Sumbawa to Flores (Indonesia)

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this post, go here.

April 10^th, 2009 -  So the omniscient Lonely Planet indicated that the ferry to Flores will probably leave around 8 am. The guy at the hotel said it would be 9 am. The ticket office did not open until around 8:30 am. I was told the ferry would leave at 10 am. We did not get started until 12 pm. They had to wait for diesel in order to refuel. An excellent way to start an eight hour journey. I am sitting in business class because frankly I’m worth it.

The bench seats are padded and there are air conditioners on the wall. They do not work worth a shit but what I can I expect for an extra $1.50? I’ve spent most of the time hanging in economy class because it is open on the sides to fresh air, 'fresh' as in soaked in diesel fumes.

There are different fares for adults, children, vehicles, cargo, and animals. A horse, a buffalo, or a cow will run you an extra ten dollars each. A sheep, goat, or pig about half that. I saw a rat running around business class. Not sure what the charge is for Mickey.

Why did the chicken cross the road? This question has never had such poignancy for me until I started riding a motorcycle across Indonesia. ‘To get to the other side’ does seem to answer the question superficially but does not adequately explain their motivation. What is it about a road that requires these renegades to risk life and limb for such little reward? Do they realize that eventually they will have to make the return journey? Are they adrenaline junkies with a thirst for danger or just degenerate retards? Why do you do this you stupid muther f****ers?! When someone asked Edmund Hillary why he wanted to climb Everest his response was simply, “Because it's there”. If we could ask these daredevil chickens would they have a similar response? I think they might.

Komodo National Park (Indonesia)

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April 15^th, 2009 -  Yesterday I finished a three day boat tour of Komodo National Park . It is a magnificent area. I am seriously losing track of time but I think it has been about five days since I've written anything.

I arrived in Flores (the town of Labuanbajo) at night on the 10th. Many of the cheaper places were booked so I chose to live it up for $40 a night. And now that I am used to this hotel it is difficult to go back to budget. In Labuanbajo there is crappy and really nice, but no in between. There is also the added benefit of having a safe place for the motorcycle. This hotel on the beach about 2 km out of town. The town itself has a sort of quasi-charm but is not particularly memorable.

There is a hotel employee here named Benny that exudes personality. He is extremely nice and helpful, one of those individuals that you are compelled to like. His smile is completely disarming. He keeps calling me Eric and I haven’t the heart to tell him he’s mistaken.

Luckily, I’ve found a traveling companion for this part of the trip, a Swedish guy also traveling solo. We bumped into each while waiting for the ferry from Sumbawa to Flores. It is nice for a change to have someone to help relieve the burden of decision making.

We spent most of the day of the 11th researching our Komodo trip. The day was filled with difficult Englonesian language conversations, price negotiations, and boat inspections down by the harbor. I even had appointments with potential captains at my hotel. We were all business.

In the end we went with Captain Rudy, a recommended operator listed in the Lonely Planet. He spoke almost no English whatsoever so the initial phone conversation was a real treat. I did paste together enough Indonesian to get him to my hotel so it worked out.

Deep Panic (Komodo National Park, Indonesia)

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April 17^th, 2009 - Yesterday was a bad day. It should not have been, but it was. How can someone have a bad day scuba diving in Komodo National Park, one of the best dive sites in Indonesia, if not the world? I’ve come to a realization: me, scuba diving, and strong underwater currents do not mesh. When I really exert myself while trying to breathe underwater I find my breathing becomes quite labored. 

How can I describe the feeling? Put on a snorkel and mask. Run quickly up about twelve flights of stairs. Sprinkle in a moderate to severe impending sense of doom. Breathe normally. At one point the endeavor resembled a sort of underwater rock climbing exercise, as we were moving from one rock to another against the current. That can get exhausting. But hey, I did get to see an eagle ray, a ghostpipe fish, a crocodile fish, a few rare nudibranchs, etc. Normally, I would have been ecstatic to see these things (especially the eagle ray) but at that moment my focus was on avoiding panic and a loss of bowel control.

The situation was exacerbated by the fact that there were some other more experienced divers on the trip. I was afraid that I would force everyone to surface prematurely. Luckily, our guide can breathe underwater for days on one tank. He is quite remarkable on air consumption and allowed me to utilize the spare regulator attached to his tank. So after sucking air like a crack whore fiending for a fix I was forced to basically piggy back on the divemaster (literally). I felt like a baby manatee refusing to leave the protection of its mother’s side. Awesome. My self-esteem may need an adjustment.

So my dream of becoming a divemaster has taken a hit. Looks like I will have to revisit my backup plan. Does anyone have a connection with the New York Ballet? Time to dust off my leg warmers.

Inielika & Wogo (Flores, Indonesia)

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April 19^th, 2009 - I drove from Labuanbajo on the coast to the town of Bajawa with a sleep over in Ruteng along the way. The drive is perfect for a motorcycle. Scenic, lots of curves, and relatively smooth.

The day I arrived in Bajawa a marching band came parading down the street. I have no idea why. I don't want to know. I love random.

I hired a guide that took me to a small volcano (Inielika) and a traditional Ngada village. Since I was solo Alfonse (my guide) jumped on the back of my motorcycle and we headed off.

The path to the volcano began in a small village behind a church (Flores, unlike mostly Muslim Indonesia, is predominately Roman Catholic). The trek was very mild and took only an hour and a half to reach the volcano over relatively flat terrain. Along the way I saw some big-ass bamboo (I believe that’s the scientific name) and had Alfonse stand beneath it for perspective. Inielika erupted in January of 2001 spilling a bit of lava, charring some of the trees in the crater, and dusting Bajawa with a light smattering of ash. Right now it is quiet and I was afforded the opportunity to frolic inside the crater. Anytime I have the chance to frolic in a volcano I take it. You should do likewise.

Mosquito Massacre 2009 (Ende, Indonesia)

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April 20^th, 2009 - Where shall I begin? The truth is I am human. And although I am usually good about functioning in the developing world sometimes the frustration sets in. Lately, I’ve been letting it get to me. I am not proud of it but it is true. The language barrier does not help although I am starting to believe that even if I spoke perfect Indonesian there would still be a fair amount of confusion. 

I need a boat, actually a ferry to be precise. I would rather hop a ferry and land somewhere in the vicinity of Bali than drive across three islands and hop three ferries…..again. I don’t mind the driving but doing the same route twice is much less interesting. So I go to the government run passenger service (PELNI) office. The Lonely Planet describes them as ‘helpful’. The first gentleman I spoke with wanted nothing to do with me as he spoke no English and had little interest in interpreting my broken Indonesian. The second guy was only slightly more motivated. They have boats that go all over but they carry only passengers, not vehicles. When asked about boats to Bali, Lombok, or Java the reply was simply ‘No’. Very helpful.

There is a boat. I know there is a f***ing boat. I’ve read about it. It goes to Surabaya in Java which is not exactly Bali but close enough. So I decide to drive down to the harbor to see about buying a ticket. I drove up and down the same street three times. F U Lonely Planet!!!! I did find the harbor. Outside the entrance are two little shops with signs for the boats Dharma II and Dharma Recana, leaving from Ende (where I am) to Surabaya (where I kind of want to be). I stop and inquire. I discover that the boat (s) does not leave from nor does it pass through Ende. For that I must go to Maumere. Okay. Not a big deal as Maumere is on my itinerary. In a fact I was fairly sure that would be the place for departure anyway. I was investigating in Ende just to be safe, although I was fairly certain a boat did leave from here. And then there was the sign that confirmed it. They might want to take down the sign but, then again, who the hell am I to criticize?

Kelimutu National Park (Flores, Indonesia)

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So I left Ende and headed farther east to a small village nestled in the mountains by the name of Moni. As has been the case throughout Flores the road weaved through mountain landscapes via switchbacks and forty-five degree turns. A truck load of fun on a motorcycle.

There is not much in the town of Moni itself, rather it is the nearby volcano that draws visitors. The three crater lakes of Kelimutu (pronounce Kelly-moo-too) are truly a sight to see. Not only are each of the lakes a different color, the colors actually change with time. While I was there the colors included turquoise, dark green, and black.

The change in hues is attributed to the dissolution of minerals in the water or a mischievous wizard living in the hills nearby. Past colors include blue, maroon, and varying shades of brown.