Day 180: Dades Gorge

We only had to drive 2.5 hours today, so we took our sweet time getting up, and eating breakfast while overlooking the Dades Gorge and the Tamlalt Valley. Pallavi surprised me by finding accommodation near the Tamlalt, which is a rock formation that looks like fingers emerging from the ground Little Mermaid style. We had a few options on what to do with our day, but we ultimately decided that we'd drive towards Dades Gorge, as it was just 10 kms or so away from our hotel. 

After driving hairpin turn after hairpin turn up the mountain and through this little narrow crevice of a gorge, we took our obligatory pictures. Unlike the Todres Gorge, this gorge had zero tourists and just one lone Moroccan tradesman out selling his wares. This young man was happily sitting on the side of the road, weaving a hat, with all of his hats and boots laid out on display. We stopped to look at his wares and were amazed by how sweet he was. He was the first guy who didn't seem like he was just out to make money off of us. He happily told us about his hats, what they were made of, the various styles, and so on. We liked him so much we bought from him, and Pallavi then asked if he also made carpets. He said no, he didn't, but his mother did. He gave us her card and told us to drive 3 kms down the road, where we would find his mother.

We drove 3 kms. No store. We drove 2 more kms. No store. We asked some locals and showed them the card, and they pointed us back in the direction from whence we had come, and told us to drive 2 more kms. 

We turned around and drove 2 more kms. No store. We asked some local, who again told us to turn around and drive 1 km. 

We turned around and drove 1 more km. We asked some more locals, who told us to turn around, and pointed out a small home on the left hand side of the road just a few hundred meters away. 

We turned around and pulled next to the house. We were greeted by a sweet woman, who didn't speak any English, who confirmed that the card did belong to her. We asked about carpets, and she confirmed yes, but invited us inside her home for some tea and to wait for her husband. 

We had read that the carpet buying experience in Morocco is just that - an experience. You should expect to have lots of tea, to take a lot of time, and to negotiate a bit. You should also try to buy directly from the weaver to both better support them and to get a better price. 

Expectations set, we entered the house. We were taken past their 2 goats, a pile of corn on the corner of the floor, and through an open-air space that contained a building with a kitchen on the left and were led to a cave lined with carpets on the floor on the right. We followed the woman's lead and took off of our shoes and sat on a carpet inside. The cave smelled like humanity. As we sat, we realized that this space was the family's main living space. Everything that they owned was piled up in the corners of this area. 

We sat and the woman brought over a table and set it down. She then brought tea, pouring them into what clearly were here nicest glasses, and gave them to us. Her two small children, a boy and a girl (about 5 and 3, if I was guessing) sat down across from us. She then dumped a pile of shelled nuts on the floor and used a handmade nut cracker to crack all of them, which she then insisted we eat. She was giving us such amazing hospitality, even though they clearly didn't have a lot to give. We waited and Pallavi made conversation using hand gestures. Pallavi even went to the car and got some Indian candies we were carrying and gave them to the kids. Finally, the husband came home, and shook our hands, and sweetly shook his kids and his wife's hands. He spoke a bit of English, and from that we learned that it gets very cold in the mountains, even snowing up to 2 feet in the winter, but the cave, as he called it, was very warm. We also learned he has 9 children! 8 boys and the one girl who sat across from us. 

They then invited us for lunch, which we kindly refused. The family was poor, but they seemed happy, sweet, and weren't wanting for food. Finally, we got to the carpet buying. We found a beautiful carpet that we loved, and bought it. After we left, we thought, they say carpet buying is an experience, and this certainly was an experience we'll never forget. 

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.