoid bones, and it was potentially the best meal that we’ve had so far in Indo! 

Day 12: Komodos!!

We woke up bright and early, ready to go and haggle and go and see the komodos. We should have known better of Italians that they would run late. It wasn’t until 8:30 or so when we finally saw Thomas & Carolina, and they had a bit of business they needed to sort regarding their flight home. Carolina came with us, and we went off to the harbor. Back and forth, meeting a few police men, etc. we get a price for 600,000 to take a boat of people to Rinca. Fantastic. Now to get as many people as we can onto the boat! But where are they?? I’ve learned that Indo is a place that starts early. Boats to anywhere leave early. Scuba diving vessels leave early. Buses leave early. So 9:30 a.m. is  not a good time to find anybody on the street – and we looked! We looked for foreigners everywhere! Inside any baked good place, I’d go inside and ask the foreigners if they were up for going (answer = no). It was getting to be 10:00 a.m. and we are getting a little anxious that the fisherman is still even going to be there when we get back! Somehow, everything suddenly lines up for us! The travel agent across the street from our accommodation says he has a cousin who will take us out for 600,000 and he’ll take us snorkeling as well. Then, Carolina finds this girl who literally is fresh off of a boat from another island, lovely Canadian named Lyndsay, who says, yes, would love to come! Brilliant – 5 people, 600,000, we all set off to go to Rinca to see the Komodos.

Now, we had heard mixed reviews about the Komodos. Most people had said that it wasn’t really great, that it didn’t feel organic, and that the komodos just lay around and do nothing. Fortunately, Pallavi has taken me for enough wildlife spotting adventures that I have better set expectations. When you arrive on the island, you are met by a guide. The guide is there to protect you in the event of an attack, as komodos are quite hard to spot in the grass & are quite poisonous. The guide takes you to pay the park fees, and then lets you select from 3 kinds of walks (short, medium, long) of various terrains to go and try to spot komodos. We ask him which one he thinks is best, given the rainy conditions that day, and he says medium. He also says, usually you see komodos by our kitchen! Even though we don’t feed them, every day they hope to get lucky. Today was our lucky day too, because we saw 6 komodos outside of the kitchen. They are pretty amazing creatures that are hard to describe. They have the claws of an alligator, the snout and tongue of a snake, but the body of a lizard. They use their tongue to find their way, and track prey for 5 kms. They give no signs if they are going to attack you. They can go from a dead stop to a 18 km run (but they are just sprinters). Tons of pics. Thankfully, we saw one of the younger komodos walk into the forest or to be honest, we might not have believed that they actually lived in the wild! Our hike was pretty uneventful – the rangers weren’t really great at helping us spot the animals. Apparently this island is filled with wild boar, buffalo, horses, etc. We saw nothing – but it was 3 p.m., so I didn’t expect much.

We then stopped at another island for snorkeling (which I passed on), and then headed back home to just chill outside! Tomorrow, we’ll try to head over to Bijawa to see a tribal village, en route to Maumere, which we have to be at on 28/4 for a flight to Jakarta. 

Day 11: Transit to Labuan Bajo (continued)

Part 4: Shuttle Bus from Bima to Sape

We get to the bus station in Sape, and Pallavi waves off the bus vultures until after we’ve had a cup of coffee. She then negotiates a price for a bus which is leaving at 6:00 a.m. to make sure we get to Sape in time for the 9:00 a.m. ferry. We sit on the bus with a few interested guys, and again use the ukulele to make friends. What else do you do at 3:30 a.m. Finally, years later, we join the bus, going over the remainder of the island of Surabaya in the early morning. We were only partially relieved when the conductor, after taking pictures of himself with each of us, showed us all of the other pictures he had taken with foreigner women.

Part 5: The Ferry from Sape to Labuan Bajo

This ferry was 7 hours long, but we were so exhausted from the over airconditioned, windy road bus ride that we both slept for about 2 hours well and properly. A few games of Scrabble Dash later & it was over.

Part 6: Labuan Bajo

We ride into this beautiful port town on the island of Flores, do a hunt for accommodation, meet a few Italians who were on our Ferry, shower, and finally have a great dinner, and find the Italians

again to see if they are interested in going to see the Komodos the next day. Apparently, during my shower, Pallavi has chatted with a few foreigners at our place just chilling outside who said they got a group of 8 together and just got a fishing boat to take them to the island of Rinca, one of the two islands on which you can see the Komodo dragon. We somehow find the Italians and strike a plan to meet at 7 a.m. the next day to go and arrange a boat, find more foreigners, and head over to Rinca. 

Day 10: Transit to Labuan Bajo

Today we set out on our epic journey towards Labuan Bajo. We know we won’t reach until tomorrow afternoon. It all seems a wee bit daunting after hours and hours of research, but I think we know enough of the parts that we can try to do it ourselves.

Part 1: Public Boat to Bengsal Harbour

The public boats that leave Gili Air can leave as early as 7:30, but each boat won’t depart until they have 30 passengers.  We want to make sure we get one of these boats, so 7:10 a.m., there we are at the boat dock. Coffees in hand, backpacks ready, flipflops ready (so we can prove to ourselves that we can board this boat from the water unlike the last time when we almost fell over), we get on the boat without any dramas and reach Bengsal Harbour.

Part 2: Shuttle Bus from Bengsal Harbour to Mataram

No sooner than we set foot on the sand at Bengsal Harbour than we are immediate accosted by vendors trying to take us somewhere. We already had a game plan to get us a cheaper rate to Mataram. Vendor says 50,000 (which we expected), Pallavi calls out 40,000 – 2 people – more profit, and they immediately accept. They tell us to go down the way to a café and they’ll pick us up at 9:30 (its only 8:15). We get to the café and order breakfast. What else are we going to do while we wait? What do I get? Porridge. What does Pallavi get? Ant omelet. Something tragic happened to her omelet and she pulled out not one ant, not two ants, not three ants, but some poor company of ants who had met their maker in the pan! I told Pallavi it was just extra protein. She said, “I don’t know where those ants have been.” Fair point. Even the 2^nd replacement omelet had a few ants! Bad breakfast complete, we finally get on the shuttle with two other foreigners – where Pallavi realizes that one of them has lice! How do you #nolice when you are faced with them. Undecided, but so far it looks like we are still lice free, so whatever hexing we must have done worked! 1.5 hours later, we finally get to the bus station in Mataram – and it’s in the middle of nowhere!

Part 3.1: Shuttle Bus from Mataram to Bima (Bus Station)

Trying to haggle and get a good price in Indonesia is hard. It seems that although the individuals are happy to try to make as much they can off at you, they don’t want to do it at the expense of their fellows. As soon as we arrive at the bus station in Mataram, we are set upon as if we are fresh meat.
Pallavi finds a friendly looking person, who walks us around as we explain that we want to go from Mataram to Labuan Bajo or to Sape. After a bit of to and fro, we come to 290,000 Rupiah pp to Sape. Pallavi says we’ll think about it, even though he goes ahead and writes us a ticket. Either way we have to get cash, so we walk off to try to find an ATM. After 15 minutes, we find an ATM. Pallavi withdraws cash and we go inside the associated bank to sort through it. I asked Pallavi for the ATM card so I could put it away. No ATM card! It’s the first time we’ve used the card, and after searching through everything for about 15 minutes, we come to the sad conclusion that the ATM must have eaten it. Tragic moment! Pallavi asks the bank manager if they can open it up; but they can only open it up once a day, when they refill the ATM. After seeing the poor desperate look in our eyes, they say, well, we can refill it now! Out they go, in they come, ATM card in hand. Ta-dah! Phew! Okay, money – check. ATM card secured- check. Back to the bus station.

As we enter the bus station, we are approached by a new guy who asks where we are going and quotes us 275,000 when we tell him. Obviously we’ll go with the lowest price. We head over to the original guys and collect our stuff, saying we’ve got a better price. Apparently that just isn’t done! The 1^st guy gets into a rage, saying we had struck a deal, and the 2^nd guy is a cheat. The 2^nd guy said he didn’t want to underquote the 1^st guy, he didn’t know! Then the 1^st guy rips the tickets up, throws them in Pallavi’s face, and makes an aggressive lunge – to which Pallavi responds in kind (we are women in a Muslim country, after all – they won’t touch us), shouts we’ll make sure no tourist ever takes Dunia Mas again (Note: don’t take Dunia Mas. They are bad), grabs our stuff and we head over to the 2^nd guy. Now the 2^nd guy can’t sell us the ticket we want because he has to work with the 1^st guy. But he does sell us a ticket to Bima for 180,000 and we sit with him for 3 hours, wherein he plays my ukulele, teaches us some Indonesian songs, and finally we get on the bus.

Part 3.2: Shuttle Bus from Mataram to Bima (The Ferry)

We took the shuttle across all of Lombok until we reached the Ferry (where we finally caved and bought street food off the vendors who come onto the bus because we were starving and didn’t have enough provisions. They sell this weird thing called ‘Nasi’ – which is really rice & noodles, with some sauce and a piece of chicken wrapped in banana leaf. PS – didn’t get us sick, so I’d call that a win). This Ferry was very different from the long ferry we took before. This was a local transport – with entertainment! It’s only a two hour ferry – and there were two ‘areas’ (indoor & outdoor), and two performers. Performer #1: Bad Indonesian Karaoke Man with shimmering pants. This fellow had managed to convert a stereo, plugged in a USB, and started singing. The crowd went wild in mock cheering. At least I think it was mock. All I know is that is was horribly amazing; however, one can only take so much, so we went into room 2. Room 2, we caught the performer mid-act. The crowd seemed mesmerized and he seemed to be passing around these metal balls. Then he collected some money, and the show ended and he moved to Room 1. Intrigued, we followed him! After some time seeing the whole act, we realized he was selling massage oil and accessories. However, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a Barker. He had the whole crowd engaged and must have sold massage oil to at least 1:3 people.

Part 3.3: Shuttle Bus from Mataram to Bima (The Overnight Bus)

All I can say is that the roads were so windy that even laying down we got thrown from side to side. Also, it was freezing cold. My poor little face towel was not enough to cover more than my torso, so I needed Pallavi to put her legs on top of mine to cover the remainder. Also, definitely expected to reach Bima at 5:30 a.m. NOT 3:30 a.m.

Day 9: Gili Air

Another lazy snorkeling day on Gili Air. Only this time we finally got a good price for our snorkels & fins, and went out for two amazing snorkels. Our first snorkel was in deeper water with rich coloured big fish. Every time I go snorkeling in tropical waters I always think back to playing the kids travel version of ‘Go Fish’ – the ones with Angel Fish, Clown fish, etc. And that, my friends, is my reference for fish identification. Not some sort of Audubon’s guide to fish of the sea. Nope. Kids Large Card Go Fish. What else do you need really?

Okay, maybe a proper guide that says don’t touch these fish or those fish. But those are minor details. I’m scared enough of fish as it is. I’m not about to go up and touch one, especially after hearing the sound of the largest smorgasbord of fish dining on coral while in the water. It was like being at a table with people talking all with their mouth full – only with fish.

The second snorkel we saw our sea turtle! Despite much sputtering, slight drowning, and many bad photo attempts made by me, the sea turtle couldn’t have cared less about us.

It did care, however, about trying to snack on as much coral as it could. We again ran into a few schools of small fish who only put us into a minor panic when we got too close and the fish split and started going towards us.

I got my second sunburn! I’m going to pretend like all of this sun is just prepping me for my first real tan – or skin cancer. I’m going to stay in ignorant bliss and call it a real tan. However, bathing in sunblock continues to be a morning, afternoon, and evening ritual.

Tomorrow we start our big adventure to get to the Isle of Flores. Not quite sure yet how we’ll get there, but 24 hours later, it should be a go! 

Day 8: Gili Air

We finally got a chance to snorkel and see what all of this whole “Dive Gili” thing is about. After another morning at a local ‘warung’ or diner, making friends with locals who love Bollywood (again), we got a deal on some snorkel gear and hiked our distance to a restaurant we’d been a day before to get out in the water and see if we can go and find some sea turtles that everybody had been saying you could see pretty easily.

I had no idea there was so much sea life so close to the shore! We saw sea urchins, rainbow coloured fish, grass-green coloured fish, some snake-like thing in the water, a whole school of fish (100s if not 1000s of fish), and some big fish (who I’m sure is actually not that big, but it sure felt like it at the time!). It was pretty incredible. The water is so warm to go

in there is no transition at all between sitting on the beach and being in the water. No awkward, uncomfortable getting cold when you get in or out here! Tragically, after we came out and had our fresh juices, the tide had gone out – and when the tide has gone out here, your ship has sailed on snorkeling. Remember those sea urchins? It’s so shallow, that if you try to snorkel over them and you’ve had a big lunch, you may be at risk of getting deflated by one of those sea urchins! No thank you! Tragically, we didn’t see any sea turtles!

Time to get out, try to play the ukulele I brought with, attempt to get better at playing chess and prolong the defeat that is going to be delivered to me by Pallavi, and have a few beers on the side of the water, looking at the volcanos of the isle of Lombok across the water from us.

One more day on Gili Air, try to see sea turtles, repack the bags, figure out how to get to Flores, and gear up for our early a.m. off the day after. But that is for future me to figure out. 

Day 7: Gili Air

Gili Air is not the island we were meant for. The Lonely Planet all said that of the three Gili islands, this is the one that is the mix of being happening and being chill. I think we were in the mood for more chill. Thus we spent at least the first half of our tropical paradise beach moping! I blame it on lack of caffeine.

The Gili Islands really do have beautiful water. They don’t allow

vehicles on the island, so all you hear are the bells of the horse carts and the dings of rented bicycles passing you on the sand roads around the entire island. The water here is that true aquamarine colour of blue and is rich with sealife. The Gilis is also one of the world’s best and cheapest places to learn how to dive. Our hostel is clean –but for the most part, the people are a bit stuck up. We have hypothesized that most of its inhabitants are scuba divers doing their 2 month instructor training course. What we have witnessed across the island is that scuba folk all seem like cool folk, but birds of a feather who stick together. They also seem to speak this weird scuba tongue. You hear it all over the island.

However, the entire island is filled with restaurant upon restaurant, but there isn’t exactly beach. Each restaurant has its own beach, so it appears that to pick the beach, you pick the restaurant you want to patronage first. We walked a fair piece away from the crowd to find traditional Gili Air food and a great place to just get into the beach. The restaurants all have these raised ‘huts’, filled with a small raised table in the middle and cushions for you to sit on while you wait on the food.
And locals who love Bollywood! Pallavi is like an Indian superstar. Every place we’ve gone, when the local asks where Pallavi says, and she says India, they respond, “India, Atcha, Atchaaaaaa. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai?” Atcha = ‘okay/good’ and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a popular 1990s movie. Then they start discussing some Bollywood thing or another, and instantly they are friends. I had no idea that Indonesians loved Bollywood like this! Now that woman’s music on the boat yesterday completely made sense! 

Day 6: Transit from Ubud to Gili Air

We got up, ate our yummy breakfast, and made it to the corner where we waited for 30 minutes for our shuttle. We had been told a vehicle would stop at the place we were waiting and call out our name. We’ve read so many tales about people being promised one person per seat and ending up with people sitting on top of each other, so it of no surprise that we were a bit concerned when some two person diesel ute pulled up and waited for some time. We just hoped they didn’t call our name and were relieved they pulled away.

Our real shuttle finally pulled up, and they made us squish a bit in the back. So one person too many in the shuttle. Overall, not too bad. And we finally got to see the rest of Ubud – rice paddies, beautiful Eat, Pray, Love style resorts, etc.

Now, there are two ferries you can take. The speedboat or the slow public boat. We took the slow public boat. 4-5 hours! A pirates life is definitely not for me. It was even a smooth(ish) journey and both of us turned a bit green. I really hope I get my sea legs soon. I took a nap to help me get through. At some point, I though Pallavi had broken and started listening to and singing along with Hindi music. I woke up and Pallavi was looking around. What are you looking around for? Whoever was playing that Hindi music!!!

We finally got off of the ferry on the Island of Lombok, and got onto another shuttle which again was one person too many (and that person was me, sitting on a micro cot the driver put in the door). We also had to put our luggage on top of the vehicle. Thank God for group fitness that I could press and lift those 16 kgs over my head! I felt like she-man! We just prayed the luggage didn’t fly off! After a few stops we got to our final place, the public boat to Gili Air.

We sat around chatting with some Brazillian guy who’d done this route before, and Pallavi gestured to one of the boats that was just floating on the beach and asked if that was the kind of boat we’d need to go on. He said, yeah. I looked down at my tennis shoes & immediately started taking them off to put on my flipflops, and converted our glampacks to backpacks. It was only when it finally came time to board, that we realized the boat wasn’t actually tethered to the beach. This is going to be a timing and coordination game to get on the boat. Pallavi goes first, backpack on, carryon tethered to the front. Pallavi somehow gets her timing right and has some man help her on board. Apparently the poor guy wasn’t expecting a girl with luggage when he put his hand out to help her, and when he caught her hand, his eyes bulged out in surprise.

Now it’s my turn. Backpack on, carryon tethered to the front, extra carry on, bag of snacks, and now my flipflops so they don’t get washed away, in one hand. I get my timing, stand up, put my hand out for somebody to give me the final heave and nothing! But I made it up anyway.

When we finally got off the island and made it to the hotel (12 hours later), we decided screw the budget, 2 large bottles of beer!