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!