This is part of the eleventh section of our around the world trip.
Complete Trip Overview & Map

Coming from  East Timor or read our previous visit to Indonesia
 

21/9/04 On the Indonesian side customs were not interested in the carnet, claimed it unnecessary, no searches but a wait till immigration opened at 9.00 am Indonesian time, one hour behind East Timor time. So we passed through without any special paperwork for the motorcycle, just the "sticker" registration paper was asked to be sighted. Immediately the economic situation was improved. Roadworks, houses being painted, industry moving. More traffic, and no wonder with petrol at US$0.20 cents a litre, and motorcycle taxies everywhere. An enormous drop in prices had occurred across the border, large bottled water US$0.30 cents, substantial lunch US$0.75 cents each, tonight's accommodation, basic US$3.30 a double. The road wound through the hills, twisting, turning through villages of bamboo walls and thatch or iron roofs.. Some having large gazebo's in the front yard, thatched roofed, a relax, meeting place to spend siesta or the evening. Soe for the night.

22/9/04 All rubbish is burnt ready for the wet. The air is heavy with smoke before the rains. Phlegm and sore throats, coughing, but still the burning continues. Kupang was our first Asian experience, 12 years ago with our three children we crossed to Bali overland with connecting boats. There were almost no tourists then, as now, following the Bali bombing they have fled this region. A few ex-pat Australians have retired here, usually a depressing bunch, outcasting themselves from their home country, complaining of their's and the world's ills whilst sitting at the bar slowly waiting to die. Kupang is the region's capital, bustling, busy and noisy, a seaport connecting islands of the archipelago.

23/9/04 We were informed yesterday that there was a ferry to Larantuka on the island of Flores leaving at 4 pm today. We had driven to the wharf 13 km west of town yesterday just to make sure. Arriving at 2 pm today to buy the ticket we were told it had been delayed, now arriving at 5 pm. It finally arrived at 6-30, when we, along with 300 people, four small trucks, twenty motorcycles, ten horses and half a dozen cows, and tons of baggage boarded, we left at 8 pm, four hours late, not bad for "rubber time" (elastic stretch). We were offered a 40 mm thick vinyl covered foam mattress to sleep on, amidst forty others the same, on a raised platform, behind 200 plastic chairs on the main deck, with TV blaring and cigarette smoke thick. We chose, along with about 1/3 rd of the passengers to sleep on the vehicle deck, between trucks and horses. We had purchased two woven mats earlier and in quieter, fresher air, bunked down on the steel deck.

24/9/04 Despite it's steel hardness we slept reasonably well waking early to the drone of the boat's engines and the queue to the toilet, also a shower room, everyone freshening up before departing at 8.30 am. The last few hours the ferry meandered, weaving through small islands, volcanoes mostly, their conical peaks in the clouds, their slopes slightly hidden in the smoky haze. The oceans the total absorber of rubbish from disposable nappies, plastic bottles, plastic bags and food containers, thrown overboard to join a wider array of garbage washed from villages and towns in every rain storm. There are no organized garbage disposal or collection facilities. The best we have seen is a concrete pit or bin set alight when full. We booked into a losmen, cheap family run hotel, recovered from the boat crossing and walked the town of Larantuka. It's back streets devoid of urban planning or building codes where another storey or room is just attached when needed, where roads don't rise as high up the hillside as houses and water is drawn from a leak in the mains water pipe. Sewage treatment is non existent, disappearing somewhere underground and a lot of water is drawn from ground wells for washing.

25/9/04 Indonesia's population is 90% Muslim however on the islands of Timor and Flores the majority are Catholic Christians. In some areas there seems to be a race on to build new, bigger and better Mosques or Churches, almost a competition. Outwardly, apart from a few women wearing head-dresses, it is difficult to distinguish the difference. The obvious sign in a village is the presence of pigs. Muslims consider them dirty and will not keep nor eat them. The island of Flores is volcanic, grasses for thatch don't grow as much so palm leaves and bamboo are preferred traditional house building materials. Small bricks are also made from the soils, fired in backyard kilns. The higher fertility and rainfall produce some exotic foods like, jackfruit, sapote, jambu, loquat and passion fruits. Cashews and coffee are grown in the mountains. Just 110 km towards Maumere, bamboo huts on the beach front. $US 4.00 a double including breakfast allured us to relax for another day. With meals averaging another dollar each it will be difficult to leave.

26/9/04 The road meandered, twisting and turning around volcanic peaks and valleys. The light traffic moves at about 40 km/hr, motorcycles a little faster, buses and trucks slower. We have long learnt that to go too much faster than local traffic surprises people, animals and other vehicles and becomes dangerous. Our loud exhaust gives ample warning of our arrival most times, helping to clear the road ahead. Fuel is available in litre bottles everywhere, a little more expensive than at the few petrol stations which often have queues. We stopped at a couple of traditional villages, were welcomed and could exchange a long look at the motorcycle for an equally long look of the village. The cost and effort of maintaining high labour houses and high labour clothing taking its toll. Younger people even in more traditional areas are wearing western clothes. The heavy sarong like, ikat weaving, popular with tourists and still worn and hand woven by women the most obvious traditional dress. However it is now rarely hand spun or naturally died. Traditional villages charge tourists an entrance fee to help offset the cost of maintenance and run the risk of losing tradition to tourism. Passed through Maumere where less than two weeks ago a volcano erupted showering the area in ash, nothing to be seen today. Moved onto Moni, a rice growing village, brought to tourist prominence by the three coloured lakes in it's nearby volcanic craters of Kelimutu Mountain.

27/9/04 Tourists used to flock here but two years ago the Bali bombings frightened most away and the subsequent further two bomb blasts in Jakarta haven't helped them return. We rose before sunrise and rode to the parking area, walking at dawn to the coloured lakes just as the sun was breaking through the thick smoke horizon. The other ten tourists in town were also here, sunrise the best time to see the magnificent black, turquoise and clear volcanic lakes. Monday is market day in Moni, ladies bring whatever they have grown or made to sell. An array of vegetable and Ikat weaving. Firewood is also brought down from the slash and burn agriculture carried out in the surrounding mountains. At $US 0.50 cents a large bundle it has to be cut, dried, stacked, carted, sold and delivered to the purchaser's house, a hard lifestyle. We rode to Ende, just 50 km. A ferry sank in the harbour here just yesterday. While loading, trucks shifted tilting the ferry, taking on water it capsized in the harbour killing one person. We were here to check out ferries from Java to Pontianak in Borneo, the route we want to follow in a couple of weeks. The shipping agent Prima Vista runs these ferries, catering for vehicles and passengers, they were incredibly helpful, especially in providing information this far away, however the October schedule doesn't come out until October making forward planning difficult.

28/9/04 The smoke in the air finally getting to my throat, coughing, red raw and sore. Headed into the mountains, Bajawa. First alongside the ocean where people collected beach stones, pale blue and rounded by the waves. Bagged up along the road waiting for trucks and sale where people have money for gardens. Bajawa at 1500 metres is cool. After 10 nights of one night stands we relaxed in the afternoon deciding to spend two nights here. Each indigenous society seems to produce its own recreational drug. In this part of Indonesia it is beetlenut, collected from a palm tree, mixed with lime and wrapped in a green leaf and chewed, and chewed, until the red juice stains the teeth and saliva it produces a mild narcotic effect. Prolonged use rots the teeth giving a reddish black gaping smile. In this region it is predominantly used by the women.

29/9/04 Bamboo, in the mountains, is the most versatile building material. A whole house can be constructed using only bamboo. Large sticks for posts, bearers and roofing. Split and flattened for walls and floors. Split in halves for a waterproof roof, under and over like terracotta tiles. Small sticks cut into strips and woven for mats and ceiling and wall decorations. Doors and window shutters also flattened bamboo, framed by the whole sticks. Furniture, chairs and tables made in the same fashion as well as beds. Even the water can be reticulated to the house using split bamboo as an open pipe. We headed south to the touristed traditional village of Bena, one of a few in the region, 20 km along a rough road, The small entry fee going towards bringing water to the village. Ikat weaving for sale in tourist demanded colours and patterns. A generator house, partially disguised and concrete bathrooms new additions to the tradition. The houses externally and the village courtyard still kept in a semblance of the past. As tourists bring money the village becomes wealthy and rightly wants the trappings that come with wealth. Understanding the need to continue sufficient traditions that the tourists pay to see the village provides this. An interesting adaptation of "traditional" use of tourists.

30/9/04 The road through Ruteng to Labuanbajo continues its winding mountain path. Although potholed Indonesia is spending money on roadworks here. Sections are repaired, hotmix laid, road drainage built and culverts and bridges widened. Most is laboriously done by hand. Suitably sized rocks quarried, placed one by one in a hand picked and squared pothole. Tar from a drum heated over locally cut firewood and poured over the rocks to make a patch. Even though the road is being upgraded there is no machinery to excavate to straighten corners, which is perhaps good as the vehicles go as fast here as the roads permit. We stopped part way along the road to photograph  the speedometer turning over for the fourth time, 400,000 km's.

1/10/04 Labuanbajo is about as far east as most people get, incorporating Bali to Komodo in their holiday. This is the first place that tourism is as busy as on our visit here 12 years ago. The boat trips are more varied, the boats better and the accommodation more upmarket than before. We had planned to do a one day trip to Rinca Island, with more easily sighted komodo dragons than the island of Komodo. During the negotiations another group of tourists advised us of the possibility to snorkel with manta rays, an opportunity not to be missed. With negotiations and trying to share the costs of the trip with other tourists it took all day till the final arrangements. A French couple we had met a few days ago decided to change their plans, cancelling their previous boat, they negotiated for the four of us, a two day, one night trip, food included $US 33.00 each person, leaving tomorrow at 6 am.

2/10/04 Surprisingly the boat left on time. An 18 metre, 1 yr old, locally built (it took the captain a year to build) local design, a slightly modified fishing boat. The flat front deck for relaxing and sleeping, a wheel house, toilet and cook area at the stern. Built from timber from Borneo and powered by a Japanese diesel with no gearbox. If the engine runs, the propellor runs, no reverse, no neutral. The two hour trip to Rinca passes between many islands in flat water, some inhabited, others not, sandy beaches and strong currents. On arrival there was one komodo dragon to greet us as we left the jetty and a further eight living around the ranger's houses. These are fed scraps ensuring the tourists get to see some komodo on their visit. The dragons grow up to three metres in length and their strong mouth bacteria will eventually kill any animal they get a chance to bite. Water buffalo, deer, monkey and pigs the main wild game on Rinca where about 1000 dragons live naturally. We spotted only one on our two hour walk, a mother guarding her nest of eggs, but also saw many monkeys and deer. The boat, another two hours slow motoring, took us to Komodo Island and Red Beach for snorkelling in a protected area of corals. Both fish and coral varieties were excellent. The evening near a flying fox (bat) daytime rest area where we snorkelled ashore into the mangroves for a closer look at the browner cousins of the Australian fruit bats. Two fish meals for the day and after watching the stars over bintang beer and arak (palm wine) and sprite we slept on a 25 mm mattress on the deck.

3/10/04 The captain was up at 4 am making breakfast and by 5 am we were underway, another two hours to the south of Komodo Island. The outgoing tide causing current waves and whirlpools between islands. Manta Alley is a quiet section of water sheltered by a couple of small islands offshore. It's reported the manta rays are here all year feeding on plankton congregated by the currents. The boat is not allowed to anchor and just drifted as we snorkelled. We could see the black and white tips of the manta's fins from the boat but almost as soon as we entered the water the immense size, initially frightening, struck us. Up to three metres across with the plankton gathering mouth a metre across. Three or four manta would be seen at once, slowly moving towards us then when less than two metres away they would alter course displaying their white underbellies. The water was cold, especially for the tropics, perhaps 22 degrees. We watched for ages as individuals or small groups seemingly flew past in slow motion flapping enormous wings. Cold, I decided to follow a group of three, and for over 200 metres was the fourth in the procession. As they rose close towards the surface I had to drop back from the third one as it became so close I could have accidentally touched it. Eventually I had to let them go as they continued feeding and I returned to the boat exhausted but warm with adrenaline. One of the most amazing experiences of our travels. We anchored nearby and snorkelled to Komodo Island where deer and pig were sighted. Greg the French tourist also saw a Komodo whilst walking alone. We returned to the manta spot only to find they had gone with the plankton at the change of tide. Two were sighted on the other side of the island but despite our enthusiastic search while snorkelling they disappeared into the depths. A four hour boat trip back to Labuanbajo and exhausted we cleaned up and washed for our departure tomorrow.

4/10/04 The daily 8 am ferry to Sape left at 9 am. It's the first time we have been asked to buy two tickets for the motorcycle, it being so large compared with the small local bikes. The seven hour trip around the top of Komodo island passed quickly. The crew could not be seen, asleep in cabins above. They were there to collect the tickets and bribes from those who had no tickets, quite a percentage. The downstairs toilets were unpleasant. One full of luggage, one without a door and the other two without water. I was annoyed enough to approach the captain on the bridge who only suggested I could use the more opulent crew toilets. This was not the point, the paying passengers needed water to flush toilets and the many Muslims to wash themselves. Water was turned on but the passengers then used it for a shower and within an hour there was again no water. The Mushollah, a room set aside for prayer, was used as an area for sleeping. The 1st class chairs, upholstered, were torn and broken, the essential TV worked. It is appalling how the crew in their bright uniforms live in relative luxury ripping off the company while the paying passengers have to put up with a lack of maintenance due to insufficient money. We stayed in a small port town on the boat's arrival, just outside of Sape where the houses are tainted with Dutch design and fish dry in the streets on woven mats. Horse drawn wagons are still the main people and goods carriers here.

5/10/04 310 km to Sumbawa Besar, the capital of Sumbawa the island. The road straighter, enough for top gear once or twice, but still a six hour trip. Macaque monkeys were often roadside, eating food dropped by passing motorists. Animals were again allowed to wander freely, goats, chickens, and buffalo grazed the roadside. Agricultural areas fenced off unlike in Flores where the animals were tethered not free roaming. We passed fish farming and salt drying ponds in the lowlands, rice fields where land was flat and wet enough and slash and burn in the hills. Wood slab and tiled roofed houses the majority lining the road. The red and white Indonesian flag proudly flying everywhere, even most school uniforms the same colours. A predominantly Muslim island the head scarf worn by most women. Internet and food from street warungs in the evening.

6/10/04 Bicycle rickshaws have started to appear. The three wheeled event, passengers sitting out front, the rider pedalling from behind. Used mainly to and from the markets they can carry more than a motorcycle and are cheaper than a horse cart. We hired one for an hour, toured to the Sultan's Palace, an old wooden building, restored more than new but still a bit dilapidated. In the afternoon the street we were walking became almost empty of traffic. The police were out, perhaps 20 of them, at one intersection checking registration and licences. Most motorcyclists simply U turn on seeing them, cars pulled over, and people were warning others. We assumed most people don't have the proper papers for their vehicles or don't have a drivers license. Over dinner we knew when the police had gone, the traffic noise rose to normal levels.

7/10/04 A two hour ride and another ferry, to the island of Lombok. This time the ferry corruption scam was to issue us with a ticket stub, not the full ticket. On insistence a new ticket book was found and the correct ticket issued. A ride on ride off ferry the lower deck was sealed for water tightness, however the engine room doors were open and with vehicles parked so close they could not be swung shut if needed in an emergency, meaning the ferry would sink. Lombok is greener and more industrious. The subsistence farming gone and agriculture more organized. Crops more varied and markets bigger being closer to Bali and Java. We ended up at Sengiggi Beach, the Bali equivalent of Kuta Beach, a constructed western holiday place with low key resort hotels. However the lack of tourists leaves the place feeling lonely and a bit tacky and shabby. The few touts almost outnumber tourists and are pushy to sell. Unless you come in a group you would be the only one in the restaurant or bar.

8/10/04 The motorcycle was flown to Bali in 1996 and returned today by ferry from Lombok. Another ferry crossing, five hours, one hour waiting offshore until the wharf was empty. Ride on ride off, again we had to pay for two motorcycles, ours so much bigger than the local's. Perhaps the biggest change I have seen in Indonesia is the number of motorcycles on the road. We saw two minor accidents yesterday, both involving motorcycles. Two locals we talked to said in separate incidents that they had each killed a motorcyclist, one as a pillion the other hit with his car. No helmets and most unlicensed. In each case a payment of $US 1500 had to be paid to the victim's family and a further $US 500 bribe to the police to clear the matter from going to court. We stayed in the port, beach side town of Padangbai. A pleasant mix of local fishermen and tourists. The weekly boat from Surabaya, Java to Pontianak (Borneo) leaves Tuesday and we decided to hurry through this area as we have been here twice before and catch the next boat in four day's time.

9/10/04 Riding through Denpasar and a police siren from behind, the first we have heard, forced us off the road along with all other traffic. It was a Harley-Davidson police bike leading the Bali Harley-Davidson club on a ride. 15 or more bikes zapping through busy traffic with the police escort. We quickly joined in the back taking full advantage of the cleared road and faster riding. After about 10 km they stopped for fuel and we had a short opportunity to talk. Unfortunately they were deviating from our direction and in a further 5 km we waved goodbye. All of their club rides have police escorts to allow quick passage, running red lights and keeping the group together. A use of the police unthinkable in the west. At Tabanan the Hindu festival at the local temple, supposedly held only every 30 years was in it's last day of the month long celebration. The temple itself dressed up, the people in their finest and most colourful robes making offerings to their god Vishnu. Gamelan music was being played by an orchestra of 50 people. We watched and listened to the music over lunch at a nearby warung (restaurant). Further west to Gilimanuk and a ferry to Java, 30 minutes, taking an hour, as there are more boats than wharf space and again we waited offshore for a berth. The easternmost end of Java is heavily forested in planted teak trees, and in light traffic we travelled 80 km to Situbondo.

10/10/04 Just four months ago, unexpectedly, the steaming crater of Mt Bromo exploded. Two people on it's rim were killed by flying debris, others injured but many more escaped unhurt. The ash stripped leaves and vegetation on its slopes, built up in blown sand dunes and is whipped up by the strong winds even now getting into everything. We took the motorcycle into the main caldera, 20 km in diameter, where three smaller volcanic cones rise, including the one that recently erupted. Looking in from the rim of the active cone we can see how much more enlarged and deeper it is than on our past visits here. Now steaming quietly tourists have returned, till the next explosion.

11/10/04 Leaving the cool mountain air for Surabaya, four hours ride, the last 80 km taking three hours in jam packed traffic as motorcycles are not allowed to use toll ways. The air thick with truck diesel fumes and burnt oil of the two stroke motorcycles. Our bike ran hot, the oil pressure light flickering on at idle, the starter motor crunchy with the engine so hot and poor quality fuel. Luckily two men we asked directions from led us on their motorcycle to our chosen hotel, the one way streets prolonging the trip. Two and a half million people live here, the second largest city in Indonesia, but the surrounding cities seem to have merged into one tight packed sprawling city. We opted for a taxi to the Prima Vista boat company office (Surabaya Ph 031 3294444 or Semarang 024 3581137 once weekly to each destination from Pontianak) near the wharf to collect our tickets to Pontianak in Borneo. Charged $US 43.00 each for the ensuite cabin and $US 80.00 for the motorcycle, (again twice the price of a local bike, but a third the price of a car). Later in the afternoon we walked the streets near our hotel, food stalls line the pavement, constant traffic and noise. The old thought of the sheer number of people the world is trying to cater for always there. The increasing population and increasing demand on resources to us the greatest problem on earth.

12/10/04 The canals/creeks flowing to the ocean through town are now a soapy grey from washing water entering directly untreated from households and street stalls. Amazingly they are still swarming with fish living on small particles of human food. With no one prepared to eat the fish they are adapted to the polluted waters. Plants grow profusely along the banks fed by the rotting waste. When the rains come in a month or two the open street drains will clog with rubbish built up during the dry. Slowly they will be cleared washing the plastic and decaying vegetable matter out to sea. There are few havens here for locals. We pull back to our hotel when we are overdosed on the teeming mass. Many have nowhere to go, sleeping in their pedal rickshaws or on cardboard in the streets, protecting their stalls. Children have few places to play, often locked in a small house with no yard or garden, fronting busy streets. We stayed in our hotel till 1 pm check out and moved to the boat, KM Marisa Nusantara, boarding at 3 pm. Our luxury cabin, one of only two on the boat, has three rooms, bedroom, ensuite and lounge dining area. Meals are brought to the cabin. Many other non ensuite cabins exist but the vast majority, over 500 passengers, paying almost half what we pay, simply get floor space on a raised platform, no chairs, they can rent a foam mattress. Many choose to sleep outside or near stair foyers, all crammed in tightly.

13/10/04 A 40 hour, two night trip, this is the first time we have chosen to take such comfort on a boat, indeed the first time this level of comfort has existed to be taken. Leaving our personal space occasionally to see how the other passengers were managing, most were resting, avoiding seasickness despite a smooth voyage, preying in the Mushollah or eating snacks in the restaurant. The floor area staked out last night guarded for today and tonight. Ramadan, the holy fasting month begins tomorrow. Many people are returning home to their villages to spend time with family for the fasting and celebrations that follow.

14/10/04 The boat was travelling north but early morning swung east and up the Kapuas River for the next few hours. Passing through brown water the banks were lush green as we approach the equator and the wet season. Boats and stilt houses dotted the rivers edge, lumber yards milled timber. Pontianak is a pass through town, a connecting road to Malaysia from Indonesia. The people are traditionally made up of Dayak and Malays but more recently Javans have emigrated to the more slightly populated area. The lifestyle here is wealthier, and more expensive. The Malay influence brings more Chinese style food. The city is spread out, land is available here. There are relatively few microlets (minibuses), most people own a motorcycle or motorcar. We visited the tourist office, almost useless and the Museum of West Kalimantan, very interesting and a good guide.

15/10/04 Morning maintenance on the bike, cut the windscreen down about 3 cm as it has become opaque, difficult to see through, hard to see potholes. Checked the engine to primary oil seal, recently replaced, still leaking oil from the primary to engine. Old Pontianak, at the confluence of the two rivers, is stilt houses connected by wooden boardwalks and narrow canals. Small boats ferry people from the main city. We wandered the rickety boardwalks, slowly rotting away, as are the wooden stilt houses, remainders of a past era. People still live here, washing and bathing in the brown river water. The Sultan's palace and Royal Mosque from the 18th century attract visitors and worshipers.

16/10/04 The one road out of town follows the coast north through low lying swampy canal land. Wooden houses on stilts or land fill edge the road, rice fields between. Indonesia is so vast they were harvesting rice in the east and are just planting it now to the north of the equator. The good road headed inland, unlogged mountains surrounded some slash and burn dryland and every flatland creek was channelled to rice fields. We were going to take two days to the border but with light traffic we moved quickly. Small rubber and enormous palm oil tree plantations lined the roadside as the population started to thin. The whole region has a frontier feel. Enormous new houses are situated next to bamboo huts. One perhaps had the timber contract, one planted rice between tree stumps by hand, no buffalo or machinery to till the soil. Immigration stamped us out  at the border and customs didn't need to see us. As we hadn't had the carnet signed on entry to Indonesia we didn't need to see them, and just drove through.
 

Move with us to Malaysia
 

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