nasty sharp pointy teeth
labuanbajo is the port on the west coast of flores. at first glance, it looks like a pretty grotty little industrial harbour, but watching the sun set with a beer from the terrace of a hilltop bar, you can see myriad rocky islands protruding from the clear water as small fishing boats lazily amble around, and you realise that it's actually rather a beautiful place.
i was here to chill out, and to go and see the komodo dragons. these huge lizards exist only on the two islands of komodo and rinca. the former has the name, but the latter has a higher density of dragons and a lower density of tourists, plus is closer and cheaper to get to, so was an obvious choice. initially i was having a bit of a mare, as i could see no other tourists, so it looked like i was going to have to charter a boat on my own ($30!). eventually however i ran into, or rather ran myself into, some rather lovely people (hi edd, mary, robert and wouter), so it was a happy group of us that set sail in the morning. the fishing boat looked a touch rickety, but the sea was calm so there weren't any problems.
we arrived at rinca, and the first thing that greeted us was a 2m long dragon lazing on the little wooden harbour. now they're supposed to leave humans alone, but i had to wonder why this particular beast was waiting here... an easy lunch maybe? we were all having similar thoughts until our amused captain poked it with a stick and it stomped off placidly enough. i would have felt like a bit of a pussy, but the things are fucking huge and mean looking, with menacing claws, so i maintain my right to have been wary.
we got to the rangers post and found ourselves a guide. a nice chap, he seemed to delight in telling us that komodos killed a couple of villagers every year, and that in a particularly gruesome manner. as we trekked into the interior of the island, i was fascinated but pensive.
rinca is incredibly dry and arid... as such, the dragons are frighteningly well camouflaged: i almost stumbled into one lazing under a tree, which would have been a spectacularly silly idea. we saw quite a few, and they are truly amazing beasts, primitive, imposing, sharp and pointy in a variety of worrying places, and possessing an almost visceral beauty. one tried to kick off with a huge water buffalo but gave up, another couple thought about having a scrap before both backing down... they might be big, but they're lazy as hell in the heat.
after two hours we'd seen our fill and were sweaty but happy. on the journey back we stopped on a secluded beach to have a little paddle and a snorkel in the clear green waters... secluded until a boat of excitable school kids turned up. cue all the usual questions, a barrage of photos, and a hasty exit.
we could see labuanbajo in the distance and everything was going swimmingly... until it got a bit grey. and we couldn't see the port anymore. and it started raining. then lightning. then thunder. it was at this point that i realied just how flimsy our little vessel was, and the captain wasn't helping matters by being very clearly lost. as rain lashed in from one side, and the choppy waves got closer and closer on the other, i was wet, bedraggled, and more than a little worried.
finally the captain got his act together and the harbour loomed into view. i leapt off the boat, absolutely drenched but happy. i'd seen dragons, been shit scared on the sea during a monsoon thunder storm, and generally achieved for the day.
kelimutu
ever since my legendary sis bought me my virgin se asia lonely planet (thanks old fruity!) i have been entranced by the three coloured volcanic lakes of kelimutu. even as a precocious eighteen year old i was determined that this was one natural wonder i had to see in person: the lakes are pretty much the sole reason that i've trekked out this far east to flores.
arriving in ende, it was clear that i'd left the relative ease and safety of bali and lombok far behind. there were no other travellers, no touts to hassle me, but also noone who quite knew what to do with me. it was the first time i appreciated just what a good idea it has been to pick up some bahasa, as it was my pidgin local speech that saw me onto the right bus to moni, via the terminal. the terminal gave me my first taste of the difficulties of travel in flores: buses are always there for you to get on, but they will not leave until the driver deems them to be full. so, you just sit sweltering in the bus and praying other people show up, for hours. literally. at first i thought i was being a naive tourist, but it soon became clear that this was the norm, as all the locals settled in for what they knew was going to be the long haul. three hours later, we finally got going. again, my fledgling bahasa was invaluable, as i was able to field all the basic questions asked of me. the people were really friendly once they could communicate with me, and i was showered with offers of cigarretes, nasi campur and jackfruit.
i eventually arrived at moni, the village at the base of the kelimutu volcano, at about one. i checked in to a hovel (homely, the lp would call it) and asked about getting up to the top for sunrise. it was a good thing i did ask then, as i was told it rained in the mornings, and it was generally too cloudy to see anything until midday. a look up to the peak suggested it was clear then so, having gone straight from a ferry onto a bus, i got straight on the back of an ojek to be taken up to the top (there isn't a decent trail, so it's not worth hiking).
you have to walk the last few kilometres to the viewpoint, on the highest point of the ridge that bisects the crater. when i finally arrived, all the rigours of my journey seemed totally worth it. the lakes are one of the most eerily beautiful sights you can ever witness: it's not just the variety, but also the intensity, of each of the colours that is breathtaking. from emerald green, to an intense brown, to a darker, clearer, green, the juxtaposition of vibrant colours, coupled with the amazing views of the surrounding countryside put a broad grin on my face that i still haven't quite been able to shake. if it is too wet and cloudy to trek up gunung rinjani i won't care: for a final indonesian volcano it's hard to believe that kelimutu can be bettered.
i spent the evening stumbling through my french with a couple from toulouse, and drinking more bizarre local wine. i retired to my room, to pack some things up: when i went to pick up a plastic bag it moved, and a tiny mouse jumped out and scampered across my bed and into some hole! the poor thing must have been petrified when i started crashing around, but it made me jump some too.
i did wake up at 4am the next day in the hope of a clear morning, but there was drizzle and a dank greyness pervading the air. so, after yet another banana pancake, i got on the bus to ruteng. the journey was ok, bar the obligatory deafening music: for some reason, people on flores love their country music. it was bizarre, trundling along forest tracks in an antiquated bus, surrounded by happy indos singing 'country roads, take me home' at the tops of their voices.
as i headed back west to ruteng, i realised that kelimutu was as far east as i was going: after this, lombok, bali, new zealand, the states, all steps back to normality, to erasing the space of orientalised difference i've been occupying for so long now. it's as if i've reached a peak in my journey and, as i literally headed west, i was figuratively taking a much more significant step back home. it's amazing what kind of crap you end up thinking about when you're trying to block out dolly parton!
boatilicious
the first thing i realised when i arrived at lembar port to catch my ferry was that it was going to be late, and there was no way of knowing how late. the second thing i realised was that i was the sole non-indonesian around. brown skin gets me out of this scrape occasionally, but my huge backpack always endeavours to drop me right back in it. for the first half hour people slowly walked past me, peering in that peculiarly unsubtle asian way (we call it staring) and trying to work me, and my bag, out. as soon as one chap finally came up and hallo mistered me, the floodgates opened. once he'd used his five minutes of english vocab up he strolled off, only to be replaced immediately by another grinning indo, armed with identical questions, and identical disbelief. i'm not quite sure how to answer 'where you from' anymore: if i say england they don't believe me, and if i say india they, er, still don't believe me, so i think i'm going to get a bit more imaginative and try mars, or something like that. either way, i have come to accept the fact that, in bahasa at least, my name is beckham.
this indonesian inquisition continued for the four hours we were waiting. the girls used to just walk past but never actually approach me, the guys worked on a rota system, coming and sitting down whenever the seat next to me was free (rarely), and young children just gaped at me, like i was some kind of sideshow freak. still, it certainly wasn't dull, although, when combined with the worry of when my ferry was going to arrive, it was exhausting.
when it finally turned up it was that happy south east asian hybrid: a relatively solid, modern looking vehicle, reduced to an appearance of shambolic perilousness by the sheer number of people crammed onto it. camped on decks, in cabins, in the information booth, wherever there was space basically, would be hordes of happy indos, all bedecked with their standard accoutrements of travel: reed mattresses, live chickens, stinking jackfruit, and everything else in between.
still, my forty hours was quite good fun. as well as all my friends from the port, i ran into, yet more, lovely swiss germans (hey moritz, sam und anna), and whiled away the time with them until they departed at waingapu. it was my first experience of a boat trip that long, and i saw some amazing things: outcrops of volcanic rock jutting out of the sea, a couple of schools of dolphins cavorting right by the boat, a shooting star, and, most surreally, an ethereal night rainbow. arcing in and out of the sabu sea, faintly visible against the night sky, this ghost of a rainbow was presumably caused by the moonlight, and was a phenomenon i'd never even heard of, let alone seen.
so i was in quite good spirits when i arrived in ende, on flores, early in the morning. it didn't take long to work out that i wasn't in kansas anymore.
come on!
in about four hours i'm going to embark on an epic forty five hour ferry trip across nusa tenggara, from lembar in lombok to ende in flores. i have no idea if the ferry is spacious and well equipped, or a glorified, hole ridden, fishing boat, but i cannot wait to get on it regardless. it's become increasingly evident to me in the last three days, as i've been waiting for my departure, that i must be the most impatient person conceivable: if i'm not actively doing something all the time i get very bored, very quickly. even the glorious beaches at senggigi could not stop my itchy feet kicking in.
still, if i manage to squeeze in everything i'd like to in indonesia, the next few weeks are going to be sublimely hectic... maybe i'll appreciate this hiatus in the near future. i had no idea i could sleep so much: whenever i wake up i know that, if required, i can get up and achieve things, but equally if desired i can go straight back to sleep for as long as i'd like. that's the thing about travelling i suppose, you're always running a sleep deficit, especially if you're a fidgety sunrise obsessive, so your body gulps down what shut eye it can when it can. i just hope i got enough in the last three days to see me through the next three weeks.
