Indonesia Part Four: Ubud, Yogyakarta and some bits in between…

With the 30 hour journey from Labuanbajo to Gili Air still fairly fresh, and having properly adopted the sleepy island life we opted for the fast boat to Ubud, this chopped travel time from 14 hours to 2. We chilled on the top deck, caught some sun and listened to some tunes before catching a mini bus through Bali island until we arrived in Ubud.

Arriving in Ubud I knew I was somewhere good, there was a vibe about the place that instantly grabbed me and I was seriously contemplating extending my visa. I haven’t fallen for a “city” since Chiang Mai, in my mind they are comparable if you see Ubud as its hippy sister. The architecture, Balinese art, coffee shops, food, markets, people and vibrant culture were all fascinating and intoxicating. Just walking from the bus stop to the guesthouse was enough to get me well and truly hooked.

We check into our guesthouse which is unbelievably impressive and set amongst a wilderness of plants and trees, there’s even a waterfall at the bottom of the garden. Our room is elegant and spacious, the front door is ornately carved and a trip to the restaurant makes this place soar in my estimation. A plate of Gado Gado and an avocado smoothie for less than £2.50 yes please.

That evening we take a look at what the city has to offer. No sooner do we reach the end of our road and step onto the main street do the calls from the abundance of taxi drivers begin; “taxi?, taxi?” come the cries from every which way. We wander through the crowd politely saying; “no thank-you” to each and every offer. The calls die down as we approach the palace where a new sound emerges from the crowds, touts selling tickets for tonight show swarm in and begin selling you tickets. At first we decline but before we’ve even crossed the road we change our minds. We take a brief stroll through the night market before returning to the Royal Palace ahead of tonight’s performance.

The evening’s entertainment begins with an introduction to Gamelan music, it sounded like the intro of “Industrial Estate” by “The Fall”, only sped up and played on a series of glockenspiel style instruments, drums, a giant gong and a penny whistle. The music was chaotic and disorientating but had its own disjointed rhythm which was both infectious and infuriating in equal measures.

Act Two saw the beginning of the traditional dance and with the introduction of the princess to the stage the music made more sense. She floated about and controlled the rhythm, her movements where mystical and enchanting but I had little idea what was going on.

She did some squats and waved her fingers around all fancy...

Then her dad and the evil king came in together, which was confusing because they were actually played by two women. The King wants the princess for himself, he kills the dad, the king later dies in battle...

They wave fans at each other, the princess gets out alive.

Enter the Barong, he looks all scary with this sort of bitey mouth and fur but he’s actually really friendly…

He sort of jives about a bit...

Does some wiggles…

Later when he's cool chillin' a monkey comes in...he's all like "I got a banana, want some" and the Barong is like "yeah" and the monkeys is like "lol jokes this is my banana"...The Barong chases the monkey away...

Then these "pretty" ladies come in and do some more dancing and waving of their hands...

These are supposed to represent the side of "good"...

Then a guy comes in who looks like Pavarotti but if Pavarotti was a Bo Selecta character, he’s bad Shamone!

Then we move to a graveyard and these ladies are all under a spell of an evil witch, they have these scary eyes and they are all like "wiggle wiggle"…

Enter evil witch

She casts some spells and hands out blankets which have magical evil powers oooooh

Then she conjures up this spirit thing and even though he's well bad and evil and stuff he's super cute and funny…

The ladies love him. They dance around him and wave their blankets around, saucy…

Then the king is wondering about and he's trying to ignore all the shit that’s going down...

His advisor is like, "you need to have a word with that witch, she's making everyone proper evil and stuff"

So the king goes to the witch doctor and says "can you stop being evil and stuff" and she's like "no"...

Then the super bad but cute thing from earlier comes back but this time he's well hairy and even more adorable...

The lights come up and he does this cool street dance routine, he's all like "have you seen me yo"

Seriously, finger nail game is strong...

But the locals don't much like him so they're all like "ugg" which means they dont like him and they are gonna kill him...

But he is like "raahhh" which means, I dont like you move out my way...then he throws a sheet of cloth at them and then they all become evil and kill themselves then later the good Barong comes in and does a little victory dance. Or at least that’s what I understood from it all...

After all that excitement we walked back to the room and called it a night.

The following morning we woke up with the sun, made our way through the jungle garden and on to a patio area overlooking a waterfall, breakfast came in the form of fruit salad and banana pancakes, an Indonesian staple it seems.

With our bellies full we wander out into the town and window shop until we drop, there is so much to see (and to buy) here, neither of us can decide if coming so late in the trip is a blessing or a curse. From art and handicrafts to furniture, clothes and jewellery there is so much that grabs our attention. Every shop window pulls us in and we mentally fill our imaginary house ten times over with Balinese bits and bobs.

On our third lap of the market we succumb and purchase two small pen and ink drawings of characters from last nights dance, we briefly try to convince ourselves that it would be ok to unlock the credit card and purchase everything from a table to a ten feet painting of a fish but thankfully both came to our senses soon after…A return trip here when we are both rocking healthier bank balances is a definite but for now we can look but can’t touch.

We took a break from the heat at “Grandpa’s”, a small ice cream parlour on the main road. I went for a coconut, mint and avocado smoothie which was served inside the coconut from whence the milk had come, Hatty had a science experiment in a glass- a concoction of soda water, syrups and scoops of ice cream all bubbling away.

As is the theme with Ubud we took to the streets and continued our aimless wandering, there are so many quirky little side alleys and back streets which are all bustling with charming little shops, galleries and café’s it’s hard to pull yourself away.

The next day we took breakfast and then meandered through town, taking a scenic route past the rice paddies. We had a morning to kill because that afternoon we were heading to a Silversmiths to take part in a workshop. We were both given 5 grams of silver and shown techniques on cutting, heating and shaping the silver. Our creations certainly resemble that of a first time silversmith and will kindly make gifts for some loved family members so I won’t say too much more on that part of the experience.

The workshop was located about half hour out of town against a backdrop of rice paddies and rolling hills. We were served local tea and small eats such as banana fritters which I hardly got to sample as Hatty snaffled the lot. The rice paddies were full of ducks, their bum feathers poked out above the green blades and their squabbling quacks made for entertaining viewing. It was an educational and entertaining afternoon.

That evening Hatty’s education continued as I took her to Schwarzenegger school, to show her his more gentle side we watched Commando and despite her laughing at the “daddy montage” at the start of the film, and pretty much every other scene I knew deep down she was impressed with this all action blockbuster.

The following day we did the tourist trail and hit up some of the sites in and around Ubud. We started with the Elephant Cave Temple, or to give it its correct name, Goa Gajah. Set amongst beautiful gardens this temple was a peaceful place to begin the day. The temple itself was small but you do get to walk through the mouth of a god (name escapes me) which was cool in a novelty way. There was also a humongous tree which we were both transfixed with. The French couple we were doing the tour with moved away from us when we started hugging it.

 

Next stop was the Holy Spring Temple; Tampak Siring, as the name suggests there is a holy spring and it was full of people washing and worshipping, it was a little awkward as we couldn’t exactly join in but had to walk past which felt a little voyeuristic. Aside from the main pool there was also a series of pond full of carp and other reflection pools which had loads of intricate and impressive carvings and statues around them, the blues of pool and greys of the stone were offset with bright green, orange, pink and yellow flowers. Like other Indonesian temple complexes this was another beautiful and tranquil place to spend time.

The next stop was to be a real highlight for me, a break from temples took us to a local coffee plantation. A young guy took us on a tour of the farm which was growing ganglion, cinnamon, cloves, pineapple, bananas, cocoa, vanilla and of course coffee. We learnt about the differnet plants, how they are farmed and prepared. We also learnt about a very particular type of coffee which is made here- Luwak Coffee.

The Luwak is a racoon type animal, bigger than a cat but not as big as a badger which has a fondness for the sweet, ripened coffee bean. The Luwak is a fussy eater and only eats the best beans from the plants but no matter how fond this critter is of caffeine its body never properly digests the beans and no when nature takes it cause the beans leave the Luwak whole and end up on the ground.

The farmers then come in and instead of picking the beans from the plant they search for the Luwaks poo, give it a rinse and hey presto they are the finest beans, guaranteed. The shells are cracked open and the beans are gently roasted, short roasting retains higher levels of caffeine while long roasting reduce caffeine but make for a less bitter cup. The end result is a ridiculously smooth and delicious cup of coffee, a full body aroma, a little nutty…pun intended.

We conclude the coffee tour with a tasting of a variety of teas, chocolate and coffee drinks. Bali Coffee, Hot Cocoa, Ginseng Coffee, Vanilla Coffee, Rosella Tea, Ginger Tea, Lemongrass Tea, Coconut Coffee and a prize cup of Luwak Coffee, all washed down with a side of banana chips. Fully refreshed and a little buzzed from drinking five cups of coffee we fly back to the car and onto the next landmark.

A steep ride up hill takes us to a wonderful spot where we view Mt Bahar and Lake Bahar, high up the air is much cooler and the landscape is awe inspiring. Yet again Indonesia offers a beautiful and tranquil spot to unwind, it’s easy to kill time up here watching the clouds floating in the sky covering and uncovering the mountain top, its shadow contorting the world below it. Little homes perch on the edge of the giant rock, its side still blackened from its last explosion no more than fifty years ago.

After lunch we travel to the Mother Temple; Besakih, it’s the most tourist heavy of all the temples and as such invites the scammers and hawkers in flocks. The first of these experiences happens moments after buying your entry ticket, a man in an “official” booth ask for your ticket, saying he must look after it while you enter the temple and as it’s a “special day” you must make a “donation”. None of this is true and with little argument we keep out tickets and move on to the entrance.

The next stage was negotiating the “spiritual guides” who meet you as you approach the main steps leading to the temple. They tell you that you cannot enter the temple without them, which initially seemed legit but then they reveal their cost. We had experienced tricks like this in India and been stung by it so weren’t willing to play along. IT wasn’t long before one guide was following us offering us a “good deal” if we went with him. We looked up at the temple and saw plenty of unguided groups and so decided to continue on our way.

The guide told us we could go up the side steps without him so we did just that, the side steps meet with the main set and so we cut across and into the temple complex. Nobody stopped us and as we met actual clergy along the way they greeted us with a nod and a smile. From the menacing and conniving at the bottom of the steps, here at the top everything had returned back to the traditional beautiful and tranquil attitude that we had come to know and love of Indonesia.

The first part of the temple is interesting, architecturally and from this high vantage point you are offered some cool views back over the city below but the real highlight came from an unexpected find. Together with the French couple we ended up on a rocky lane which took us even higher, it looked like we’d completely left the temple and wandered into a small village when from around the corner we saw what looked like ancient ruins.

There wasn’t a soul up here and the collapsing walls, distorted carvings and rusted fixtures made for an altogether more interesting place to explore. The view back across the temple and city was even better than before and having the place to ourselves made it feel like we’d discovered it. It was a brilliant place to explore and photograph and we soon saw off our allocated time here.

On the way back down to the town we pulled over at a spot on the side of the road which gave us fantastic views of a massive rice terrace, the bright green slope went on for an age before blending into the side of a mountain. You could hear cars tearing around, horns blasting but still, somehow it was, you guessed it, beautiful and tranquil.

The final stop on the tour was the Old Court Jestures of Klungkung Kingdom, a garden-cum-palace-cum-temple. It was pleasant enough but by no means the best of the day, maybe I was getting tired but I wasn’t too interested in spending that much time here. Everyone else was of similar mind so we made our way back to the car and to our guesthouse.

That evening we went out in search of the cheapest way to move on from Ubud to Sanur, a beach spot in Bali. The guesthouse had quoted us 300,00IDR and we tried to barter them down to 150,00IDR their response was to actually laugh in our faces. So you can imagine how smug we were when we walked to Parama Tours office and found out they do a shuttle from Ubud to Sanur for 50,000IDR per person plus 15,000IDR pp for hotel pick up and the same for drop off. As both our departing and arriving hotels were a little way from the bus stop we added this on and paid the total of 160,000IDR.

The bus pulled over and the driver pointed out our hotel, we ran across four lanes of traffic and into the ghostly quiet Harrads Hotel in Sanur. It’s at this point I should mention some facts about this place or more how we came to end up here.

Having almost run out of will power not to buy the whole of Ubud and as we are both permanently in a state of fear that our tans are fading we searched for a part of Bali that would get us back on a beach but away from tanked up Aussies, sports bars and midget wrestling. As it was relatively close to the airport Sanur came out on top. We searched Agoda for a place to stay and a “Star Deal” came up offering a four star hotel with a beach location with a backpacker friendly price tag. The only catch you couldn’t find out what hotel until you complete the booking, we had to go in blind. Totally forgetting the expression, if its too good to be true we clicked OK and thought little more of it.

But as we walked through the deserted hotel hallway things started to click. We arrived at the lobby and woke up two staff, I’m not sure who was more surprised us or them. After a disjointed check in process, a warm glass of concentrated orange juice and being hit in my gentleman sausage by a wild bag handler we were shown to our room.

On first impressions it was large and had all the amenities one expects from a hotel room but once our bags were down we noticed the dust, cigarette butts, stains and other unsightly marks which to us aren’t really an issue, this place still rates as luxury compared to some places we’ve laid our heads down on this trip but it’s certainly not 4 star.

Anyway, we came here with one mission and that was to lounge on the beach. We log onto the WiFi and discover that the beach is over 5km away, as we didn’t fancy the walk down the motorway we went in search of the pool instead. There wasn’t a soul outside, the bar wasn’t stocked, the pool hadn’t been cleaned in its lifetime but the sun was high in the sky and there was a pair of sun loungers with our name on them.

We wrote off the sleepy staff, dirty room and lack of beach and just enjoyed the peace and quiet. We’d certainly been sold a lie of location and star rating but we’d paid so little that we couldn’t really complain. This was about to change when it came to ordering food.

We tracked down a member of staff and asked for a menu, about twenty minutes later someone emerged but instead of coming over to us just stood by the door playing his phone. I took the initiative to ask him if he had a menu, he produced a folded up piece of paper from his pocket with the normal range of Western and Indonesian dishes on it. He quickly informed me that they only had the Indonesian dishes, this isn’t normally a problem but with a vegetation in the house and every item containing Ayem (chicken) things weren’t looking good.

I asked for Nasi Goreng Ayem (Fried Rice with Chicken) but to have it without the chicken. “No have” came the reply. I worked my way through five of the six Indonesian dishes each time asking to exclude the Ayam but each time I got the same answer. However when we reached number six, a chicken and vegetables dish we scored a YES.

We took a seat and waited, about thirty minutes later the staff member came out with two warm glasses of orange juice and told us that the kitchen is closed so the drinks are free but there is no food. We were obviously puzzled how this information hadn’t reached us sooner and wanted to know when the kitchen would be open or if there was a restaurant near by. He gestured over to the rest-room…oh how we laughed.

Sensing that this was a lost cause we went to the reception to enquire about place to eat near by, instead of giving us suggestions they told us to take a seat in their restaurant. We told them that we’d tried to order food but that we were told it was closed, they looked more confused than us and told us to take a seat.

I was starting to get pretty pissed with the situation but wanted to see how this would unfold. We waited for about 15 minutes in an empty and dark restaurant before being greeted by the same staff member as earlier. He didn’t bring over the menu, instead he just recalled our previous order, we nodded and he walked off. I was lost for words, what had just happened!?

My confusion and frustration filled the air and before long the manager came over, he looked suitably nervous. He made no comment on the food but instead asked to take us to see their new roof top pool. He explained that the hotel has recently come under new management and that things were very much in the early stages. We touched on our frustration with the food and staff, he seated us on the roof top and assured us our food would be up soon.

Forty minutes later, or some two hours after originally asking for a menu our food arrived, a portion of rice and a few cabbage leafs. Before I’d even had chance to register what was on my plate the staff member gave me the bill and asked me to pay. Customer service just keeps getting better in this place. I paid the bill of almost £10 and savoured every flavourless mouthful. I was well and truly feeling like I had the word “mug” written on my forehead.

Still, somehow we kept our good temperament, with nothing in the proximity of the hotel to entertain us we went back to the room and exhausted the channels on the TV.

Morning came and we made our way to the restaurant for breakfast, three staff literally ran away and hid behind the counter. We looked around for any hints at how breakfast worked but as the place was in darkness we took a seat outside. The same staff member as yesterday appeared and like a robot repeated our lunch order from yesterday. My calmness vanished, I wasn’t interested in being here for a second more. I asked to speak to the manager, he walked off and we waited.

20 minutes passed and no sign of any one, I less walk more storm into the reception area and demand to speak with the manager. It’s clear from the way he comes out of his office that the staff member never asked for him. I explain to him how unhappy I am with his hotel, his staff, the cleanliness of the room and the complete lack of food available. Seriously could you eat nothing but boiled cabbage three times a day? I explain we are leaving and want a full refund.

Ahmed basically breaks down in front of us, he cant apologise enough and is almost in tears, he asks us what we would like to eat and offers to have it bought to our room. I have absolutely no time for this but Hatty accepts. Totally unaware of the choices available to us we just guess at boiled eggs on toast. We head back to the room, pack our bags and book a new place to stay and ring Agoda to get the refund ball rolling.

The best part of an hour later our breakfast arrives, a cold tea and coffee, four eggs so uncooked they run off the plate and disappear into the unknown, a few slices of partially defrosted bread, a jam substitute and that’s breakfast.

Before we have a chance to be disappointed, Ahmed knocks on the door and asks if he can join us. He wastes no time getting on his knees and begging us to stay, he offers us the suite room, room service, free lifts to any beach or town we want, his gestures get more grand. We explain its too little too late, we’ve booked somewhere else and after breakfast we will be leaving.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen a grown man begging on his hands and knees but let me tell you it is seriously uncomfortable. He agreed to the full refund but continued to offer us upgrade after upgrade but we weren’t biting it. We spoke to Agoda together and the refund was sorted.

Breakfast was so inedible by this stage that we left it, took our bags down to reception and ordered a taxi. Ahmed appeared and said he would take us to our next hotel free of charge. Purely for how awkward that journey would be we declined and said we’d just book a taxi but he insisted.

On the thirty minute car ride he told us that he’d only been the manager for three weeks, the last manager had stolen three billion Rupiah from the hotel (that’s a little over £150,000), as a result the owner of the hotel didn’t have any money to give to Ahmed for things like wages or stock, he was told he would need to make that money from sales of the rooms. The staff hadn’t been paid for three months and hadn’t received tips for over five months. Things very quickly made sense but no matter how dire it all sounded for Ahmed the guy still had a cracking sense of humour. He told us about his family, about his younger more studly days, he was hilarious but he was on the verge of a very big breakdown one which we were inevitably going to be partly responsible for but as heartless as it sounds we couldn’t help him.

As we approached our new hotel he asked if we could let him into our room so he could see how it differed from his hotel, we persuaded him that this wouldn’t be a good idea but did agree to go undercover and take photos of the room, amenities and food for him. As pitiful as that hotel was it was humbling to learn the backstory, I felt like a proper prick complaining about the lack of food when the person serving me hadn’t been paid in three months, speaking to Ahmed grounded me and put life into perspective.

After a heart-warming journey we said goodbye to Ahmed and hello to our old friends at Hotel Horison in Nusa Dua. Just like our last visit here we had one main ambition, to lay by the pool, soak up some sun and do a good stint of proper fuck all. Aside from eating and lounging we managed to watch an entire season of Sons of Anarchy and I had a lovely Face Time session with my brother who is currently living in New Zealand. But I can’t lie, we went full lazy and we’re proud.

After three days of total R&R we woke up 5.30am for our flight to Yogyakarta.

We’d heard Yogyakarta was a bit of shit hole, we’d even read cases of it being dangerous, car bombs, pick pockets and other fearful accounts. Fair enough Yoggy was a bit of dump, boarded up shop fronts, shanty style houses, usual piles of litter burning on the roadside and stray dogs running about but nothing out of the ordinary. But as much as I might be able to agree that it’s tired one thing I cannot agree with it that its dangerous, the people of Yogyakarta from airport staff, bus drivers, people on the street and everyone else in between are without a doubt the friendliest I’ve ever met. That’s more friendly than the Cambodians, Filipinos and even other Indonesians, something I didn’t think was possible.

Everyone we walked past had a smile, gave a wave, said hello. When we struggled to find the road our guesthouse was on there was no shortage of people willing to help, when we travelled into the town people helped us find different landmarks, everyone was welcoming, genuine and most definetly not dangerous.

There are signs of trouble having happened here, so I’m sure my visit is just well timed but whatever has happened it’s not knocked the moral of the people, there isn’t a wild amount to do in this city but come for the people, a day in their company is good for the soul.

After being unimpressed with the sites we went in search of some grub, being Ramadan our options were limited but on our way to the Water Palace we found a tiny hawker stall and scored big. The owner was, in true Yogyakarta fashion delightfully friendly and full of conversation. We picked out the foods (and quantities) that we wanted, we teamed our mound of food with a hot cup of hibiscus tea. I was full to bursting and had enjoyed a delicious meal and some quality conversation so couldn’t believe the bill which came in at less than 50p each.

The following morning arrived and an hour before our 3.30am alarm could go off we were up thanks to the call to prayer. We joined the family for their pre-sunlight breakfast and a bit before 4am got in the car and drove to Borobodur Temple.

The park doesn’t open until 6am but if you pay the on sight hotel a small fee you can enter the park in time for sunrise. Paying this fee was a no brainer for us, we got given a torch each and found our way to the temple, climbed most of the way up and chose a spot and waited for the sun to start the day. Sitting surrounded by giant Stupas atop a 9^th Century temple watching the sunrise from behind Mt Merapi quickly became one of the most magical mornings of my life.

With each moment the light revealed more of our surrounding, large Buddha’s, intricate reliefs and yet more mountains in the distance. It took us about five hours to walk around the whole temple and although it didn’t overtake Bayan or Ta Phrom as my favourite of the trip its high up there.

Talking of height, when we were on the tenth level about to reach enlightenment Hatty tried to cuddle a bee and ended up with its stinger in her arm. Credit to her she didn’t freak out but once I’d removed the stinger her body did what comes naturally to it which is feel faint. I got her sat down and away from the edge and again, credit to her she didn’t faint or throw up. We did obstruct some Chinese tourists taking selfies with Buddha but I’m sure they’ll get over it. We slowly made our way down to the bottom, did a whistle stop tour of the museums and then got back in the car.   

The next morning we caught an early bus to the airport and then a flight to Jakarta, another to Singapore and a final one to Colombo in Sri Lanka, where my next entry picks up from…

As always thanks for reading.

Indonesia Part Three: The Gili Islands

The three main islands are, Gili Air, Gili Meno and Gili Trawangan, each island has its own charms but after some homework we decided that Gili Air was the one for us. Sitting closest to Lombok it is the second largest (or smallest depending on how you look at it) of the three islands, it has plentiful options for sleeping and eating, has many beautiful stretches of beach from which you can snorkel and see wonderful corals, fish and the highlight that is the turtle. There are as few bars and the occasional party but the majority of the island is tucked up in bed by 11pm. There are no motorised vehicles on the island, the only way to travel is either by foot, bicycle or horse. The pace is slow, laid back and friendly, locals and tourists hang together, smile together and live together as one big happy family.

From the island you get views of Lombok and the mighty Rinjani volcano which bursts out of the ground and rockets into the clouds, it draws in the clouds which keep the skies over Gili Air crisp and clear all day long. From other points on the island you can see Gili Meno and beyond that, Bali. As the sun sets the sky fills with dramatic explosions of colour, bright consuming oranges, pinks, reds which reflect off the shallow water and create an enchanting vista. Once night has fallen the skies demand more attention and the stars slowly come into sight, a furiously bright North star, the Southern Cross and then bit by bit more come into focus until the darkness is illunated with bright twinkling gems.

An average day on Gili Air consist of waking up around 6.30am, encouraged by the sunlight coming in through the window and a very keen cockerel. Breakfast is served on the beach looking out to Rinjani, waves lapping near your feet. Most mornings I’d have a banana pancake, fruit salad and a cup of Lombok coffee (some of the best of the trip).

Afterwards I’d lay on a sunbed and soak up some heavenly rays for a couple of hours, cooling down by swimming in the calm blue waters and drinking iced lime juice. Sometimes I would go snorkelling and drift about over the waving corals and pockets of fish, sometimes I’d just return back to the sunbed.

Later we would take a walk along the beach and circle the island, this can be done at a leisurely pace in about one hour, sometimes we might seek refuge from the afternoon sun in a near by drink shack, lounge on the soft cushions sheltered from the sun under a bamboo and straw roof and watch the world go by. Sometimes we would wander the small town, more of a high street of markets and small shops selling local handicrafts, clothes and other gift items.

After such an exhausting day a late afternoon nap would often be required so we would return back to a cool room and rest our weary heads, travelling is hard I tell you.

As the evening drew in we would walk to a spot to watch the sunset, it started early but went on for hours, each stage more intense than the last. I’m sorry Camiguin, Indonesia has got you again.

The choices for an evening meal are some of the best of the trip, although the menus are all fairly similar- BBQ’s fish, Pizza, Mexican or Indonesian each restaurant had its own twist, all of them delicious. The Gado Gado they served at our place was insane and fast became a staple, Gado Gado is a peanut curry, the thick satay sauce is smothered over steamed vegetables like green beans, carrots, beansprouts, spinach, potato there didn’t seem to be any rules to the veg and I didn’t much care as the sauce was so addictive.

Another firm favourite on the island is fresh tuna, either served as a steak that had been BBQ’d or raw and cut into thin slices served with dipping sauces and a dollop of wasabi. The BBQ’d tuna steak would arrive with a roasted vegetable skewer and a jacket potato, this heavenly dish cost no more than £3. One evening we were walking the main strip and being very indecisive about what we wanted to eat, with our stomachs rumbling we went into the closest place and took a seat at one of the tables located on the beach. The moon lit the sky and a gentle breeze came off the sea, I could feel the sand between my toes and as I opened the menu I knew tonight was going to be a good night.

My order arrived, a skewer which measured at least two feet and had a large chunk of tuna steak, beef steak and chicken separated by peppers, onions, chilies plus other varieties of grilled vegetables. The meat was succulent and melted in my mouth, the chicken was lightly marinated in a spicy sauce and the complementary jacket potato and Indonesian style coleslaw made for a filling dinner. It cost, like most meals here, no more than £3 and was outstanding.

Gili Air really isn’t short of good eats, from traditional Indonesian fare like Gado Gado, Nasi Goreng and Olah-Olah to fresh and authentic  Italian, Spanish and Greek dishes there is something for everyone. Desserts are also popular on the island, pancakes, grilled bananas and every flavour of ice cream you’ve ever dreamt of, almost every restaurant serves quality food and at absurdly reasonable prices. If you add to this to setting in which you enjoy these meals it’s a sure fire winner for best place to eat on the trip.

I think at this stage I should mention that when we arrived on Gili Air we had only booked to stay for two nights, we had intentions of moving to other islands and later heading back to Bali to a place called Ubud. We first extended our stay on Gili Air to six days and later tried to extend this to two weeks but were only able to get accommodation for 10 days. It was fair to say we were hooked on the island life and who could blame us.

Our time on Gili Air wasn’t all eating and lounging we did also get up and out and do a few activities. The first of these was on day two when we hired a transparent canoe which was a brilliant way to explore the crystal clear waters around the island. The water stays fairly shallow and once you’re about 50m from the shore the coral comes to life, there are pockets of fish darting about below you, the canoe was in many ways better than snorkelling because you weren’t intruding on the fish so they stuck around for longer.

We’d been paddling for about twenty minutes when we saw a couple who were snorkelling, they called out to that they’d just seen a turtle. Of course we made our way over to them instantly, they dived down to try and spot him them pointed us in the direction, after a bit of toing and froing we looked down to see him glide under the bottom of the canoe it was really awesome, we tried to keep up with him but as he swerved this way and that we struggled to turn the cumbersome beast that was the canoe around fast enough.

A few days later we took a boat over to Gili Meno, the next island on which we’d heard was even better for turtle sightings. After visiting the turtle sanctuary we hired some snorkels and swam out in search of this majestic animal. Unlike Air, Meno’s waters have a stronger current and the sea bed in abundant in sea urchins. It was like one big prickly forest down there, their evil black spines waved in a taunting manor, their shimmering blue “eyes” followed you, eyeing up your soft skin, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot  you, fill your delicate feet, legs, hands with their poison.

If you’ve read my Thailand blog you’ll know I’ve had a run in with these spiky pricks already and so to say I was cautious around them was an understatement. As I swam over them I sucked my stomach in and lifted my limbs as high as I could, I held my breath and tried to do everything in my power not to disrupt them. They are temperamental and aggressive and they really bloody hurt.

Surrounding these sea demons was some magnificent examples of coral, nipping in and out of the coral were brightly coloured fish, bright blues, yellows, reds. It was a colourful and energetic place to behold, the fish was more cautious than we’d experienced at other sights but I’d say that was more to do with the urchins than us.

As we swam out further the dark forest dissipated to just a few patches here and there which made the experience considerably less stressful. With every 10m we swam out the coral got brighter and more extravagant and the fish danced around in bigger groups, there was so much activity down there that I was constantly chopping and changing my direction as something else caught my eye. I was chasing this large rainbow coloured fish when I heard a sound echo through the water.

I turned instantly and saw a frantic Hatty pointing and gesturing out in front of us, I swam over and there he was, an adult turtle he was huge and magnificent. I swam closer to get a good look at him but he was busy having a fight with three fish, they kept darting in and nipping him as he batted them off with his flipper, his grumpy face said it all. I tried to get Hatty to swim in front so I could get a photo of them together but she was too wary of his beak, to be fair it did look like it could do some damage. I got close enough that the fish scuttled off and Mr Turtle went on about his day, floating to the top and then slowly drifting back down. He had a real can’t be arsed attitude about life, like he’d been given the short straw. I loved how moody he was and swam with him for about ten minutes before letting him have some peace and quiet.

Gili Meno is the smallest of the three main Gili islands and was easily walkable, we circled the whole island and stopped off at regular spots to swim in the clear waters and lounge on the white sands. The beaches on Meno, especially near the turtle sanctuary were superior to the ones on Air but the actual island was way too sleepy for us to want to stay on it. The accommodation was mostly set up for honeymooners or people on yoga retreats.

Later in the week we visited the third island, Gili Trawangan or Gili T as its more commonly known. This is the largest of the three islands and the most heavily populated. It has rows of ATM’s, K-Marts and traffic! Unlike Air and Meno where you could be the only soul in sight, T is crowded. The hustle and bustle of people and horses rushing about the place make it attractive for those looking for the beautiful scenery and a bit of party atmosphere. The main strip is rammed with bars, with boards outside offering drinks deals, even advertising themselves as the “No1 pre-drinking bar”. It’s certainly a more lively animal than its neighbours. But despite this there are still plenty of charming spots around the island which continue to display the calm, loving good will spirit of the Gili’s.

We arrived on Gili T and for some reason I was in a shockingly bad mood, how I could possibly be moody having not worked for the past 5 months and basically just spent my time hopping from country to country exploring everything wonderful and beautiful that the world has to offer I’m not sure. But I was in shocker of a mood. A proper case of “woke up on the wrong side”.

After an hour of being thunder faced Hatty dragged me for a walk along the beach and slowly my mood dissipated, we walked past a restaurant that was advertising Lamb Kofte. I have craved kofte almost every day since we left Nha Trang in Vietnam, I was teased by the menus in Arab Street in Singapore but couldn’t warrant the prices but now on Gili the price was right. We took a seat I placed my order and as we waited we shared a jug of sangria. These factors quickly lifted my mood and we started the day again.

After lunch we carried along the beach where we found a swing that had been set up out in the sea, no matter how old you are when you see a swing you have to go on it. Maybe it was the Sangria but swinging about in the sea was a lot of fun, I turned into a diva and made Hatty push me. A lot.

We left Gili T later that afternoon and made our way back to our home island where my body decided to refuse everything I had eaten and drunk that day. For the next 24 hours I was a train wreck, I was expelling inhumane amounts of liquid out of my bottom on a terrifyingly regular basis. On average I visited the toilet every 30 minutes and as I emptied my insides I became increasingly withered. My muscles and bones ached, my eyes were super sensitive to light as were my ears to sound. Each time I tried to eat or drink my body turned the countdown timer on and within moment I was back on throne.

The following morning, feeling very delicate but thankfully more dried up we checked out of the Gilis and caught the fast boat over to Bali on our way to Ubud, but for that story you’ll have to wait until next time.

As always thanks for reading.

 

Indonesia Part Two: Labuanbajo to Gili Air

We knew before we set off this morning that we had a long journey ahead of us, some reports say it takes 24 hours some as much as 36 but we could never fully plan for what the journey actually entailed. The plan was to catch a ferry from Labuanbajo to Sape, a mini bus to Bima, a sleeper bus and a ferry to Lombok, a taxi to the pier and a local boat to the Gili islands. We knew the first ferry didn’t depart until 9am but as the tickets were sold on a first come first served basis you had to get down there early to guarantee a place for the 6 hour crossing. We stood, first in line at 6.30am and were soon joined by two Chinese ladies who were in their mid to late 50’s.

As we waited tickets touts came round and offered us bundle deals for the ferry and the bus journeys to Bima, they wanted 400,000IDR per person which is about £20 but the official ticket office sold the ferry tickets for 60,000IDR (£3) and we had read that the buses wouldn’t amount to any more than 250,000IDR each (£12), a £10 saving is a big deal to us so this was the route we took.

In order to secure this we needed the ticket booth to open soon as the touts were filling the boat up with people either less interested in saving money or unaware of the fact they were paying a premium.

7am came and still the office wasn’t open, the Chinese ladies, who spoke no English but instead conversed with us through an app on their phone explained that they wanted to go to Lombok and do it for as cheap as possible. As we obviously exuded confidence in our knowledge of the journey we became surrogate parents to them.

Around 7.30am the ticket office opened and we purchased our tickets and two more for our children, we made our way to the ferry and found a seat. The kids asked how long the boat would take, to which we replied, “6 hours”, they seemed a little depressed at this response but came back with, “then we in Lombok?”, we shook our heads, “boat, bus, boat, bus 24 hours then Lombok”. “Oh WOW” came the reply, this time from them not the screen of the phone. They found a seat and set about taking photos of everything from the scenery outside to groups of Western backpackers, some very extreme close ups of western backpackers.

The ferry remained in the harbour and steadily filled up with passengers, luggage, live stock and just about anything else you can imagine. Our Chinese ladies wondered off and returned with gifts of bananas and oranges and other purchases they’d made from the hawkers. We had eaten their fruit we were now indebted to them, we had adopted them.

9am came and went, as did half past and 10am, still the boat remained in the harbour. We were approaching five hours into the trip and we hadn’t even left Labuanbajo yet. The hours rolled by watching our offspring barter with the hawkers for watches, sunglasses and yet more food. Their iPads had run out of battery and their phones were low too, I was scared for them as the journey hadn’t even begun and they had used up all their resources.

Around 10.30am the boat sounded its frog horn and pulled away from the shore and we began our journey. The ferry ride vanished thanks to the mesmerising scenery outside, we sailed past uninhabited islands and volcanoes which jutted out of the ocean and sometimes high into the clouds, we went past Komodo island which was stunning to see from afar, in the sky we saw eagles circle the waters and dive down to catch some fish, a pod of about twenty dolphins swam beside the boat for a while, darting and diving around in the water. It was a magical experience, one that made the six hours disappear in an instant.

When the ferry arrived at Sape there was another boat still in the harbour, traditionally you would wait for this to leave before docking but in Indonesia the method is somewhat different. Pull up alongside, climb out of the small windows of one ferry and through the windows of the other, then work your way through the boat, down the stairs and onto dry land. This is an adventurous task made all the more entertaining when you have a 15kg bag on your back and another on your front. Of course our bewildered and bemused Chinese ladies, who had wheely suitcases and half a dozen carrier bags of stuff they’d bought on the boat (one was actually wearing two hats) found the whole ordeal to be quite difficult. Lady two hats actually got wedged between the two boats at one point and it took three of us to unhook her from one boat and shove her onto the other one.

After about ten minutes of them gathering up their belongings we escorted them off the boat and into the crowds of touts who were angling to get you on their bus, offers of 300,000pp to get to Lombok were instantly ignored and with each step the price plummeted, we settled on a deal of 150,000pp and were ushered over to a series of beat up old buses. Our luggage was thrown on the roof and we were piled inside, Hatty got a seat, shared with about four others while I got the passenger seat beside the driver, our Chinese ladies shared the engine box.

The driver, dressed in camo trousers and an open, sleeveless denim jacket with a matted bear like chest on display barked and howled and laughed as we all crammed in. He was high as a bloody kite no question of it and as unfit as he was to drive so to was the bus unfit to be driven. The windscreen was smashed, all the electrics were missing from the dashboard, the gearstick had become nothing more than a coat hanger and I can promise you the rate of the breaks were no better.

When the bus was full to bursting he fired up the old engine which spluttered and blew out a cloud of thick smoke before he jumped on the accelerator and drove head on into a group of four men carrying a mattress, they used it as a shield and got out of the way, it flew across the window and into the road, the view cleared just long enough for him to hard steer us out of a head on with another bus, the furious swerve titled the bus and we almost lost one the children.

We left the bus park having only killed about twenty people and into the town, I was instantly taken back to that first night driving through Agra in India. Goats, children, trucks just about anything that could be in the way was in the way, the driver who was absolutely loving every second did little to avoid these obstacles, he just pounded the horn and cackled like a man possessed.

It hadn’t been entirely clear to us whether this would be the bus to Bima (2 hours) or the one to Lombok (in excess of 10 hours). I decided to stop look out the front window and instead tried to wedge myself in a position that would hopefully allow me to survive the night on the fun bus.

We screamed around the mountain roads, often never leaving the lower gears, the engine squealed at an ear shattering volume, the breaks failed on the downhills and the bus never got any speed on the uphill. The driver was more concerned with his phone than the road and would often severely overcompensate when he veered too close to the edge of the mountain road causing us to snake wildly. I had long since written off my luggage, I had my wallet and my passport on me which gave me comfort, not because I could continue my travels but more so they could identify by body when they found it amongst the wreckage after the bus inevitably burst into flames as it flew of the mountain edge.

After I had said my blessings I took a moment to look out of the side window and was treated to some truly heavenly visuals, the rolling mountain landscape offset with different shades of greens from the rice paddies to the dark forests were stunning, the sky was getting fired up as the sun began to drop, purples and reds sprouted out and silhouetted the mountains and a soft glow entered through the cracked windscreen.

We drove up behind a similar bus which was loaded with passengers both inside and on the roof, they were all clinging on for their life as the bus swung them about in its quest to drive as barbarically as possible. The majority of those on the roof were Westerners who I assume thought it would make a good story but once the bus set off I would be surprised if they felt the same. Lady two hats came up beside me with another iPad and began to furiously take photos of the bus in front, I lost count after 30 clicks.

We pulled over briefly to, I assume pick someone up, the driver was beeping his horn and shouting out the window (at nothing), no one got off, no one got on but while this scene unfolded two goats were having a fight on the side of the road, one head butted one on the edge of the pavement and before their hooves had hit the ground we were off again.

Two hours later and we arrived at another bus station where we were offloaded, reconnected with our bags and ushered to another bus. This was a larger coach style bus in slightly better repair, it had the traditional broken windscreen and knock and scrape but on the whole looked safe and comfortable.

We paid 200,00IDR for the mini bus and coach, I’m not sure where the 50,000 (£2.50) increase came from, maybe it was the cost of the thrill ride…whatever the reason I was happy to be alive. Our total price per person from Labuanbajo to Lombok stands at 290,000IDR (£14) which we considered a success on the price we were quoted back in LBJ, the Chinese weren’t so happy. They typed on their phones and showed me, “cheap? Too expensive!”. They then started to draw numbers in the air with their fingers which obviously made no sense. I gave them the calculator on my phone and they typed in 200,000IDR and made gestures to the tune of “this is what we were told in Labuanbajo”.

We were now in a very awkward situation where we had managed to get a decent deal for ourselves, adopted two Chinese tourists and ended up costing them money. The embarrassment continued when they refused to pay the tout anymore than 150,000IDR. Lady two hats actually rolled up the money, gave it to him and walked off leaving him following us and shouting for the extra money.

No one else we spoke to at the bus station had managed to get the full journey for any less than 300,000IDR so we struggled to believe that these ladies who firstly had no idea what the journey entailed, secondly how long it would take and thirdly had zero ability of communicating could actually get it for 200,000, they were simply trying to pull as fast one or at best were very confused about what the 200,000 was for. We were a little stumped they didn’t mention “their price” before we went ahead and booked the tickets but that was fast approaching 15 hours ago and wasn’t worth the argument.

We managed to calm the tout and get the Chinese onside who eventually pay the extra  50,000 and board the bus.

The bus leaves the station after about 45 minutes and as its engine fires up we learn that we have secured ourselves seats aboard the “karaoke bus”, from about 7.30pm until midnight the Indonesian tunes blared out of a load speaker about six inches from my face, unreadable words flashed up on a tiny monitor at the front of the bus and not a soul sang along, with the exception of the drivers assistant who loved every minute. The music ranged from traditional folk, RnB, rab, death metal and just about every genre known to man.

The driver, not to break the mould drove the bus like a complete lunatic, the pounding music was drowned out by the repetitive drilling of the horn and screeching of the tyres. The back of the bus filled with the unmistakable stench of a burning clutch and as we skated around corners the toilet door would fling open filling the coach with a potent whiff of stale urine. Ahhh backpacking, it’s the life.

At midnight we pulled over to a service station where we were handed a voucher entitling us to a buffet dinner, this was actually pretty decent and offered delights such as soups, curries and the normal noodle and rice dishes. We shared a table with the Chinese who had slept the whole way through the journey, they had about six bowls of food each and were eating from them like a big does a trough. It was a sight to behold.

The driver sounded his horn and as we well know this means “stop-what-you-are-doing-and-get-the-heck-back-on-the-bus-unless-you-want-to-be-left-here”. We pushed our plates to the side and climbed back on the bus, the Chinese seemed less rushed and more intent on finishing our half empty bowls.

The engine fired up once more and the wheels started turning, our crazy companions ran alongside and jumped back on to join us, armed with stolen buffet goods and yet more offerings of fruit. They passed these about before reclining their chairs and falling back to sleep like good little babies.

The bus drove onto the ferry around 2am, we exited the bus and found a quiet spot on the deck, the night air was cool and the moon illuminated the sea, its dark waves crashed against the side of the boat creating a calming rocking motion. We took in the fresh air and stretched our legs and watched as the night slowly day.

The ferry arrived on Lombok around 4.30am and we boarded the bus for the final leg of this journey. Its at this point I fell into a comatose sleep and didn’t bat an eyelid until I was woken by the conductor telling us we were at the bus station where the journey terminates.

We had been told that the bus would go to Mataram, which is reletivily close to the port where we would catch another boat to Gili Air but instead the bus had dropped us the compete opposite end of Lombok island. The taxi from wherever we were to the port was quoted at 400,000IDR, the taxi from Mataram should have been 75,000IDR so you can imagine how far away we were.

We managed to barter the driver down to 200,000IDR for both of us, we bid farewell to the kids and carried on our journey. The taxi ride took about an hour and gave us a high speed tour of Lombok island which was every bit as beautiful as the rest of Indonesia, it reminded me of Camiguin and that’s no bad thing. We drove moneys and children off the road before eventually being dropped outside “Bunga Bunga cafe”.

It was now about 8am and the boat to Gili Air wasn’t due to leave until 9am so we ordered some breakfast, I had a Jaffle or as you may know it, a cheese toastie and a strong cup of Lombok coffee. After breakfast we walked 15 minutes towards the port and went into the first place that was selling tickets to Gili Air. Outside the sign advertised the tickets at 12,000IDR each but the man inside was much keener to sell us tickets for the speed boat at 385,000IDR each, that’s our £0.60 to his £19. This was obviously not going to happen despite his stories of the cheap boat not leaving until it had 50 people on it and so far he only had our names…he tried to cut us a deal for the speed boat to Gili Air and then later a fast boat to Bali and a bus to Ubod. This is a journey we plan to take but with no concrete plans and his prices we moved on.

A further five minutes down the road we find the official government ticket office who sell the cheap boat for 12,000IDR plus 6,000IDR tax but despite having this on their sign they don’t actually sell the tickets. We are gestured to a shed on the edge of the sand and make our way over there where we finally purchase two tickets to Gili Air for 12,000IDR each, no tax.

We join a large group of locals and wait for the boat to arrive. Within ten minutes its there but before we can get on it is loaded with large baskets of fruit, vegetables, fish and a few unspecified bags. The entire floor space is piled with goods, next go on the motorbikes and other machines before finally the call comes out for the passengers to climb aboard. Around 50 people jostle their way onto the boat and as they shimmy along the seats the boat sways heavily in the water. Fitting us and our backpacks on is a job only the Tetris expert should attempt. Hatty gets a seat while I stand precariously on the edge of the boat.  Within ten minutes its fully loaded and we’re off.

The crossing takes no more than 20 minutes and we climb off the boat, wade through the water an onto the soft sands of Gili Air. Hatty is laughing so I ask whats tickled her, she points at a man in front of us then down at the sack he’s holding. It’s wriggling about.

Inside is a live chicken which had been on the boat with us, besides Hatty. The whole time it had been pecking her foot. Brilliant.

The only transport on Gili Air is by horse and cart and as this is it they run a monopoly, a short ride costs about £5. Well we weren’t about to undo all our good work so we used our legs and set off around the island in search of our place to stay.

Gili Air is small but when you’ve been travelling nonstop for almost 30 hours your bags start to feel very heavy, especially in the heat. We arrive at Star Bar a soggy, exhausted mess. Check into our room, shower, order an ice cold lime juice and pull up a space on the white sandy beach. We have arrived.

Tune in next time for our adventures on Gili Air, Gili Meno and Gili T.

As always thanks for reading.

Indonesia Part One- Bali and Flores

We arrived in a sunny Bali around mid-afternoon, booked a taxi and met a friendly, Hawaiian shirt wearing driving who took us to our 4 star hotel. Anyone who says backpacking is about roughing it clearly doesn’t use the booking website- Agoda, we secured a £140 room in the Horison hotel for £17, including buffet breakfast.

The hotel was a little out of the main town but fitted our plans perfectly as we were only using this visit to Bali as somewhere to secure all our transport to Labuanbajo, Rinca, Lombok and the Gili islands, we are also returning back to Bali later on to see temples, volcanoes and the occasional beach so this suited us perfectly. We utilised the strong WiFi, buffet breakfast, pool and Bali sunshine for three days, did a fair bit of swimming but in truth we did sweet FA.

The real Indonesian adventure started when we arrived in Labuanbajo, one of the main islands in the Flores region and the gateway to Rinca island, aka Komodo National Park. I am the biggest fan of the Komodo Dragon, for as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by these prehistoric giants and dreamt of the day I’d see them in the wild. But like so many things in life I assumed my chances of ever getting to Komodo National Park was nothing more than a pipe dream, so when we arrived in Labuanbajo and booked our boat to Rinca for the following morning it is fair to say I was excited. In fact I didn’t really sleep much that night, like a kid at Christmas I was absolutely buzzing at the prospect of seeing my reptilian idol in his natural habitat. 

That evening one of the guesthouse staff, who we’d booked the boat through knocked on our door and told us that the trip couldn’t happen tomorrow. My heart sunk but thankfully this was not the case, what he meant was that they hadn’t found anyone else to go on the boat so we’d be going by ourselves…Dragons and a private boat it was getting better.

We set off early the next morning and travelled the two hours to Rinca, the landscape was spellbinding, I swore when I left the Philippines that I’d seen paradise, I’d seen the best the earth had to offer but this journey trumped anything I saw there, or anywhere else for that matter. My jaw spent the whole journey on the floor, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The endless water was still like a millpond and clear as anything, the sky was perfectly blue and all around us were hundreds of volcanic formed islands, jutting high out of the sea, the slopes were covered in greenery. Each time you thought there were clouds in the sky you’d realise they were in fact just more islands in the distance. The waters here have Dolphins, sharks, tuna, barracuda and all many fish in them and from time to time we’d see things leap out of the water in the distance. In the air were eagles which circled and dived into the waters.

Absolutely nothing broke your view of mother nature, it was pure and untouched and like nothing I’d ever seen before. The view was so spectacular I almost forgot why I was even here.

But as we moored up beside a sign welcoming us to Komodo National Park I very quickly remembered, we were met by a guide who took as to the main office where we paid our fees, picked our route then set off.

My hopes and dreams of seeing a wild Komodo Dragon were now in the hands of lady luck, Rinca is ginormous, thickly covered with trees, swamps and plenty of places for the dragons to hide the odds were not in my favour but if I was ever going to see one it had to be today.

“DRAGON!!”

We’d only been on the island five minutes and there he was, a 30 year old, 2.5 metre male Komodo Dragon, he walked with a swagger onto the path, past my feet and over to a shaded spot under a tree, laid on his belly, legs akimbo, head down and into a sleepy slumber. I was mesmerised, an actual Komodo Dragon was mere feet away from me. Our guide got his stick at the ready while I was able to move closer and take some photos, I only have a 18-55mm lens and so I had to get close to get the shot. It was surreal, I was living out my dream, I felt at peace with them but the guide wasn’t so keen on me testing this new friendship.

We carried on the trek when Hatty was promptly stopped by the guides stick across her front.

“DRAGONS!!”

The sleepy beasts are so well camouflaged that she hadn’t seen that she was about to step on not one, not two but three adult dragons. We moved back out of nibbling distance and again took a moment to enjoy their company. Two of the dragons were fast asleep, one against a tree and another on the ground, a large male waddled between them, licking them. It looked like he was looking for someone to hang with but they were too sleepy to give a damn. The sleepy male started to snore which was hilarious, the noise was enchanting and a little disturbing. The bored dragon came closer to us so I got Hatty to grab a few photos of me with my mates but as he was getting a bit more active the guide moved us on again.

We turned the corner when something scuttled in front of us, this time it was a young dragon. Unlike the laid back, sluggish adults this one was youthful and spritly. The guide was significantly more wary of him even though he was considerably smaller, less than one metre and thin as anything. But one nip from him and the big boys would soon liven up so we kept our distance from that one.

Komodo’s are capable of eating half their body weight in one sitting, for an average adult male that means dinner can weigh 40kg. They eat any and all types of meat, whole monkeys or pigs, deer, horse, other dragons there really isn’t much that’s safe on the island. They have two techniques for hunting, for smaller animals like the monkeys or baby pigs they just lay and wait in their path then grab them and swallow whole. For the larger animals, water buffalo, horse and so on they utilise the bacteria in their mouth, administer a fatal bite then stalk to the animal for as many days as it takes for the infection to kill them, then when the animal is weak they move in for supper. Some people say they are lazy, I say they are efficient.

We past a Komodo nest where we learnt that we are just outside of mating season, this is good news for us, for had we been a month later then all the males would be fighting and the females who’d laid eggs would be nipping at our heels. I love these beasts but my compassion for them probably wouldn’t put me in any better sted if one made eyes for my tasty trimmings. At over 2 metres long, 90kg they are big, they can run, climb, swim, stand on their hind legs, have a killer bite, viciously sharp claws and a taste for flesh, I’d be a goner.

Females lay around 30 eggs, around 80% of these survive, 20% become feed for snakes, eagles and other dragons. The mother is very protective of her nest, which is dug some 2 metres underground and surrounded by numerous dummy nests to put snoopy dragons off the scent. Once the dragon eggs hatch the young quickly learn to make it up to the tree for protection from a hungry mum. That’s right, once they hatch the maternal façade vanishes and the truth comes out, she was just protecting her lunch.

We encountered a troop of lively monkeys who looked to be setting up an ambush on anyone who had a packed lunch, thankfully they didn’t target us. We stepped over our fair share of fresh water buffalo poo but didn’t see any of the culprits.

We climbed to one of the peaks on the island which offered a surreal, Jurassic Park esque vista, the park was quiet and we were the only people around for miles which made the experience even more special. We went through the jungle, over the swamps and streams but didn’t encounter anymore dragons, that was until we began our walk back to the boat when we saw one in the distance, my belief is that he had popped over to bid us farewell, I’m sure he cocked his hand and gave us a little wave. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

We departed Rinca island and made our way to a neighbouring Kalong island to do some snorkelling. This was initially disappointing, we swam out but there was little more than a few clusters of dead coral, no fish in sight but as we swam around the other side of the boat the ocean came to life.

Corals of greens, purples and oranges and schools of fish darting about around them it was a proper fishy playground and a truly fascinating sight to behold. This marine life was so rich and densely populated it made our ultimate snorkelling experience off Mantigue island in the Philippines look rather bland. We bobbed about for the best part of two hours the whole time experiencing new fish, more coral and an altogether more exciting underwater world than I’d ever known. I know I am guilty of repeatedly saying that whatever I am doing is the “best I’ve ever done” but I really mean it when I say it, this trip has gone from strength to strength and just as I thought I’d seen the best of the world in the Philippines it was fast becoming apparent that Indonesia was about to go one level up. We enjoyed our time at this site so much that we actually ran out of time to visit the second island we had planned, maybe it would be better still but after spending the day in this landscape, seeing wild Komodo Dragons and having such a breath-taking underwater experience my senses were well and truly overloaded. We cruised back to the mainland and departed at Labuanbajo, climbed the brutally steep hill towards our guesthouse, showered and crashed out.

With our Labuanbajo bucket list well and truly fulfilled we spend the next day lounging about, our guesthouse offers superb views out across the harbour and so its no choir at all to sit on the balcony with a book.

For lunch we head into the small town to a place on the front called Mediteraneo, Hatty orders a raw Tuna salad and I have the triple decker Barracuda steak with potatoes and veg, its delicious and afterwards we continue our day of slumber. We lay back on our beanbag chairs and enjoy a large glass of very fruity sangria, soundtrack of the ocean and a cool breeze flowing through the open sided restaurant. It’s a hard life we live.

The day runs away and its soon time for dinner, we pick Made in Italy as our evening hangout not simply because of the brilliant pizzas they do but also for its vantage point for sunset. As we share a fresh pizza and sip on ice cold lime juice the sky begins to fill with oranges, pinks, reds, they dance around the sky, highlight clouds and volcanoes and create an altogether magical end to what will be a truly memorable few days.

The following morning we start at 5.30am with a quick breakfast and then a nail biting ride to the marina on the back of a motorbike, complete with backpacks. We sit in line waiting for the ticket office to open to buy our boat tickets to Lombok. We have a 30 hour journey ahead of us but for that story you’ll just have to wait.

As always thanks for reading.