Indonesia and World Tourism News

Hayu ka Bandung (COME!! to Bandung)

Bandung is a city where the past meets the future and east meets west.  Bandung is center of government administration, a center of education and intellectual activity, traditional Sundanese culture, tourism, high-tech industry, commercial enterprise and fashion industry.  Growth in the last twenty years is everywhere to be seen, from new international-class hotels complexes to an increase in industries, towering office buildings and new residential ventures.  Bandung has claim to being one of the liveliest and most varied cosmopolitan cities in the entire Indonesian archipelago can hardly be questioned.

The international face of Bandung is evident everywhere you turn. Once a Dutch colonial commercial and administrative center, Bandung has felt the presence of foreigners through-out history; in fact, the city was first formally established on the orders of Dutch general in 1810.  One of the city’s proud claims is to internationality is that it was the venue of the Asia-Africa Conference in 1955; at which the influential Non-Aligned Movement was founded. 

Presently, a large foreign community numbering in the thousands contributes to the cosmopolitan atmosphere for which Bandung has long been known; that’s known as “The Paris of Java”.  Their number and national diversity are apparent in social and sports clubs and hal a dozen international schools.  Aside from this species of foreigner, there also a significant number who proudly consider Bandung their home.

An advantage of being a city in which many currents commingle is the variety of cultural activity in Bandung.  To begin with there is traditional Sundanese music of performance venue from neighborhood to five-stars hotel. In addition, international classical and jazz concerts, films, theater and graphics arts are brought to the city by such organizations as the Goethe Institute and French Cultural Center.

Colorful and lively, numerous early morning fruit and vegetables markets are scattered throughout the city and are the place to go for a really local shopping experience.  In contrast, there are plenty of supermarkets, most of which carry imported foods.  For other consumer items there is the flashy Bandung Indah Plaza, Bandung Super Mall.

Bandung is also known for its wealth of clothing outlets, attacting a huge number of visitors from surrounding cities (particularly from Jakarta), especially during weekends and holidays:
1 Denim clothing industry outlets along the street of Cihampelas.
2 Bandung has earned the nickname “Kota Wisata Belanja” - Shopping Tourist City - because of the many factory outlets which sell ex-export garment products.
3 Bandung is also known for its garment industry. Products that were made as export items that did not get exported are sold at cheaper price in outlets (in local speak: ‘factory outlet’) in Bandung, particularly along Jalan Ir. H. Juanda (Dago) and Jalan R.E. Martadinata (Riau).
4 There is also a flourishing shoe industry in Cibaduyut in southern Bandung.

Bandung is also famous for its food; it is well-known for its many contributions to the culinary world such peuyeum, batagor, comro, and the bajigur drink. Peuyeum is made from fermented sago. Batagor is an acronym for baso tahu goreng, literally translates to deep-fried fish/meatballs and tofu. Comro is an acronym for oncom di jero, which translates to oncom inside. Bajigur is a sweet traditional drink served warm, and is popular in the evenings as Bandung’s climate is more temperate than the rest of Indonesia.

The location of 700 m high in the West Java Highlands has the advantage not only of cool tropical climate but also of providing the perfect base for exploring the wonders of nature that begin on the doorstep.

Add comment February 28th, 2006

EXPLORE THE BEAUTY OF BOGOR

Bogor, 60 km south of Jakarta, is most famous for its botanical gardens. In the days before independence, however, this was the most important Dutch hill station, midway between the mountains and the heat-ridden plains. Governor-General van Imhoff is credited with its discovery in 1745. He built a large country estate which he named Buitenzorg (’Without a Care’), but it was not until 1811 that it was first used as a country residence by Sir Stamford Raffles, during the British interregnum, and not until many years later that Bogor became the semi-official capital.

Bogor has become an important centre for scientific research, including botany, agronomy and forestry. Though Bogor stands at a height of only 290 metres it’s appreciably cooler than Jakarta, but visitors in the wet season should bear in mind the town’s nickname: the ‘City of Rain’. Bogor has probably the highest annual rainfall in Java and is credited with a record 322 thunderstorms a year.

BOTANICAL GARDENS
At the heart of Bogor are the huge, world-class botanical gardens, known as the Kebun Raya (Great Garden) covering an area of around 80 hectares. They are said to be the inspiration of Governor-General Raffles, but the spacious grounds of the Istana Bogor (Presidential Palace) were converted to botanical gardens by the Dutch botanist Professor Reinwardt, with assistants from Kew Gardens (London, UK), and officially opened by the Dutch in 1817. It was from these gardens that various colonial cash crops such as tea, cassava, tobaco, and cinchona were developed by early Dutch researchers during the so-called Forced Cultivation Period in the 19th century. The park is still a major centre for botanical research in Indonesia.
The gardens contain streams and lotus ponds and more than 15,000 species of trees and plants, including 400 types of magnificent palms. The gardens’ orchid houses are reputed to contain more than 3000 orchid varieties and are open to the general public. Admission to orchid houses is Rp.1000. North of the main entrance to the gardens is a small monument in memory of Olivia Raffles, who died in 1814 and was buried in Batavia, and further north, near the palace, is a cemestry with Dutch headstones. The cafetaria on the eastern side of the gardens, has fine view across the lawns and is a pleasant place for a snack or drink.
The gardens are open between 8 AM and 5 PM and, although they tend to be crowded on Sundays; on others days they are a very peaceful escape from the hassles and crowds of Jakarta. The entrance fee is Rp.5000 on weekdays and Rp.4000 on Sundays and holidays. The southern gate is the main entrance, other gates are only open on Sundays and holidays.

ZOOLOGICAL MUSEUM
Near the botanical gardens’ main entrance , this museum has a motley but interesting collection of zoological oddities, including the skeleton of a blue whale and a stuffed Javan rhinoceros. If you ever heard about the island of Flores having a rat problem, one glance at the stuffed Flores version in the showcase of Indonesian rats will explain why. Admission to the museum is Rp.1000 and it’s open from 8 AM to 4 PM daily.

SAFARI PARK
Taman Safari Indonesia (Indonesian Safari Park) located at Cibeureum, Cisarua Bogor, West Java, was constructed in 1980. This location was a non productive tea plantation of about 136.5’s Ha. given by local Government Governor of West Java to the Oriental Circus to manage as Taman Safari Indonesia.
Taman Safari Indonesia, located in a Buffer Zone of Gunung Gede Pangrango National Park, stands at an elevation between 900-1,800 meters above sea level, with temperatures ranging between 16-27 degrees Celsius. Taman Safari was established as a National tourism Object by the Minister of Tourism, Post and Telecommunication, (Late) Mr.Soesilo Soedarman, and pronounced as Indonesian Centre for Reproduction of Endangered Wildlife (ICREW) and Ex-situ Conversation by the Minister of Forestry, Mr.Hasyrul Harahap at March, 16, 1990.
The location is between Jakarta and Bandung, around 80 km from Jakarta or 1.5-2 hours by car. While from Bandung, capital of West Java, about 78 km or 3 hours drive. If coming by public transport, from bus terminal, Jakarta (Kampung Rambutan) to Bandung, stop at Cisarua. From Cisarua continue by minibus or by public motor cycle, it takes only 15 minutes to arrive from there to Taman Safari Indonesia.
Taman Safari Indonesia was designed with two concepts in mind combining modern zoo tourism with an area of natural beauty, opened for the public in 1986, the animals collection in that year held about 250 animals from 100 different species. Ten years later, October 1995, the collection now has more than 2500 animals from 200 different species. More than 50% were born at Taman Safari, other wildlife have been entrusted by th Forestry Department (Directorate General PHPN/Forest Protection and Nature Conservation) the remainder entrusted from public or exchanged with wildlife from overseas zoos. Part of the wildlife collection at Taman Safari are protected species not only endemic in Indonesia, but also from the five continents. Some animals as endangered species, need special care to increase their population with captive breeding.
Like other zoos, Taman Safari has many programs. While we are a tourism site, we actively support conservation populations of endangered species and their habitat and facilitate the increase of scientific knowledge that will benefit conservation. And also promote and increased public awareness of conservation needs.
Taman Safari open daily between 9 AM and 5 PM. The entrance fee is Rp.25,000 for adult, Rp.20,000 for children (below 5 years old), bus Rp.15,000, and Rp.10,000 for vehicles.
Every Saturday night, Taman Safari also has night program called Night Safari, open from 7 PM to 9 PM. Admission to Night Safari is Rp.30,000 for adult, children (below 5 years old) Rp.25,000, bus Rp.15,000, and Rp.10,000 for vehicles.

Add comment February 28th, 2006

A Rinjani Ascent

It was 3am at 3000m above sea level and we had just been woken from our restless sleep by our guide. We were all feeling nervous from the anticipation of the climb ahead. A quick cup of tea and a muesli bar and we were off. Except for by brother Phil. I could see he was visibly upset. The cameraman was filming everything. Phil looked into the lens and told the world that he had to pull out. Holding back tears he explained that he just didn’t have any energy left and that he felt ashamed. He walked off and retired to his tent.

The summit of Gunung Rinjani stands at 3726m on the island of Lombok, Indonesia . The mountain itself is part of a series of massifs that form an enormous volcanic calderas. Lying within this calderas is a new semi active volcano, Gunung Baru. Forming a crescent around this new cone is Segara Anak which is a fresh water lake home to a multitude of Carp.

Our expedition began in a small village on the northern slopes of Rinjani. From our guest house we could see Rinjani’s summit and its long, angular ridge line. For all of us it was an imposing site. We were all climbing for various reasons. Some needed an adventure, others a challenge, while I was here filming the struggle the nine other trekkers would undertake to reach Rinjani’s summit. My brother Phil needed an adventure. He had a one year old at home and a pregnant wife with his second, so I guess (though I never have asked him) he needed something for himself, to relive a bygone day when he felt more important and to some extent his own person.

The first day from Senaru is a long and at times grueling climb through lush rain and cloud forests. Grey Macaques and Ebony monkeys swung through the forests canopy, pausing occasionally to spy on their unusual biped cousins below. Buttress roots gauged there way across the worn path frequently forming steps that were just a little higher than a natural stride. After 6 hours we had reached base camp three which stands approximately 500 vertical metres below the volcano’s rim. It was a difficult climb. Phil rested in his tent for most of the afternoon complaining of feeling weary and having sore knees.

By dinner time we were all starving so we scoffed the Nasi Goreng down with gusto. Phil took one mouth full and quickly ran off to the bushes to vomit. Repeatedly. Very loudly. It was like some enormous beast growling in the bushes. I went to comfort him and soon realised that we were standing in amongst a thicket of Stinging Nettle; an extremely painful weed that can takes days to clear up. Phil was oblivious to this as he was concentrating on his vomiting bear impersonation. I slowly backed us out of harms way and took Phil to his tent. In the moment of illness, of stomach cramps and sweating brows he mumbled to me that he couldn’t go on and that he wanted to head back to Senaru. I asked him to sleep on it and we would reassess it in the morning.

My restless sleep was broken by the sweet chirping of morning birds. I exited my tent to film the morning sites and sounds. The porters were already busying themselves with breakfast preparations while the trekker’s tents moaned, groaned and vibrated like enormous purple beetles. I slid into Phil’s tent to see how he was. Physically he remained weak and sore, but the feeling of defeat had waned and he was prepared to go on and see how he would do.

Another difficult climb awaited us, but we could see the rim of the crater and our spirits rose with every metre closer to it. Until midday, the air around Rinjani remains crystal clear and as we climbed we would pause to look behind us to see the awesome volcanoes of Bali rise from the sea. Then all of a sudden, that rock and grass that we had been looking at beneath our feet for the last two days fell away into one of the world’s most amazing gaping holes. The horizon flung itself 8 km from us as we walked up to the rim, witness to Segara Anak and Gunung Baru rising from its depths.

But more impressive than that was the summit of Gunung Rinjani. From our vantage point we could see what we had to do to get to the summit. We could see the camp site by the lake and the steep climb to base camp 4 on the other side of the calderas. And finally we could see the intimidating ridge climb all the way to the summit. From here we wondered how on earth we were going to get there. God knows what Phil was thinking. This would have been the last chance for him to turn around, as by the time we had reached the lake’s shore he would have been half way between the two towns that could offer him safety. I didn’t tell him this. He picked up his pack and led the expedition down the inside of the calderas to our camp for the night.

By the time we reached the lake camp several other trekkers started to feel the pain. One had a nasty fall on his way down though he escaped any real injuries. Others who were full of humour and spirit two days prior were more introspective, while another dehydrated himself and found himself vomiting uncontrollably. Phil remained composed, mustering all he had to continue the climb, wasting no energy on swimming or talking terribly much. The camp site itself was ideally perched on the top a small 5m cliff that over looked the lake and the tranquil scene before it. By mid afternoon the lake itself was hardly visible though we were only metres from it. The warmed low lands had shot cooler air up the valley into the lake, forming giant cloud banks that whirled and danced across the water in a mystical rhythm. The summit we had been eyeing off all day also vanished, so we all retired to some nearby thermal hot pools to soak our weary bodies. By dinner our spirits had lifted. We all slept well that night 2200m above sea level on the shores of our volcanic lake.

The following morning began exactly the same as the previous one. Birds chirped, porters prepared and tents moaned and groaned. But you couldn’t help feeling happy and excited waking up to banana pancakes, a hot cup of tea and a view rarely rivaled. The air was fresh and clean and our bodies felt like they were acclimatizing to the outdoor life. We rested until lunch, waiting for the clouds to come in before attempting to climb up the other side of the calderas to base camp 4. Without the clouds and the subsequent breeze, the climb would be stifling hot and almost unbearable. Phil started to feel better. He was holding his food down and after a massage from one of the other trekkers, his muscles and knees felt slightly better. He led out of camp once again, this time just carrying a day pack to conserve energy for the summit climb. Four others had passed their laden backpacks onto the porters as they too were still feeling the strain of the last few days. We filmed their bodies move up the slope, disappearing into the swift cloud banks like silhouetted spirits.

Most of the group made good progress. The terrain was rough, rocky and steep. The buttress roots that zigzagged across the path only two days prior were replaced by small boulders that once again forced us to step upward with unusually long strides. We focused our filming on one of the other trekkers this day. He was really struggling and as we climbed higher, swore that he could see elephants walking up the path. He staggered into camp several hours after the first had arrived, utterly spent. What I didn’t know was that Phil was fighting his own battle. His stomach cramps returned and his knees were aching from the climb up. He remained determined but I sensed defeat. It wasn’t anything he said, as the words coming out of his mouth were positive. It was the way he looked at the mountain. In fact he had been looking at the summit like that for a couple of days as if to say “You’re a lot bigger than I thought you were”.

The feeling around the camp was high. We were the only ones at base camp, and on this narrow cliff edge we had amazing views of the lake and by now the setting sun over Bali . We were above the clouds. We were at the place that would take some of us to the summit. We were all a bit nervous.

That night, while sitting by the camp fire, I could hear Phil quietly crying in his tent. He started to feel ill again and his knees were aching from the days climb. There was little I could do except sit there. We were due to leave camp in 6 or 7 hours, so I suggested he get some rest and we’ll reassess how he feels at 3am.

Most of the group had retired for the night. I checked and double checked the camera gear for the climb. I didn’t want to go to my tent too early as I knew I would lay there for hours wondering if everything would be alright, if anyone would pullout, if anyone would get hurt. I slid into the tent I was sharing with Phil at about 9pm . This was late, usually it was around 7pm . I convinced myself I was tired and ready for sleep. Naturally I wasn’t, and I lay there until midnight wondering all those things I didn’t want to wonder.

This brings me back to the start of the story. I understood Phil’s reasoning. It was the right decision and a brave one at that. But I couldn’t help feeling disappointed and to a small degree, frustrated for him. He had come so far and so close to achieving a goal he had set, only to stop 800 vertical metres from it. I gave him a hug and then gathered the others together for our departure.

The moon was full and hung well aloft, illuminating the narrow path that led to the main ridge to the summit. This is a steep climb, made worse by the scree underfoot. Once the ridge was reached, the stronger climbers went ahead with their guide. I remained mid way between those at the front and the stragglers. Occasionally I set up the camera to film the thoughts of the climbers and to give an up date of events.

After two hours, we were at the base of the final and most grueling part of the ridge that leads straight to the summit. I looked back along the ridge to see small spots of light swaying from side to side then stopping. Sway. Stop. Sway. Stop. It was a rhythm familiar to me now. Several lights were well down the ridge. Their progress was excruciatingly slow. It was Gerrard and JJ. In a way I wished one of them would pull out. Not because I didn’t want them to succeed, but because I didn’t want Phil to be alone. I wanted to show him that it wasn’t just him, that the mountain can take its toll on anyone.

The sun was starting to illuminate the horizon. I could see its warm glow to the east still 30 or 40 minutes from revealing its true brilliance. It is this part of the climb that tests ones metal. The 40 degree pitch coupled with scree and scoria base makes climbing not only exhausting but tedious. 15 steps up, slide back five and then stop. This was the rhythm of this mountain climb. 15 steps and stop. I needed to get to the summit before sunrise so I pushed on ahead of the 5 last climbers.

It was 6am when I reached Rinjani’s summit. I shook hands with the others that had reached the top and congratulated them on their effort. This was the second time I had been standing here in the last nine months and for some reason I thought I wouldn’t enjoy it as much as the first time. I guess that elation that I had done it wasn’t there but I felt as proud and satisfied as ever. Not only had I climbed to the summit, but I was the leader of my first expedition and I was filming for a documentary. These added pressures had made the summit just as satisfying as the first time.

I set up the camera and tripod just below the summit platform and filmed the rising sun over Sumbawa . It was incredible. I could see the world’s largest volcano; Tambora; to the east and the shadow cast by Rinjani’s mass on the horizon to the west. I filmed the lake and the swift clouds that rushed over the lip of the crater. Finally I filmed the battle still being waged on the mountain by JJ and Gerrard.

I remember one shot of the ridge line which showed JJ slowly plodding into the bottom left hand corner of the frame. He stopped and took in the view, then took ten more steps before stopping again. After another rest, he soldiered on stopping soon after and looking up along the ridge. He finally plodded out of the top right of frame. This shot took up 4 minutes of tape and the distance walked would be no more than 50 meters.

I pointed the camera towards a large boulder outcrop that dominates the top of the ridge line, just below the summit. From here it is an easy walk up to the top. Coming along this path was JJ and Gerrard, accompanied by Craig (a Personal Trainer) who had motivated them up the mountain. They were exhausted but absolutely thrilled with their achievement. After the mandatory summit shots and a rest, we all headed back down to base camp.

Phil was waiting for our return. I could see his disappointment. He told me that he had vomited just after we left camp and watched our head lamps bob up and down along the ridge line. While everyone else was exhausted, they all had a look of satisfaction. Phil wandered around camp aimlessly, quiet and depressed

Our walk back to a small village on the eastern slope of Rinjani must have been agonisingly long for him. He walked quietly, answering questions briskly and never starting a conversation. I shared a room with him for the last few days before heading home. Phil remained tense and unresponsive to encouragement. He told me that this was the last trip he would do for years. He blamed his wife and fatherhood for this. I was getting frustrated with his continued melancholy but what could I say? I had to let it go.

* * *

Two weeks after our return, we were invited over to Phil’s for dinner. I wasn’t sure how to handle talking about Rinjani. Should I avoid the topic? The night went fine. We all talked about Rinjani openly. Phil’s spirit returned and we talked about the film and when it would be completed. He told me that he had a great idea for another film. Always interested I lent him my ear. He told me it would be about him and a mountain in Lombok . The film would be called “Unfinished Business”.

Add comment February 27th, 2006

A Komodo Adventure

Early on a warm morning in the town of Labuan Bajo (Port Bajo) on the Indonesian island of Flores , we waited patiently for our guide to collect us for our expedition to see the biggest member of the Varanus family. Our guide, Bona Ventura, just like “Ace” he said, collected us after a visit to the local markets to stock the boat for our impending trip. Our journey to their island home began with a short dugout canoe trip to the boat that would be our home for the next three days. The ‘Alba’ was a clean looking boat that had plenty of room for both Andrew and myself and appeared it would provide us with a relaxed environment for our journey. Once on board we stowed our gear and met the crew, twenty one year old Noval, our captain for the trip, and his two deck hands John and Jos, both who were only fifteen.

The waters around Labuan Bajo were tranquil with hardly a ripple until Noval started the two diesel engines of the Alba. We quickly discovered our home for the next three days had no mufflers! With the loud throng of our boat reverberating off the other boats in the harbour and probably the hills in the distance we set off for our first destination, the Island of Rinca , pronounced ‘Rincha’. Soon after setting off, Bona served our first meal, a range of tropical fruits washed down with bottled water and black tea. After a surprisingly relaxing three hour trip past numerous small Islands and the remnants of the Western end of Flores we motored into a secluded bay. Tying up to a small pier we were about to come face to face with our first Komodo dragon. At the end of the pier was a small shelter providing shade to a couple of Indonesian locals. Underneath the small platform they were sitting on was a two meter dragon looking as relaxed as the two men sitting above it. Bona produced a small bag of fish and proceeded to offer it to the dragon. With out hesitation it scoffed the lot including the plastic bag! Initially Andrew and I were a little disappointed as it felt like this dragon was staged and was only hanging around because of people like Bona feeding it. That may have been true of this individual but we were soon to see many more dragons away from obvious human habitation and influence.

It was only a couple of years ago that Komodo ‘feeding’ shows were stopped. These shows were put on for tourists who could witness a ‘pack’ of dragon’s tearing a goat to pieces. With an increased understanding of the dragon’s ecology, it was realised that this was putting undue pressure on the population and could be one of the reasons for the increasing difference between the male and female population. Offerings of large animals by humans are now only done by rangers and researchers when they want to attract animals for research requirements.

The walk on Rinca takes about two hours starting with a short section from the pier to the ranger station where you can pay your entrance fees and collect your special forked stick. The Rangers indicated that if you are attacked by a dragon while on the walk you should thrust the stick into its mouth this should make it drop to the ground and go to sleep? I was not sure how poking a forked stick into the mouth of a three meter lizard was going to make it go to sleep but I didn’t really care as I wasn’t going to get into a position to have to try it!

The walk was interesting with our small group coming across numerous animals including water buffalo, large centipedes, flying lizards and of course dragons. We walked through thick forest and scrub and out into open grasslands which appeared to include many species that were familiar to me from Australia . The island was very dry however the plant species we saw showed that it can be quite wet. Stag horn ferns and orchids covered the trunks and filled the forks of many trees and provided a welcome contrast to the dry brown surrounds. Many of the orchids were in flower and were quite beautiful. What a contrast, the delicate beauty of the orchids just above the lumbering bodies of the prehistoric dragons.

On returning to the Alba we motored away from the pier and onto our next destination, a small island off the coast of Komodo Island . Bona said that we were soon to see many flying foxes leaving their daytime roost for an evening of foraging on the surrounding islands. When Bona said many we were not prepared for the numbers we were going to experience. We arrived at the island just on dusk, a little later than Bona had anticipated, as we had taken too long on Rinca looking around for animals. The island was unlike most others we had past; it was low, only one to two meters high and covered in mangroves. As we approached we could already see a stream of flying foxes leaving the island. We had already experienced the Indonesian habit of underestimation of time, distance, etc. and Bona’s description of many was just one more. For the short time we were anchored off the island we witnessed tens of thousands of flying foxes flying off to feed. It was an awesome sight.

Just before we set off for our mooring for the night we were visited by a small boat load of villagers selling carvings of dragons and other locally produced souvenirs. It seems no place is exempt from the pressures of needing to make a living, even out on a boat in the middle of this isolated part of the world. After a short round of haggling we set off in the dark for the pier on Komodo Island . On arriving we weighed anchor ate our dinner and settled down for bed.

The next morning we rose around 5am and set out to find more dragons. This time however it would actually be on the Island that gave them their name. Only a short walk from the pier through the ranger station we discovered over a dozen large dragons lumbering out of the scrub to start the days foraging. The day was perfect, the temperature was around 25C with not a breath of wind and the light of the rising sun made for an awesome sight. We were able to get quite close to the dragons with many that we saw wandering past less than a metre away. You could almost smell their breath.

Seeing the dragons on Komodo heralded the end of our adventure and we boarded the Alba for the trip west across the Sape Straight to the island of Sumbawa . The small port town of Sape on Sumbawa is where we would catch the overnight bus and ferry that would get me back to Mataram in Lombok for my flight back to Bali and then home to Australia .

While this trip provided so many opportunities to experience the island culture and see animals and plants that I had only ever seen in books, Andrew decided future trips will be increased from three to six days and include the North Coast of Sumbawa and not just the Islands of Komodo and Rinca. This would provide an opportunity to experience the wildlife, culture and scenery of Sumbawa as well as more chances to relax and do some snorkeling and fishing on the reefs along the way.

Add comment February 27th, 2006

Dragons of Indonesia

On a hot and steamy afternoon in late October we arrived on the island of Flores in the small port town of Labuan Bajo. Renault a French web designer, Lyndal an Australian Paramedic and myself, a self professed jack of all trades and master of none had travelled to the eastern end of Indonesia in search of one of the world’s most awesome animals, the Komodo dragon. In Labuan Bajo we met Aleksander, a pleasant young man who was our contact and the man that had our boat organised to take us to the island home of the Komodo dragon.

As it was already getting late and we had an early start in the morning, Aleksander dropped us off at the Hotel where we had a quick wash and then set off to have dinner at one of the many restaurants along the main street. With so many to choose from we had trouble first deciding where to eat but soon decided on one that had a great view of the bay that Labuan Bajo was built on. After a very filling and cheap dinner of local culinary delights we set off back to our hotel for a good night sleep.

Rising at 6:00 the next morning we packed our bags and set off with Aleksander to meet the crew that would be looking after us for the next three days. Our boat, the Alba was captained by a young Indonesian by the name of Noval, a fully licensed seafarer operating his Uncle’s boat. Novals crew consisted of 2 younger boys; John and Jos both about fifteen. I wasn’t sure and I don’t think they knew either. On board was everything we needed for our trip, food, water, snorkelling equipment and ice for the beer we had bought (the only thing other than soft drink that wasn’t supplied). Settling in we stowed our gear on the deck and Noval set off, motoring out of the harbour towards our first destination, Bidadari Island.

Earlier that month I had been snorkelling off the Gilli island on the North east coast of Lombok and what we saw there was no comparison to the underwater life in the waters around Bidadari. Anchoring on a small patch of sand so as not to damage the coral we stripped off to our swimming attire, donned our snorkelling gear and jumped in to the crystal clear waters. Fish of all types, clams of every colour imaginable and coral of all shapes and sizes greeted us as we floated around the boat. After an hour or so we paddled back over to the boat where we boarded for a light refreshment of fresh fruit, tea and coffee. While we settled down Noval set off to our next stop, Rinca Island, and our first opportunity to see the legendary Komodo dragon.

On arriving at Rinca the build up of some ominous looking clouds were starting to appear over the island. We ignored them, as you would when you were about to see the world’s largest lizard for the first time. Mooring at the harbour we gathered our camera gear and some water in a small pack and set off to the ranger station. At the end of the pier we saw our first dragon a mid sized animal about two meters long. It was resting under a group of mangroves just near the path and we were less than two meters from it when we walked past. We were met at the ranger station by a very energetic ranger who then led us to the start of the walk which led up a dry river bed. We learnt from our Ranger Guide that Komodo dragons let unsuspecting animals, us included, to wander quite close pretending to be asleep or dead and then when we get close enough they spring into action inflicting a bite that usually results in death due to severe infection. The infection results from the huge amounts of bacteria in their saliva. The dragons use this bacteria to their advantage and are able to bring down animals substantially larger than then selves such as fully grown buffalo. As we walked up the river bed the clouds grew larger and larger, blacker and blacker and the distant thunder was now not so distant. Not that we really cared as the temperature was starting to climb into the mid thirties and some rain would bring some relief from the heat. At the end of the walk we came across a small muddy water hole where many of the islands animals had congregated to cool down in the shade and have a much needed drink. In amongst the buffalo, deer, monkeys and Megapod birds were some opportunistic Komodo dragons that were lying in wait for one of the animals to stray too close. We sat and watched the animals doing what animals do while they stared back nervously wondering what we were doing at their water hole. Not that they would understand that all we wanted was some great photos to take back to show our family and friends.

With a loud clap of thunder that seemed to come from the sky above us we decided that it would be a good idea to head back to the ranger station before we got wet. Too late. After walking only 100 meters the rain started to fall, only lightly at first but as every second passed the drops seemed to get bigger and bigger and more and more frequent until it felt like someone was throwing buckets of water on us. We started to walk quite quickly but were forced to slow down as the rain had turned our track into a muddy slippery dip and it was taking all our concentration just to stay up right. An added problem to our trip back to the ranger station was that mud from the track was sticking to our shoes and with each step our feet became heavier and heavier not to mention more awkward to move. We finally made it back soaked to the bone and our legs covered in mud. The ranger station has a small undercover seating area which we headed to to take cover from the monsoonal bucketing. Once under cover though, the rain stopped, just as quickly as it had started. What perfect timing.

After trudging back to the boat we set off, this time for Kalong Island or as it is some times called “Flying fox Island”. This name comes from the tens of thousands of Flying foxes that call the small mangrove covered island home. That is, they usually call it home. On our arrival we were expecting to see the flying foxes all leaving their daytime roost for the evenings foraging on the other nearby islands, however all but a handfull had either already gone or had not been there in the first place. We were a little disappointed but as we had already seen so much the disappointment did not last for very long. Especially after we opened a couple of Bintang beers and sat back to watch the sun set over Komodo Island in the distance. This was topped off by the two deck hands John and Jos serving a fantastic meal of fish, fried rice, fresh vegetables and Tempe. We were all excited about the next day, our journey to the world famous Komodo Island.

That night we slept on board the boat, gently rocking back and forth with the movement of the water. Apart from the humidity which made it a little hard to get to sleep it was a great way to spend a night. In the morning we woke with the rising sun and set off early for Komodo. By 6:30am we were on Komodo and setting off on the walk around the Ranger station to try and spot some more dragons. Our new Ranger guide walked us through the dry scrub of Komodo past many trees covered in beautiful purple and white orchids, stag ferns hanging off the trees in the cooler gullies and many of the islands animals, including a dead pig in a tree. But no Dragons. As it turned out we didn’t see any Dragons on the island apart from those near the ranger station. The ranger informed us that they were spread out over the whole island in search for the scarce water sources. Unlike Rinca the island hadn’t received any rain yet and was still very dry from the past six months of dry season weather. Nonetheless the walk around the island was still great as we saw so many other animals and interesting plants.

Leaving Komodo Island we headed for Red Beach for some more under water adventure, seeing once again numerous species of fish, coral and an interesting looking brown and white spotted eel. From Red Beach we set off for our final night stop, Kanawa Island while we ate our lunch. Once again prepared by our very capable deckhands, John and Jos. On Arriving at Kanawa Island we moored at the end of a one hundred meter long wooden pier that led down to a pristine white beach and a small low budget holiday resort. Before we set off to explore the island we were able to sit and watch a group of locals fishing off the end of the pier and on a couple of small boats moored to the pier. They fished, not with the normal bait on a hook method, but with a heavily weighted hook that they threw out into the large schools of fish under the pier. Once the hook had sunk under the school of fish they would rip the rod up into the air hoping to snag a fish as the hook flew through the school. As we watched they caught only three fish for maybe one hundred attempts so it seemed to be quite a lot of effort for not much return.

Noval let us know we had about an hour before our dinner would be ready so we had ample time to explore the area around the resort. Ranualt and I decided we would go and have a beer before dinner but soon found out that the generator was only turned on in the late afternoon and that the beer was still warm, so we all wandered around checking out the resort. The owner had some time in the past brought a couple of Timor deer to the island as pets one of which we found asleep under a tree near the bar with warm beer. This deer acted more like a dog and would respond to a good pat and scratch under the chin. Along with the tame deer the Island had a resident eagle that was able to be approached quite closely. More so by the locals that would feed it a fish or two from their daily catch (I doubt though that the guys at the end of the pier would give up one of their three fish). After our exploring session we wandered back to the boat, ate our dinner and settled down for the night once again to a magnificent sunset.

The last day of our trip saw us doing some more exploring and also some snorkelling on Kanawa Island before heading off to Kalong Island where Lyndall and Renault relaxed on the beach while I climbed to the highest point on the island to see what I could see. What I saw was a perfect view of Kalong Island and the clear blue seas which stretched for hundreds of kilometres all around me. After lunch at Kalong Island it was back to Labuan Bajo via Bidadari Island for some more snorkelling. Arriving at Labuan Bajo we were met once again by Aleksander who took us back to our hotel, before we flew out back to Bali the next day.

Add comment February 27th, 2006

The Indra Maya Villas, Bintan

 Private. Heavenly. An extravagant and luxurious respite away from city urban life. Bintan in Indonesia is but 45 minutes away from Singapore by high-speed catamaran.

The 350sq m 2-bedroom sea front Indra Maya villa my family had was spacious, tastefully furnished, clean and tidy. More than the usual coffee and tea amenities at the very private villa, the Indra Maya provides more - scented candles, incense and water features within each villa itself. This thoughtful gesture made one feel at home and pampered. Our suite had a sizeable pool and across the pool is the open sea. Absolutely enchanting and picturesque, just like a picture out of the “rich and famous” lifestyle magazines. But only this time it was real for my family and I. We were in such a heavenly surrounding.

The bedrooms and bathrooms are huge. For choice, the master bedroom even boasts of a private open-air bath, like the ones we see in spa advertisements. The open-air bath is shielded from prying eyes by tall trees and shrubs. Neighbours are a distance away and privacy is guarded. At the time I was there, the price of a 2-bedroom suite was Singapore Dollars 550++ per night but it was money worth spending. We were treated to spaciousness, luxury and privacy. It was a family getaway and with the pool fronting the hall, we felt safe to leave the children on their own at the pool.

The hall has big sofas that could easily double as a bed. Even though it was stipulated that each such villa can accommodate 4-5 people, my view is that I could double this number easily, that is, if guests do not mind sleeping on the big sofas or on the floor in the hall and also if the management of the Indra Maya does not mind (you bet they do!).

The exclusive Indra Maya estate has only 14 villas. Access from each suite to the main hotel lobby and elsewhere within the Nirwana Gardens Resort is by buggy. Individual buggy is parked outside each suite, so getting around the estate is not a problem at all.

The Indra Maya is part of the Nirwana Garden chain of hotels that also comprise the Nirwana Resort Hotel, Mayang Sari Beach Resort, and the Banyan Biru Resort. Inter-hotel charging is allowed and this means you get a wider choice of food outlets.

The main hotel lobby serves the guests of the Mayang Sari. Check-in for guests of the Indra Maya is in a separate room that doubles as a lounge. Free coffee and tea are available all day long at the lounge.

The sea fronts the South China Sea and sitting at the Verandah at the Mayang Sari for a meal or snack, one can take in the activities of sun-lovers and tanners. For more adventurous sports activities, you can visit the Mana Mana Beach Club.

A heavenly and relaxing stay such as this is not complete without a rub-down and pampering of the body. The Asmara Tropical Spas provides a wide range of spa treatments. My husband and I were pampered in a room for two. In between treatments, I was shepherded to an open-air bath similar to the one in our suite. Here I washed off my earlier treatment with milk bath from a jug. I was reminded of the Egyptian princess in the story of Moses. After the treatment, hubby and I were given a refreshing health drink that we had chosen earlier. We sipped our drinks in a quaintly-styled waiting area where all was quiet. It was definitely reminiscent of things Indonesian, Balinese, Thai and of well-organized spas. Quiet, peaceful and private with the sound of trickling water, I can almost feel the coolness of the place as I write this.

The Indra Maya. Ah - one of the extravagant luxuries in life. I will be back.

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Fact File

 

Room Rates

The rate mentioned above is exclusive of 10% Government Tax and 10% Service Charge. The accommodation rate is inclusive of land transfer from Bintan Beach International Resort ferry terminal to the hotel, breakfast (for 4 passengers), and a welcome drink upon arrival.

Currency

Indonesian Rupiah (Rp) is the official currency but Singapore Dollar (SGD) is generally acceptable.

Add comment February 27th, 2006

A fitting Trade

Business in a traditional market is quite unique. Lots of specialists discover their true talents and find their niche in life conducting their trade in the boisterous and often hectic atmosphere of these markets. Markets are not only the realm of buyers and sellers, but also a place where those with a particular talent can flourish by providing much needed services.

Working with scissors, a piece of chalk, a needle and thread and a swing machine are the forever busy traditional tailors. In only a few short hours, they can create a new outfit or within a few minutes efficiently adjust one that no longer fits or needs mending.

One place where these tailors flourish is the Kebon Roek market, one of the biggest markets in Ampenan, close to the airport and conveniently on the way to Senggigi Lombok,Indonesia.

It is not difficult to find them in the Kebon Roek market, situated some 15 metres from the market gate. They are in the middle of vegetables, fruit and clothe seller. Rabiah and her sister Nikmah and hers husband Asri, busily working away on their sewing machines.

So busy was Rabiah taking orders from customers,that I have to wait to be able to talk to her. And when we could finally talk to her, the 72 year-old grandma was back at work with her hands and feet constant motion at the sewing machine.

Although they have had no formal education these people are talented. Its very close to being an art form yet their humility is something to be admired. She has been sewing for 40 years never even had a chance to learn to read. For Rabiah and Asri just seeing, feeling and hard work they are able to attract many customers.

They are content with what they have, They dont dream of better machines and new techniques; they are happy with what they have. And even though they can easily compete with the more upmarket tailors, they are reluctant to expand their business. Why make life difficult says Rabiah, We dont want to make life complicated, this is enough for us to be able to gather here with our other friends in the market

The physical condition of the machine used by Rabiah is like a dull and faded cloth. It is old but still works well and moves smoothly. A Chinese brand called butterfly, it was made in 1950.

Asri and his family have been in the garment business a long time and his children and nephews are also the business. One of his nephews, Sanhaz, has a small garment company in Kuta, Bali, creating T shirts that are sold to tourist and exported to Japan.

The skill is passed on from generation to generation. Asri learned from his father who is turned learned from his own father. According to Asri, his father was able to learn his skill from the Japanese during the colonial era when the country was under the Japanese rule. Quite a few of us learnt under the Japanese and from the Chinese, says Asri massaging his right arm which has been painful because of sewing for many years.

To have clothes mended, a customer need only wait the time it takes to a little shopping and the cost is around Rp1.000-Rp2.000. For a suit(skirt and blouse) the cost is between Rp.25.000 and Rp20.000 .Rabiah can finish a shirt with no sleeves in only one hour.

They work from 8 in the morning until 5 in the evening and make about Rp25,000 a day which only covers their costs and does not enable them to save. Theirs is hard life, but somehow you get the impression that despite all the difficulties, they are happy and proud of their skills. As in any city or town anywhere in the world a good tailor is always in hot demand-we all want to look good and they provide the means.

Add comment February 27th, 2006

Halfway Around Lombok: Monkeybite and Cloud-nine

We woke up to the sun’s earliest rays of light. It was really early, indeed, but today we had to prepare for the land cruise. Mom, who devoted most of her free time in the room washing clothes, checked her array of clean-but-wet clothes that she had hung on the balcony’s wooden fence. She was the earliest to be greeted by the salubrious breeze.

After breakfast, Simon, Agung’s friend in tourism business, picked us up. We’re bound for our last adventure in Lombok, that would cover the mountainous upper half of this island-from Senggigi in the west to Khayangan in the far east and back, stopping by that illustrious Sendang Gila Waterfall in the northern highlands of Bayan. We didn’t have more time to trek the majestic Mount Rinjani; we would encircle it instead.

The car climbed its way into Pusuk Forest (known to all as ‘monkey forest’), passing Sidemel, along whose road, every ten meters or so, stood a stall selling palm sugar syrup. Out of curiosity, I bought a bottle of it. Firstly, the smell was downright awful-like gastric gas!-and the taste was a bizarre blend of sugar sweet with a vinegarish tinge to it. Simon said that this beverage is good for health-somewhat cliché advertising-specifically for lowering blood pressure and reducing gastric pain. We all gave it a try, however, and none claimed to love it.

We stopped by a spot in Pusuk to feed the monkeys. They all came in many sizes, but from one species only. These monkeys, somehow akin to humans, showed respect (or fear, perhaps) to their leaders: There are two of them at that particular place, as Agung later told us, that have to have the peanuts first, otherwise, the rest won’t feel comfortable to feed from us-their eyes in constant watch at their unfed kings.

All was well until we heard Shierly’s yelp. A naughty monkey had bitten her. She was feeding with her right hand one peanut at a time, holding a lot more in her clasped left palm. But this cunning monkey seemed to know. It wanted to grab hold of the whole treasure, but Shierly kept her left hand tight, and pulled it away from the menacing monkey. It bit her, for sure, and left a three-millimeter deep cut on her index finger. What she did afterwards were merely looking at her wound and pushed it to let the blood out. Simon, as a gesture of his uncalled-for responsibility for the situation, applied on the wound the juice from certain leaves, taking it as “a natural remedy.”

Fearing the attack of tetanus or rabies, we decided to halt the land cruise and asked Simon to take us to the general hospital in Mataram. Forty minutes later, we pulled up right in front of the white-green building of RSU Mataram.

In a beautiful, bountiful, hassle-free land whose people are so cool and so used to doing everything the usual laid-back style, here are a few things you better not encounter: hospitals, fire brigade, cops. Here’s why. RSU Mataram is the best hospital in entire Lombok, but its service-I couldn’t help comparing it with those of my hometown-was nowhere near first-class. The pharmacists, the nurses, even the resident doctors were slow to act-as if nothing was really emergency in this Emergency Room.

The doctors were nice, of course, in the sense that they smiled a lot, trying to ease our worries. All was still well. Although monkeybite is rare, they said, it is not unheard-of. No matter what, thorough cleansing of the wound and, above all, the antitetanus shot, were necessary, the resident doctors added. As for rabies: We were assured that those monkeys in Pusuk were healthy ones. (Rabid animals tend to bite without provocation. A bite from a wild animal while feeding it, or trying to fondle it, as I later learned from a source in the Net, is considered a provoked attack.)

Altogether, the vaccination and the first-aid treatment of the wound cost about Rp 160k and lasted about less than an hour. At 11, we were all set to continue our voyage, but with a major change of route. Instead of circling Rinjani in clockwise direction, we would now travel counterclockwise.

Eastward we went, past Cakranegara-where we stopped for a while at the Chinese drugstore Tjintjin Lima to buy medication for Shierly’s wound-then Sweta, Narmada, thus into the entrance gate of Lombok’s middle part. The first town that captured our attention was Masbagik with its huge, regal mosque. Onwards, we drove smoothly past a sweep of green, thriving tobacco fields. An hour and several unremarkable towns later, we came into the eastern part of Lombok, whose people “all adhere very strictly to Islamic principles,” Simon noted.

Things are absolutely cheaper in east Lombok than in the west. This is perhaps due to the rarity, if not total absence, of foreign tourists coming and staying in this area. In the village of Wanasaba in Aikmel, we had a cheap lunch-Javanese noodle with meatballs-by the roadside, and bought snacks for a little sum of money at the neighboring warung. We were lucky to see here a very quirky but efficient method of knotting small plastic packages. This interested me very much that I wanted to try and learn. Regrettably, we left the place without mastering the art of it.

From there we moved on to Labuhan Lombok, Khayangan, on the east coast, then up north to Sambelia where we came across a patch of land where giant trees stood. Along the way, Simon had talked a lot about these giant trees. We were utterly awed to see them with our own eyes. These tree ferns-which number to at most fifty-stand to twenty meters tall, with a trunk diameter of no more than two meters from mid-height to top, but on the ground it probably reaches seven to ten meters thick.

The more you see the intricate reality of nature, the more humbled you will feel. We humans are naught compared to this colossal, immobile organism that has withstood the evolutionary test of time over millions of years. And yet, I said to myself, you haven’t seen the Sequoias-the most massive of all living beings on planet Earth.

En route to Senaru, we went by Obel-obel, whose view of the rugged coastal hills was mesmeric, with sun-drenched sea glittering like a meadow of sapphires. Look on the other side, and you’ll see cloud-capped mountains and plains awash in copious fields of corn and tobacco leaves. Fishing boats stranded on shore. Horses and cows grazing on lush pastures. Riverbeds with steel bridges above them serving no practical purpose: There was no water below. Sun shone much more fiercely here than in western Lombok-hence the patches of parched earth here and there, intermingled with coconut palms, banana and frangipani trees. This is the playground of Drought and Profusion. Still, everything feels like they are there only for you, the ultimate observer. Even the lonely bird that pompously soared the open sky while I was photographing. This is a treat of nature: You don’t get to see this kind of miracles everyday.

Half an hour driving through the jagged path with tortuous twists and turns into the heart of the jungle brought us to the highlands of Bayan, right at the slope of Mount Rinjani-Indonesia’s third-tallest mountain. In this height, the cool breeze is palpable. But no less tangible is the riotous blend of colorful flowers blossoming with intensity: pink impatiens and frangipani, yellow-white jasmine and blue hydrangeas amid a vivid multitude of green.

Simon motioned towards a cap-wearing man who seemed to be a local guide to the waterfall. This man politely introduced himself, “Padli,” showing us his official nametag. After a brief preparation, he led us in trekking down the valley. Sendang Gila thundered vociferously from afar.

It was an honor to be guided all along the trek by Padli, who usually went up and down guiding tourists several times a single day. His recounting of the waterfall’s myth was most illuminating: Legend says a lion once came from a forest and ravaged the villages. The villagers hunted it down, yet it managed to escape to this very spot-and disappeared. Through this hole then a waterfall emerged. In the reign of a certain king, an almost-impossible attempt was made to construct a massive waterway that would convey the clean, fresh water to the garden pool in the king’s palace. During the initial stages of construction, forty people, all connected to this project, suffered unexplained and terrible deaths-the plan was soon discontinued. To this supernatural mishap does the waterfall’s name owe its origin: “Singa-nggila” (crazy lion), which subsequently evolved to “Sendang Gila” in Sasak tongue.

A quarter of an hour and hundreds of stairs later, we finally had the idea how incredible this waterfall was. The voluminous amount of water it disgorges from three major cavities is testimony to its earned reputation. There were youngsters that played in the shallow pool where the water broke, luring us even more to join them-to get ourselves all wet.

Heny, Shierly and I came down to try the water. It was numbing cold. Showering below it feels so much like having your own personal oblivion: First, the roaring sound deafens the ears, then the white blades blind the eyes, and finally the liquid ice freezes the skin. Maybe the brain, too, dies, even if for an instant.

Soaking, we trailed back to where we had started, short of breath. We had a meager afternoon snack at Pondok Senaru, one of the many trek centers up here in the hills, before going away.

From Bayan, the car drove downhill and then westward. Before us was the crimson sun, slowly going down. In Gondang we stopped for a while to relish the ultimate sunset of our ten-day trip. The rest of the drive, through Tanjung and Pusuk (where we had originally wanted to start from), was done in twilight-then darkness. Sleepily, we talked with him about commodities of Lombok-tangy garlic, pumice, tobacco leaves-as the car wound its course home. We arrived at Senggigi at 8 p.m., feeling so hungry.

Throughout that demanding road trip, Simon showed us the prime qualities of a professional tour leader: excellent driver, elucidative storyteller and most importantly, understanding companion. He didn’t mind at all our arriving too late at Senggigi, due to that nasty situation in Pusuk. Rather, he had even offered us to dine in a restaurant where he regularly entertained guests. (He was, to our surprise, a solo piano performer as well!)

We didn’t dine at Ilir-ilir, which Simon had recommended, but at Happy Café in Senggigi instead. It was quite crowded at that time; live music was playing on stage. We sat at the far corner close to the street. Mom’s gado-gado didn’t fit her expectation, neither did my chicken lemon. But Shierly and Heny each savored the spaghetti bolognese and T-bone steak. We returned to Jayakarta Hotel all spent-and slept shortly.

Add comment February 27th, 2006