a travelogue for a solo cross-country motorcycle road trip from Tampa, Florida to San Diego, California in 2008 and an overland attempt from Singapore to Morocco from November 2004 to August 2006
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Headed to Flores
Kuta is a big tourist town for Australians and Europeans. There were loads of tourist shops, bars, and losmans (guesthouses). Everywhere touts were trying to get my attention for "transport?" or renting a motorcycle or marijuana. It was fun and exciting to be there, but also exhausting from being assaulted every few feet. Lots of people come to Bali to get drunk and party in Kuta, but I was getting tired of that place and had to leave.
From Kuta, I was able to catch a ride on a couple bemos to Sanur. "Bemos" are minivans that drive around looking for people to pick up. It's the public transportation system to get around short distances (and even long ones). Basically they have benches built into the back of the minivans and drive around with their door open, always slowing down and honking, to pickup more passengers. I learned a few Balinese phrases and the numbers in Indonesian, so I was able to bargain and get the local price for part of the trip to Sanur; most bemo drivers can't speak English so it helps to learn some Indonesian. Speaking the local language, specifically Balinese, always put a smile on the faces of the locals. There are about 300 different languages in Indonesia (different languages, not just dialects), but the official language is Indonesian. I learned simple phrases which sometimes impressed the locals into giving me a fairer price or maybe confused them into thinking I was living here.
Sanur is on the east coast of the small peninsula that is on the southern part of Bali. I was there to catch a boat to Nusa Lembongan. There were fewer tourists in Sanur, but it was more "up-scale" with big resorts there. I was able to get some food at the local night market; no tourists there! I had some "es campur" which is shaved ice with mixed toppings of syrup and candied and jellied stuff (I really don't know what was in it). There were bees and flies buzzing around, and the hygiene wasn't what we would consider acceptable in the States, but then again, if you've worked in the food industry back home, you know there's a reason why you can't see the kitchen in most restaurants. Anyways, it was refreshing to have something cold in the sweltering heat of the tropics. I had some nasi goreng (a big plateful of fried rice) cooked right in front of me on a huge wok. It was fantastic. I was dripping even more sweat from the raw chili peppers I was eating with the rice. The total cost: 75 cents. It sure beats the prices at the tourist places (5-8 times the local price), which is still cheap, but a rip off considering what they should be paying.
The next morning I took a public ferry to Nusa Lembongan, one of three islands just off the southeastern coast of Bali The boat was long and had two outriggers for support (thank goodness!) and three outboard engines. We putted along for about two hours to get to the islands which were about 14 miles away. I paid the set tourist price of 33k Rupiah (the locals pay 10k).
Nusa Lembongan is a quiet place to get away from the tourist hordes. I spent a relaxing three nights there in a room facing the water, which was about forty feet away (spectacular sunsets). I went on two dives for $45 with lunch included (it was just me and the divemaster). It was only my 12th dive or so, but it was definitely the best diving I've had yet. The diving was spectacular: warm water, fantastic visibility, undamaged coral, and lots of fish. We saw a couple sharks, sting rays, lobster, moray eels, and even grouper. It was really nice; much better than the places I had been to in Australia, probably because there were so few people that went diving in Nusa Lembongan. I also exceeded my nitrogen balance according to the dive tables by 15-minutes on my second dive (as well as my allowed depth with my open water certification), so no more dives after that! I also read a 700-page book while I was on the island; it was good to relax to the sound of the surf, and I got to know some of the Balinese a bit better (there weren't any tourists to talk to).
Indonesia is the fourth most populated nation in the world right after China, India, and America at 231 million (compared to 260 Americans). Indonesia is the largest archipegalo in the world with 17,000 islands. Provided you can get room and board included in your job, if you make 10k Rupiah a day, you're doing okay in Indonesia. That amounts to $1.10 a day. It costs 100k Rp a month to attend university, and that doesn't include books. Primary school through high school is "free", but it costs about 25k/month to pay for the uniforms and books. For a family of four kids, sometimes it's too expensive to continue going to school. I am not sure how a "third world country" (a bad term, I know) can progress to a first world nation, but I imagine it's hard when you can't afford school or even to save money. Where is the hope you have as a parent to make your children's lives better? I don't know, but I'm sure it's there. The Balinese I saw were extremely hard-working. Most of the people living on Nusa Lembongan were seaweed farmers. They grew seaweed and sold it so that it could be made into cosmetics and as a food thickener (and many other things...even your ice cream). They got up early and late with the low tides to tend to their plots, grids of string or netting pegged into the sand on which seaweed would grow (it takes about a month to grow), and used equipment that they fashioned out of junk. Almost nothing is prefabricated. These people had straw huts. I swear, I only thought it was a thing of Polynesian cultures in the movies, but they actually had huts and shacks made out of woven coconut palm fronds that they worked out of (and some of they used them as their homes). It is wierd to be travelling and seeing such "poverty", but it's all relative, I guess. Tourist guilt? Maybe.
From Nusa Lembongan, I took a tiny boat to Kusamba, a small village 5 km from Padangbai, the main port on the east coast. The boat was an 18-foot long canoe (about a meter across) with two outriggers and a makeshift mast with a sail. I have to admit I was sort of horrified as we piled more and more people on board (19 people in all). We had to make it through the breaking waves on the offshore reef! Well, the ride was cramped, hot, and long, but we made it to shore safe and sound. It's all part of the fun travelling in a third world country. You take tiny boats that could capsize; you ride in seemingly perilous traffic without seatbelts, or a helmet; you ride rusty ferries that, I'm sure, don't have enough lifejackets or room on lifeboats; but you know, it actually works, the majority of the time. What seems to be chaos and life-endangering, is a system that works; it's just because western eyes aren't adjusted to their norm. You can sit with knuckles gripped white, or just relax and try to enjoy the view as the world passes by. The age for riding a motorcycle? There is none. On Nusa Lembongan, there were 11 year kids riding kick-start bikes all over the place.
I took a bemo to Padangbai and avoided the touts and bought my ferry ticket for Lombok, a 4.5 hour ride awway. I sat and had some mystery meatball and noodle soup from a street cart for 33 cents to pass the time before the ferry left. The ferry was a filthy rust bucket. It was fun watching them manoeuvre the trucks and buses on board. While Bali was predominately Hindu, Lombok (and most of Indonesia) is Muslim. They had a room with prayer carpets for those who felt the need. There were seats inside, and even an open area where people just laid down. People can lie down and sleep anywhere. I still have a lot of squeamishness to get over before I will lay down like that, but I've got some time left. I sat outside watching people throw their cigarettes, empties bottles, and wrappers overboard. What the hell?! Oh well, I guess every culture does that. To be honest, rubbish bins are pretty uncommon, and I think all they do is pile the rubbish in an empty lot and burn it anyways. Yum. We went through a rain shower, and the locals started button up and putting on jackets. I swear I saw a guy wearing a thick down jacket. The temperature went from 90 F to 75 F so when you're not used to that, it can feel cold. I'm sweating most of the time wearing swimming trunks and a loose button shirt (yeah, the one in all my pictures), but the locals wear black slacks and long sleeve shirts and coats and knit caps sometimes. It goes to show you how the body can acclimate to any environment.
I am writing from Mataram, on the west side of Lombok, the island just east of Bali. I have decided to head east to Flores, four islands east of Lombok (past Sumbawa, Komodo, and Rinca the last two famous for seeing the Komodo dragons). It's going to be a long trip, and I booked a ticket the whole way there, so I wouldn't have to deal with about ten different bus changes and odd hours. I will get there tomorrow night. I don't know if there will be internet there, but I should be back next week.