This travel tale is one of escaping the winter chills. With temperatures topping out about 13 degrees at home, the idea of 28 degrees and tropical conditions isn’t hard to make a reality. It’s a combo of some travel and some surf – everyone’s a winner! About a year ago, while we were in the Maldives, the wonders of the internet stalkers prompted me to check out Nemberala Beach on the Island of Rote.

It’s in the far east of the wide string of islands that make up Indonesia, right next to Timor. If only we could fly from Darwin direct to Rote. It would only take about 45 minutes.

So Rote will take care of the surf, and we will make our way there via the island of Flores (home of Komodo Dragons), spending a week travelling from Labuan Bajo in the west, to Ende, which will cover about half of Flores. So it will be Flores first, then to Nemberala Beach on Rote, and finish off with a few days at Uluwatu in Bali. This is one big long post, so keep on scrolling.

Flying Garuda, we weren’t surprised to be departing late. Nor that the inflight service was really, really slow. But you can’t be unhappy with their baggage allowance when you want to go on a surfing holiday. A generous 30kg each, and no extra charge for surfboards, of which we have six to keep us company. No matter that the sign on the back of the seat says, “Live Vest under your seat”. Perhaps it will save itself! 

Arriving late into Denpasar, we stayed at a hotel near the airport and then headed back there in the morning, weaving our way through the back of the field of some 6000 runners finishing their Bali Marathon. So not a really fast trip.

Checking in to the next flight to Labuan Bajo, we were informed that our surfboards wouldn’t fit on the small plane they use for this route. Now this wasn’t good news, as a surfing holiday isn’t always a winner without the surfboards. But we took the chance and begged to have them try to load the boards. It was nice to sit in the departure lounge looking out to our plane and see the baggage handlers quite easily fit the boards in the hold. Crisis averted.

For our trip across Flores, we have engaged a guide (Ben) to show us around, with a van big enough for us and the 6 surfboards. We stayed at a hotel on the beach and had a relaxing afternoon playing Big Chess by the pool while adjusting to minimal internet access

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Dragon Day

It was a 5 o’clock departure (ughh) to get to the local harbour and find the boat that would chug all the way to Komodo Island. This is a four-hour trip, give or take.

Ben said he thought it was better in a slow boat because you could spend time appreciating the scenery during the trip. Below is the boat we travelled on – the one with the green deck.

After about 2.5 hours, we pretty much weren’t on board with the slow boat idea as we watched plenty of other visitors buzz past us in fast boats. They would be home a long time before us.

Due to currents and winds, we went to Rinca Island first, then Komodo after that. A local ranger greeted us at each island and led us through the forest for an hour or so. We saw several Komodo Dragons at each place – in addition to the guaranteed sightings outside the Ranger’s kitchen window from which the food scraps are thrown.

They are seriously prehistoric looking creatures. (check out the tongue) They certainly aren’t scared of humans, and once they reach about 15 years of age, they have no predators. Up until then, they will eat each other (yes!) along with the less cannibalistic options of deer, pig, buffalo – pretty much any meat they can get their huge claws into. And perhaps a human too, as we meet the carnivore brief. Their saliva is brim full of enemy bacteria, so it was best to stay behind our trusty Ranger Guide who brandished a fork shaped stick (really?) for our defence. Below is a photo of a dragon bearing the battle scars of a previous encounter with a fellow dragon who was also hungry.

They generally eat once a month. I guess if I ate a whole buffalo then I might not eat for a month too.

There were plenty of pigs around. Also deer were wandering about, and sometimes relaxing on the beach. As you do when you are a deer.

We spotted a green python – below – on one of the trails. I thought it was rather clever of the guides to see it in a dry river bed as it’s actually quite small. Eventually they let on that these pythons tend to stay in one place for several days, and today wasn’t Day 1. So not quite the discovery we first thought.

On the way back to Flores Island we stopped at Pink Beach. We’re still not sure why they call it pink. As far as we could tell, there was nothing pink about it. But…the snorkelling was good. We did a short drift along the beach and saw some great coral and plenty of colourful fish. It’s a well-worn circuit for the boat charters with heaps of fast, slow and live-aboard boats jostling for moorings here.

You can see how arid the country is around here. Not at all tropical looking on Komodo Island. There were only a few palms and other trees, with dry savannah grass.

It was a long chug back to Labuan Bajo. Whilst snorkelling, John saw the size of our propeller. He likened it to an egg beater. On the 3 hour trip back, the rudder cable broke, which the crew managed to fix over about half an hour whilst we bobbed around in the choppy seas.

We all felt the “still on a rocking boat” giddiness you get after a trip like that for a couple of days.

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Eastbound travel.

Heading out from Labuan Bajo, we found the road winding up high into the hillside. I started to wonder if we would ever start going down. The vegetation became quite lush and green as we progressed. Looking back, it feels like we were always driving up steep winding roads, or down steep winding roads. No wonder the rice fields were terraced so often.

 

We stopped and visited the Mirror Cave. Inside there’s a fossilised fish way up here in the hills, which sets the mind wondering about the ocean levels and the volcanoes and earthquakes around these islands.

The cave was huge, and especially adventurous as we were the only people there. Sort of felt like we had discovered it. We figure you have to come in the wet season to see mirrors of images in pools of water. Never mind. We did see the fossil. (sorry no photo – it just doesn’t look like a fossilised fish, but it really was there. Trust me.)

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Wedding Party.

It is the custom here when a Muslim wedding has taken place that the bride is escorted by her (rather large) family and friends to her new husband’s house (to become part of his family) and greeted by a similar sized group of men. The photo above is the truck load of the wife’s crew arriving with her. The music was pumping out from the speaker. We had passed the new home she was destined for quite a while before we saw the bride’s truck. It would be a long ride jammed in the back – or on the roof – of the truck. I think the process is called “poda” in Indonesian, which means “The Drop”.

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A Different kind of Spider Web.

Ben took us to Cancur to see an amazing sight where they grow their rice in a Spider Web pattern. Each family in the village gets a wedge of the pie to grow their rice.

It was a pretty impressive valley with views in all directions from our vantage point.

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The Hobbit.

In 2003, a team of archeologists (Australian and Indonesian) found the remains of an individual called a “hominini” in the Liang Bua cave here in Flores. Not surprisingly, it is called Homo Floresiensis. They think the bones are 700,000 years old. But then, some other references say it’s 80,000 years old. Let just say “really old”. They call it The Hobbit and if standing, he (she?) would only be 110cm tall. If he was still around – I wouldn’t be the shortest anymore.

They’ve stopped digging now because they ran out of money. They filled in the big hole (7m deep) and maybe one day they’ll start again.

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Local Life.

Plenty to share on this topic….

The people of Flores are just lovely. Very friendly, helpful and polite. Tourism here is pretty new. They haven’t learnt to rip people off yet – and I hope they never do. We took lots of photos of them, and no-one ever asked for money. The cute kids didn’t come racing after us begging for gifts. And our guide, Ben, never took us to places in order to get kickbacks.

The photo below was a lady we were passing on our way to the Spider web rice field. She was pounding coffee beans. Slowly but surely, she made it finer, sieved the powder, then pounded again.

I’ve had plenty of coffee here in Flores. I started with a pessimistic attitude: Asia and coffee – they don’t usually go together well. So I was very pleased to find the coffee here just great. Many families grow it here with the trees intermixed with their banana and macadamia nut trees. Plus lots of other fruit trees and cocoa beans too.

They lay the coffee beans, cocoa beans and the macadamias out on large tarps beside the road to dry in the sun.

Everyone seems to be doing a bit of everything, whether they live by the road or at the bottom of the valley, far from the traffic.

Our boys are like a magnet to the local kids sometimes. And they always want a photo with us. Sometimes they ask to see the pic, but sometimes they just skip off afterwards.

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Diesel Drought

Whilst travelling through Flores, we stopped constantly at petrol stations to see if they had any diesel, which they usually didn’t. But a few minutes down the road, you can always buy a bottle from an enterprising local at an inflated price.

Above is one such roadside stall. These are common in Indo. But the vendor must have nicked home for lunch and left it unattended. What I like about this is that he has secured his larger sized booty with a shoe lace. And even better, no-one touches his merchandise while he was away. We moved on to another “stall” to top up our tank.

The shortage of diesel is a result of some inherent corruption here. There was an election on in the next few days, and somehow, someone looks bad when fuel becomes unavailable. After the election the supply flow returned to normal.

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Moving east.

We stayed overnight in Ruteng and then moved on to visit Lake Ranamese.

This pretty lake, fed by springs, is 21m deep and in a crater at 1220m elevation. Apparently there are wild macaques in the lush forest around the lake, but we didn’t spot any. There’s also a nice water fall, where John bombed my photo.

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Along the way….

We stopped pretty often to stretch our legs. The roads here are mainly sealed, but very narrow, and not terribly well maintained. Hence drawing to a walking pace to negotiate any pothole. A 30km drive could take over an hour.

The views were fantastic as we had good elevation most of the time.

Road side stops were always interesting…….

Here’s a family of three generations waiting to sell a bottle of diesel……

And there’s never a shortage of cute kids to beg for their photo to be taken…

 

Everyone who has travelled in Asia will have a collection of photos with the locals carrying weird and wonderful loads on the back of motor bikes. I saw this huge carton, topped off by a baby bath…just in case you need one.

Next, it was a car with an unusual load on the roof – dead chickens.

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Indonesian Moonshine.

They’re not so big on alcohol here. Forget having a wine in the evening. If it’s actually available, it will be $60+ for a bottle. Best to stick to the Bintang. Unless you live in Aimere,  right on the beach, where the people in this village are permitted to make “arak”. This is 40% alcohol palm wine. It tastes rather like rocket fuel and not at all like wine.

It’s the only income source for this village, and all the families here have their own distillery set up. They climb each palm tree (or as our guide says – “palum” tree) and drain fluid from each flower head into a bucket. The bucket will fill in less than a day. Then they boil it over small kiln like fires – below…. and condense it via the long bamboo pipes.

As the condensed alcohol runs down the bamboo pipe, it’s collected in some custom plastic bottles…

The fire wood stack was impressive. But when it’s stacked up next to the satellite dish, it  makes you shake your head……below.

The village is spread over a compact area with the standard collection of pigs, chooks, cows and the occasional dog.

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Living the Old Way.

When we were on our way to visit a traditional village, we assumed it wouldn’t be that different from the towns we had passed through so far. But when we rounded a bend in the road and saw the old village of Bena laid out on the hillside in front of us, we were wide-eyed for sure.

Bena is over 1000 years old and the villagers live a simple life. We were fascinated by the meagre lifestyle they have. They welcome visitors to wander through their “street”. We were requested to ask before taking their photos and not to give them any money.

Everything about this place has a story or a meaning or a purpose, and plenty of history behind it. They do make some things to sell to visitors, although I didn’t buy anything. Not so sure how my coffee would taste in the bamboo mug….

Above – vanilla beans for sale, and bamboo mugs and coconut bowls. There were only two houses selling these. We certainly didn’t get hassled with “morning price for you madam”. The women do weaving, and the design is different for each clan.

It takes about a month to make each piece. They are very stiff, so not really good as a scarf or shawl. More of a table runner kind of thing.

Above – some use natural dyes from the local environment, and some of the bright ones are with thread they purchase.

Apart from the weaving, not much else goes on here. The men tend the fields nearby where they grow vegetables and rice. And they have plenty of ceremonies. They are Catholic, but seem to have numerous extra beliefs and gods to worship.

Below….Right on the top of the roof, most houses have a figure – all different – which keeps the bad spirits away…….

Just one more pic of this very serene and ancient place………

Bena sits in the shadow of Mt. Inerie, a semi-active volcano – below…

Not a bad view.

We stayed in a funky guest house just near Bena, with art work all around – paintings of Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, a GT Holden, and many others. The restaurant had a mix of Indo food alongside schnitzel or fish and chips. A bit odd up here in the hills many miles from anywhere!

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Market Stop.

With little refrigeration, the local market is the place to buy your veg…daily, but also gives the locals an income and a social hub. I’ve always loved the colour and variety of such a market.

This lovely young girl (below) asked me to take her photo. She squealed with excitement when she saw my pic, and asked me if she was beautiful. Which I think she certainly is!

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More Ancient Villages

After our visit to Bena, we soon found that these traditional villages are scattered throughout the region. We visited two more – Wodogo and Saga. The locals don’t live in all of these old villages anymore, (as they do in Bena) swapping the old life for the modern style. Or maybe they combine – like the one below where these traditional houses are placed around the central square where the electricity poles feeds power lines in all directions. They have sat dishes for TV too.

We met a lady here who spoke excellent English which she had learnt from speaking to tourists. She showed us around her traditional village and took us inside her own house. She cooks on a kerosene stove top and has a kerosene oven. The thing I noticed the most was the poor lighting. Even with electricity here in this village, they had only a single light inside this very dark house.

At Wodogo village, we saw some other non-Indonesian tourists. This was a big surprise as we have barely seen any other white people along our trip. Tourism here is still so new, and getting further than Komodo Island is a novelty. Last year, out of 110,000 tourists to Flores, only 17,000 were foreign.

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Blue or Green?

We enjoyed a yummy seafood lunch at the beach at Pengga Jawa. The beach gets a mention as it has black sand and green stones. I souvenired quite a few to make something creative back home. (now we have “the bags of rocks” aka – my wheelie bag). They match our pool tiles, which incidentally also come from Indonesia. If I researched the cause of the green colour, I’m guessing it would relate to the volcanic activity here. But we have other things to do here – and absolutely woeful WiFi access, if any. So no research.

 

So, blue or green?

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Rice for Life.

At one of our regular stops along the way, we came across a family threshing their rice on the side of the road. They don’t own a thresher, so just borrow it from one of the few who do own one.

Growing rice is part of nearly everyone’s life here – kids included. They all help with cultivating, planting, tending, harvesting and threshing. As our guide says – “we are nothing if we don’t have rice”.

Above – this young boy carries a huge bag of rice across the terraces to the road to be threshed before going to market.

Above – this is the very new seedling rice, almost ready to be planted out in the fields, growing right alongside the brown, mature plants.

Above – another super pic of the smiling people of Flores, so happy to show us their lifestyle. And SO excited to see themselves in a photo!

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Coloured Craters.

We passed through the city of Ende, which is the capital of Flores. It was very quiet in this city of 200,000. Today was a public holiday as the election was taking place, so many shops and businesses were closed, and best of all – the traffic was minimal! Although I must say, there is virtually no road rage here in Flores. Despite numerous practices that Australians would go nuts over (like “parking” on the road, or overtaking even if something is coming toward you….  the locals here just keep on cruising. No stress.

On to Moni – about 50km away. So we’re talking at least a couple of hours driving. Moni is at the foot of Mt. Kelimutu, a dormant volcano of 1690m elevation. As this is a major tourist attraction (and I use the term loosely), the town has several guest houses and restaurants. It’s the closest thing to a tourist town we have seen.

We stayed at Kelimutu Eco-Lodge. It’s one of a group of lodges built and owned by some Australians. They set up new lodges, then train the locals in hospitality and provide on-going employment for them. And they really are a little bit eco-friendly, providing no plastic drinking bottles. Yay! You can fill up with clean water in the dining area using your own bottle. From little things…….

Kelimutu Volcano is famous for its’ three craters, filled with water, that change colour. They may be green, blue and brown. Or they can change to black, yellow and pink.

What an epic trip to the summit it ended up being. Someone (and I’d love to know exactly who) decided it was a good idea to see the sunrise from the top of Kelimutu. Consequently, all the visitors get up at stupid o’clock and head off at 4.30am (ridiculous) for the 45 minute drive up to the start of the walking track. It had rained nearly all night, and the mist was heavy and low. But off we went anyway. It wasn’t until after we had left, that Ben told us there were road works on the way up, and we might not get through the slippery mud. Oh great. I love getting up at 4.15am to go for a drive and slide back down the mountain to bed again.

And then we stopped. We were 4^th in a line of cars, stationery in the dark, while the first one had spinning wheels in the slippery slush of the muddy surface that covered an otherwise hard base of rock. We jumped the queue and headed up next, struggling through the tight hairpin bends. It took two hours to get to the car park. By now it was daylight. So much for the sunrise over the craters!

We headed off on the walking trail to the top, ready to be dazzled by the view…..

Mmmm.

We stayed there at the summit for half an hour. Freezing. Clearly didn’t bring the down jacket to Indo.

We walked back down to a saddle and waited. And waited. Getting hungry by now.

And then the wind took the cloud away with it, and the spectacular view just jumped out at us…..just like that.

No pink and black and yellow for us, but these blue/green craters were just beautiful.

John and Ferg ran back to the highest point for more views. Because they can.

Then it was time to drive back through the mud. After plenty of slipping, including ending up with our van sliding sideways across the road and blocking traffic both ways, we made it past the road works and on to solid ground. Breakfast was good. The eggs were hot and the coffee was good.

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Ending in Ende.

We drove back to Ende and had a few hours to catch up on email and communicate with the world. The internet was frustratingly slow. We’re not addicted to being connected, but it’s become a reality that we live our lives in a connected kind of way. Gone are the days of collecting letters via Poste Restante and making reverse charge calls home from the post office to let your mum and dad know you are okay. Or even where in the world you are!

Today was the day after the election and the locals were having parades in the streets to celebrate the win of their favourite politician. It was a bit like a mardi gras parade, but with more clothes on.

Ben took us to see the house where Indonesia’s first president, Mr.Soekarno, lived in exile during a re-takeover by the Dutch in the 1950s. It remains unchanged since then. But I reckon it’s had a paint job.

It wasn’t very interesting. Not least because it was closed due to the celebration parade for the election. But we did stand outside it while the locals stared at the blonde boys from Australia.

We left Ende in the morning for our flight to Kupang in Timor. We thanked the lovely Ben and our driver, Ides, for showing us this beautiful island.

Next post – our week on Rote Island.