Archive for September, 2009
Bats and the Huntress
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009
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Back to Nature
Monday, September 14th, 2009
What a better way to get back to nature than to hike for days into the rainforest and then to throw aside all human possessions and veils, like clothes and camping gear, (but not the camera! the camera is a part of me…) and run wild through the rain, through the leaves and the river until… Until a group of locals walks through that seemingly secluded spot we’ve chosen, sending us scrambling for our raincoats, pulling them over our naked wet bodies, huddling next to the fire and mumbling something in Russian in answer to: “So… Can we join you?”
Taman Negara – the very inventively named National Par, (Taman meaning “Park” and Negara meaning “National”) was the first of our two stops in Malaysia. We really just dropped in for a few days because our Indonesian visa was expiring and we had leave and re-enter Indonesia to get another month long visa. Malaysia turned out to be a very developed and clean country where even truck drivers in remote places speak English, and hitchhiking in dirty trousers is simply embarrassing. Taman Negara didn’t make my trousers any cleaner, especially after crawling on all four in a bat cave at the end of a four day hike.
This wasn’t an easy hike. The path we took was along one of the two big river streams. Smaller brooks kept snaking through the path, looking to join the main flow, sending us rolling down and climbing up every few steps. I was pleasantly surprised of the perseverance of my travel mates. For this leg we’ve reunited with , and were also joined by her friend , and dreidrenator’s boyfriend. Long legs or short, plenty of hiking experience or not – everybody kept up, never gave up, and never made themselves a burden to the others never mind the sweat, blood, or the bruises. In fact, the only ones who gave up were my fancy-shmancy Teva hiking sandals who ate some mud, got scared, and dropped their soles on the first day of the hike. I went on in my flip-flops and socks which was especially charming as I also managed to burn through the socks that evening while trying to dry them by the campfire. If this wasn’t fun enough, hungry leaches bit into our legs and feet, spat out the 100% DEET we’ve been counting on for protection, and bit again leaving behind itchy wounds that wouldn’t stop bleeding until the anticoagulant the buggers left behind wore off.
us in the rain and campfire smoke
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Komodo Dragons
Friday, September 11th, 2009
We came, we saw, we left unimpressed. The endemic, deadly, and last of their kind – Komodo dragons – were sunbathing right next to the staff kitchen and couldn’t care less about what was happening around them. “You are so lucky to see them, he-he” said our mandatory guide wielding a big stick. “Don’t they always hang around here?” I asked knowing very well (from several online reports) they most certainly do. “Yes. You are very lucky. Maybe they not here today, he-he,” replied the guide.
mating season
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Stasya in Wunderwaterland
Thursday, September 10th, 2009
Am I late?! I checked my watch – no, it’s seven in the morning – the perfect time to fall down the rabbit’s hole. “One. Two. Three. Go!” At the last moment I catch a glimpse of the rabbit – it bares a strange resemblance to a pair of fins crossed over each other. Boom! Pshshsh… Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles… I’m falling slowly, letting this far from imaginary world float by me. I want to grab some jelly from the shelf but it has a “don’t touch!” tag on it. That’s just as well – it’s poisonous anyway.
This world taught me how to fly, or more accurately – I had to learn if I wanted to see it, be part of it, and not destroy or even disturb it in the process. Now, if only I left behind a trail of fading sparks, and had a set of dragonfly wings where I now have the scuba tank, and I’d fit into this magical world much better. On second thought, actually, scratch the wings and get me some green tights and a hat with a feather instead.
I stroll though the garden not touching the ground. Sometimes, passing current whisks me away, and I have to hold onto a rock with two fingers letting the flow pummel me. My body flaps like a rag doll, and I finally let go letting the water carry me away.
Wondrous creatures with wandering eyes follow me curious and cautious. They hide in crimson, maroon, carroty, and seemingly greenish but really pink trees. There is no sitting on the grass, no picking flowers – everything here is alive, be it rose or a vase, and will make its objection painfully clear to those who might like a souvenir. It’s easy to find here a sea cucumber blowing bubbles while sitting on a mushroom coral. His advice will be subtle and ambiguous. I will lose myself in his countless bumps and creases enough to just politely nod my head when he is done explaining and proceed in the direction he is pointing at.
Manta drift dive next to Batu Bolong
Batu Bolong
Sebayor Kecil
Mini Wall – Night Dive
Tatawa Kecil
Siaba Kecil
Tatawa Besar
Gili Lawa Darat – Night Dive
Castle Rock
The Cauldron
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Coming to Komodo
Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009
The man sleeping on the bar awoke, stretched, then picked up two kittens that hungrily scoured the restaurant’s floor, and began kissing them. When he was finally done, and his sleepy gaze fell upon us, his eyes flew wide open and beamed not with question but with understanding. The ferry arrived to Labuan Bajo at three in the morning, and we spent the rest of the night like so many people before us on the spacious benches of the outdoor restaurant “The Lounge” in the dark and quiet of the small town. Perhaps the big sign “Free WiFi” is their guiding light for midnight visitors – I know it was ours.
Earlier in the week we’ve tested the theory that island hopping from Bali to Flores by hitchhiking on big cargo tucks is cheaper (because it’s free) and more comfortable then any bus full of children trying to out-scream the squawking of the chickens, chain-smoking men, and rotting fruit. Not only you save the bus on the bus fare, you don’t have to pay for the ferries either: once the truck driver pays for his car to go on the ferry, nobody (including the truck driver) cares who and how many are in the cab, so by catching a truck our budget also caught a little break.
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Kooky Kuta
Tuesday, September 1st, 2009
Kuta – a vibrant and teeming with tourists beach town – settled down as night fell and covered everything around with scarce light from lampposts and the occasional car or motorbike passing by. We were celebrating Masha’s () birthday by the water, with the sound of the waves and the oceans salty breeze reminding me I was yet to see all that there was to see in its blue kingdom. “You are Jewish?” asked me Masha’s CouchSurfing host – a Russian guy who now lived near Kuta after having walked halfway to Indonesia barefoot. “I never even knew what a Jew looks like…” his voice somewhere between surprised and questioning. “Like me,” I answered.
We ate grapes and cheese, drank some cheap but surprisingly good wine, and when it got too late for drinking (that would be when all the bottles were empty) set up a little camp on the beach with the rest of Masha’s friends scattered near by on sleeping mats under the stars. There wasn’t enough room in our tent for everybody, but we did fit the birthday girl in.
The next morning I had a job to do. My internet publisher from InTheKnowTraveler.com, for whom I’ve already written quite a few big and small articles in the past year, has asked me to review and write about a hotel or two on Bali. Wholeheartedly adoring cheap, atmospheric, and dingy accommodations I was scared to death of posh resorts, those who run them, and those who stay in them, but even more so of the fact I will end up with absolutely nothing interesting and worth while to write about. I chose only one – Bali Dynasty Resort – even though several others (including Hayatt!) offered to take me “and partner” in for a complimentary night. I must admit, a night in a spacious room with a flush toilet (and toilet paper!), hot shower, a flat screen TV, and fluffy towels wouldn’t be that such a nightmare (though definitely reverse culture shock), but when given the choice I much preferred spending the only night we set aside for Kuta on a beach with friends. Nevertheless, I did want to try my hand in that sort of journalism as well (Who knows? Maybe a nice vacation from writing nature travel guides would be hopping from one five star resort to the next and giving them thorough reviews in exchange for the luxuries they provide), so I graciously accepted a simple lunch instead to conduct a short interview.
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