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.