Breakfast was very poor with cold scrambled eggs, white toast and a kind of puried fruit, tea or coffee with no milk. Fruit jiuce was extra like the air con and when it came it was watered down cordial.
After breakfast set off to visited an indoor market, the Sultan's Palace and silver factory in the morning. The market was quite interesting for its shear size. On one occasion Anne got left behind with Mas and for a few moments I was worried for them. What was good was the comradeship of the store holders, porters, etc market workers very much like the markets in Sheffield when I was young. Every isle had a character keeping the place human with their wise cracks.
The Royal Palace was not to my liking and mainly about wealth, privilege and status. The silver factory was quite amazing and dangerous. All the goods were designed and made by the locals and sold at knocked down prices which Anne and John could resist. John more so than Anne, eventually walking away with a considerable bill for jewelry.
We were heading back to the hotel for lunch (not in the hotel) before heading to see a temple. Only a handful of us set off to see the temple. When we arrived we found out that it was Borobodou one of the must see tourist sites on Java. It is a 9th Century Budhist Temple.
From a distance it reminded me of an Inca temple like a very large stone cake three tier high. The walls on each level consisted of stone statues and carvings depicting various aspects of Budha. Our guide was brilliant, being very knowledgable and funny. His name was Budha and he was hoping for enlightenment at some future point. in the after and fish restaurant at night. the site had been seriously damaged by an earthquake and access was limited but sufficient to stand in awe at the massive ediface stood in the middle of a field. The builders had covered it in earth to stop Muslim invaders taking it and it was only discovered 300 years ago. The task of covering it with soil to hide it was remarkable enough but possible understandable.
When we arrived back at the hotel and those who stayed behind found out the temple was Borobodou another argument broke out. The guide didn't think it was important enough to tell us its nameand leighton was not aware. Things improved later when Leighton sourced our evening meal at famous restaurant serving traditional Indonesian food. The food of fish and meats was served on Palm leaves and all agreed it was excellent. This place also had a good live trio playing mainly Beatles and Bob Marley classics. They seemed generally surprised to have customers singing along with them and they thanked us before we left.
Friday 1 February 2008
64 Day: Sunday 25th: Bukkitingi - Pedang Airport - Yogyakarta
The dreaded day had arrived, time to get on yet another plane. As we set out Leighton informed us that we were not driving from Jakarta as previously told but doing two flights. The first as previously stated a one and a half hour flight to the capital but now followed by another one and half hours later to Yogatarka. Although the second flight was only an hour I was not well pleased. This is now making a mockery of the idea of an overland trip to OZ. If all goes to plan we will have caught four planes. Mac announced in the café yesterday before our guided tour that he was taking public transport and not flying. The journey time is 29 hours down to the ferry to Java. I would have gone with him but for the logistics of our luggage. He's the only one staying true to the original ideal. We calculated in the café that only six of us have stayed with the coach all the way. The list consists of Fe, Viv, Claire, Zoe, Anne and myself. All the rest have left to do other things. At the moment we are 18 and it will be interesting to see who turns up in Bali for the last flight.
The drive to the airport was interesting with beautiful views of a valley and its' river, a 75 metre high waterfall and a single rail line which looked disused but added romance to the scene. After a few miles Kate announced she'd left her passport back at the hotel. After a phone call the hotel agreed to send it to the airport by car.
Pedang Airport looked very pleasant from the outside with low buildings roughly based on traditional wooden structures. The inside was just a large hall to hold people with very few shops, bars etc and no sign of alcohol. From my point of view it was just another nervous environment to sit around waiting in. It became very clear that the plane was late and this could well jepordise catching our connection. A thirty minute delay became an hour. There was no sign of any planes carrying the Adamair logo. Eventually an orange 737, looking for all the world like Easyjet, landed and quickly taxied into place and shed its' passengers. Within minutes we were boarding and taking off. The 90 minute flight was okay but would have been better if they'd handed out cold alcoholic drinks instead of cartons of warm water. Very lucky Anne had found me cold cans of beer in the airport. The connecting flight took off over 90 minutes late and did provide Anne with beautiful sunset on her side of the plane. I sat quietly watching a cloud storm in the distance and found the landing at Yogyakarta smoother than at Jakarta.
The journey from the airport to the hotel scheduled for an hour took about 15 minutes. The hotel was yet again a basic affair with a money grabbing owner. Our room had an air con blower which only worked once we'd paid the manager 50,000 rm a day. When I pointed out we had no hot water and would he reduce the price accordingly he said no. I replied he could bollocks for the money. The breakfasts were very poor consisting of half toasted sweat bread, a strange tasting butter which I compared to Kerrygold and almost started a war between the Irish and myself. There was no fruit juice to drink just green tea or cups of sludgy coffee. The only thing that saved this place was the swimming pool which was clean and the area around it. Had it not been for this I think there would have been a mass walkout.
The area surrounding the hotel was a backpackers' haven with lots of cheap bars, cafes, restaurants, internet cafes etc, etc. The little restaurant/ bar next door was buzzing by the time we'd checked in and walked the twenty five yards from our room to its front door. A group of teenagers playing guitar, fiddle, bass, percussion and mandelin had many of the bus singing along with old time favourites: Beatles, Stones, Bob Marley and Everly Bros numbers etc. The food was very good to. The band played for an hour or so and then left to carry on a few doors down at the Ragae Bar.
The regae bar was a dissapointment, the lads were now amplified but still good but the beer was dearer and and there was nothing else alcoholic to satisfy Anne and John.
The drive to the airport was interesting with beautiful views of a valley and its' river, a 75 metre high waterfall and a single rail line which looked disused but added romance to the scene. After a few miles Kate announced she'd left her passport back at the hotel. After a phone call the hotel agreed to send it to the airport by car.
Pedang Airport looked very pleasant from the outside with low buildings roughly based on traditional wooden structures. The inside was just a large hall to hold people with very few shops, bars etc and no sign of alcohol. From my point of view it was just another nervous environment to sit around waiting in. It became very clear that the plane was late and this could well jepordise catching our connection. A thirty minute delay became an hour. There was no sign of any planes carrying the Adamair logo. Eventually an orange 737, looking for all the world like Easyjet, landed and quickly taxied into place and shed its' passengers. Within minutes we were boarding and taking off. The 90 minute flight was okay but would have been better if they'd handed out cold alcoholic drinks instead of cartons of warm water. Very lucky Anne had found me cold cans of beer in the airport. The connecting flight took off over 90 minutes late and did provide Anne with beautiful sunset on her side of the plane. I sat quietly watching a cloud storm in the distance and found the landing at Yogyakarta smoother than at Jakarta.
The journey from the airport to the hotel scheduled for an hour took about 15 minutes. The hotel was yet again a basic affair with a money grabbing owner. Our room had an air con blower which only worked once we'd paid the manager 50,000 rm a day. When I pointed out we had no hot water and would he reduce the price accordingly he said no. I replied he could bollocks for the money. The breakfasts were very poor consisting of half toasted sweat bread, a strange tasting butter which I compared to Kerrygold and almost started a war between the Irish and myself. There was no fruit juice to drink just green tea or cups of sludgy coffee. The only thing that saved this place was the swimming pool which was clean and the area around it. Had it not been for this I think there would have been a mass walkout.
The area surrounding the hotel was a backpackers' haven with lots of cheap bars, cafes, restaurants, internet cafes etc, etc. The little restaurant/ bar next door was buzzing by the time we'd checked in and walked the twenty five yards from our room to its front door. A group of teenagers playing guitar, fiddle, bass, percussion and mandelin had many of the bus singing along with old time favourites: Beatles, Stones, Bob Marley and Everly Bros numbers etc. The food was very good to. The band played for an hour or so and then left to carry on a few doors down at the Ragae Bar.
The regae bar was a dissapointment, the lads were now amplified but still good but the beer was dearer and and there was nothing else alcoholic to satisfy Anne and John.
63 Day: Saturday 24th: Bukittinggi, Hotel Mitre Arena Gemini
Didn't get out of bed until 10.00am, had a leisurely mandi and breakfast and set off to meet Awanga our new friend and guide for the day. He approached us well before we reached the café and even though I told him we were coming he didn't seem to trust us. I explained I was trying to find a sim for my phone and he organised it immediately. Down at the Turret Anne and Ted were having drinks when we joined them. By the time we all jumped into his minibus we now numbered six. This included Noreen, Ted, John, Mac, Anne and myself of course.
The tour to see the flower started with a drive through beautiful countryside and well kept little hamlets with tidy gardens and immaculately manicured paddy fields. Awang had told us he was not allowed to take us to see the flower and must hand us over to a local guide. The walk with our new guide to the flower started easy enough down into a series of paddy fields which in itself was a revelation and an education. What looks so natural from above consists of carefully manmade and maintained mounds and water courses. As we made our way carefully walking on the top of the mounds we passed smiling workers, ankle deep maintaining the structures. One old man who was very willing to have his photo taken as he used a rotavator to turn the soil whilst others were attending to the mounds gave us a large smile and welcoming wave. Peacefully grazing by the side of the field was a very large oxen who looked as though he could do some serious damage with his large horns.
As we made our way to the top of the fields we dropped into the stream which was the life source of the system. Things now began to get a little more demanding as we negotiated swamps, fallen trees and bushes and leaches. As I was stood with the new guide (forgot his name) he folded his leg behind him, pointed to a very small black strip and said 'Leach'. He then pulled it off, grabbed a large leaf, placed the mite on it, took out his lighter and began to burn both until it was dead. I was surprised he'd killed it but I understood him to say that it takes his blood and he takes its' life. A kind of fair swap. We had now been walking steadily upwards for half an hour and the humidity (70%) was causing me some distress. Things gradually got better as the stream now entered a very narrow gorge, one person wide, with the walls rising 10 to 15 feet above us. At least it gave some shade and the air was cool but damp. This did not last long and once again we were crossing the stream from side to side and rising steeply. The last few hundred yards took us up the side of the valley with only the exposed tree roots as help.
By the time we got our first glimpse of the flower my clothes were drenched in sweat. I actually physically shook my head and the sweat sprayed off like water off a dog's back after having a swim. I was actually feeling a little sick and dizzy from the heat and humidity and had to take a little time to compose myself. A few minutes early the new guide asked me if I play sports and when I said many years ago he replied you still have stamina which I thought was a strange word for him to use with his very limited vocabulary. Only twenty minutes later and my stamina had left me as I hung on to the tree roots on a 60 degree incline staring at what looked like a very big plastic flower some 60 cm across. We were informed that this is not the biggest they grow, quite often they pass 100 cms. The flower only blooms for seven days and was surrounded by black looking cow pats which we were told were dead rotting ones. The flower is a parasite that lives off the tree roots. It took a good hour, of some difficult walking at times, but it was a magical moment for all six of us and one we will remember. We actually felt as though we'd achieved something. Sitting on a bus for ten weeks is not the best way to train for a jungle trek, all be it, a very small one. I will remember for the rest of my life the heat and sweat and John doing a very good Tarzan impression that really echoed up the narrow gorge and made the guide laugh and Anne shouting ,getting me out of here', etc. If you've got a couple of thousand pounds to spare and time on your hands you to can see the world's largest flower. If not go to Kew Gardens, they've got one to.
Our next call was to the so called Grand Canyon which was little more than a river gorge. Although it was disappointing we didn't care we'd done enough seeing the flower to warrant the 150,000 rm a piece. As we sat looking up the gorge from a drink stall we got our first view of an Indonesian fighting cock caged by the roadside. His proud chest was bare and he looked very much worse for wear. John remarked you should see the other one. I also made another interesting observation, at least to me, when we asked for ice cold drinks at the stall the lad serving said he hadn't a fridge but took our money and went across the road to another stall and came back with them. Not something that would happen in the UK. The same thing happened in Varanasi in India when the photo shop sent out a runner to get me the right card reader for my camera. Strange that in small communities outsourcing should exist.
The last part of our tour led us up the beautiful hillside past more well manicured hamlets and gardens to overlook the lake. The lake looked beautiful and remind me of Crater Lake in Southern Oregon USA: it also being a very large volcano. All that was missing was the snow.
It's strange how things turn out, just twenty four hours earlier I was handing over a deposit to a complete stranger with little expectation of a good outcome and now we have had the pleasure and satisfaction of the flower walk, the scenic drive through the area with our very own private chauffeur who also bought us little treats of the area to try, the stunning views over the lake and most important of all the company of a very interesting guide and new friend. We all agreed we'd just had one of the best days so far of the whole trip.
The days was not over yet by a long way. In our conversation with Anita the night before she'd promised to prepare us a local traditional meal. When we arrived at the Turret the table was beautifully laid out with tablecloth, serviettes and a central revolving china food server. The food came very fast and consisted of a very tasty soup of chicken, noodles, vegetables and prawns; fish steamed and served in palm leaves and then the selection of dishes placed in the revolving serving dishes. To finish we had a kind of mango paste pressed and served once again in palm leaves. There were a selection of chicken, beef and vegetables and fried rice. The total bill for six people including the beers and fruit juices came to 500,000 rm just over £30. Our guide Awang who sat on the next table kindly refused my invitation to eat with us as though it was not the done thing.
After our excellent meal we crossed the road to another bar to celebrate Mary's birthday. As we set off Awang leapt onto his motorbike to find a birthday cake and Anita found a single candle. Things in the other bar was far from jovial. Sue and Mary and a few others who'd ignored our comments about the excellent food and service at the Turret had now sat for over an hour for food. Mary was arguing with a young barman come waiter about her stake meal which had just arrived. 'She asked him what is it?' He said 'stake'. She replied 'show me'. This was repeated with the waiter looking more embarrassed. Eventually Mary grabbed the folk and slid it across the centre of the plate saying 'where's the stake'. Sue and Mary walked out after a round of happy birthday.
We spent the last part of the evening checking our mail and trying to delete the junk mail. All in all an excellent day with a very good tour with a lovely man as a guide, great food cooked by a very charming woman, plenty of cold cheap beer and a bit of fun to finish off with.
The tour to see the flower started with a drive through beautiful countryside and well kept little hamlets with tidy gardens and immaculately manicured paddy fields. Awang had told us he was not allowed to take us to see the flower and must hand us over to a local guide. The walk with our new guide to the flower started easy enough down into a series of paddy fields which in itself was a revelation and an education. What looks so natural from above consists of carefully manmade and maintained mounds and water courses. As we made our way carefully walking on the top of the mounds we passed smiling workers, ankle deep maintaining the structures. One old man who was very willing to have his photo taken as he used a rotavator to turn the soil whilst others were attending to the mounds gave us a large smile and welcoming wave. Peacefully grazing by the side of the field was a very large oxen who looked as though he could do some serious damage with his large horns.
As we made our way to the top of the fields we dropped into the stream which was the life source of the system. Things now began to get a little more demanding as we negotiated swamps, fallen trees and bushes and leaches. As I was stood with the new guide (forgot his name) he folded his leg behind him, pointed to a very small black strip and said 'Leach'. He then pulled it off, grabbed a large leaf, placed the mite on it, took out his lighter and began to burn both until it was dead. I was surprised he'd killed it but I understood him to say that it takes his blood and he takes its' life. A kind of fair swap. We had now been walking steadily upwards for half an hour and the humidity (70%) was causing me some distress. Things gradually got better as the stream now entered a very narrow gorge, one person wide, with the walls rising 10 to 15 feet above us. At least it gave some shade and the air was cool but damp. This did not last long and once again we were crossing the stream from side to side and rising steeply. The last few hundred yards took us up the side of the valley with only the exposed tree roots as help.
By the time we got our first glimpse of the flower my clothes were drenched in sweat. I actually physically shook my head and the sweat sprayed off like water off a dog's back after having a swim. I was actually feeling a little sick and dizzy from the heat and humidity and had to take a little time to compose myself. A few minutes early the new guide asked me if I play sports and when I said many years ago he replied you still have stamina which I thought was a strange word for him to use with his very limited vocabulary. Only twenty minutes later and my stamina had left me as I hung on to the tree roots on a 60 degree incline staring at what looked like a very big plastic flower some 60 cm across. We were informed that this is not the biggest they grow, quite often they pass 100 cms. The flower only blooms for seven days and was surrounded by black looking cow pats which we were told were dead rotting ones. The flower is a parasite that lives off the tree roots. It took a good hour, of some difficult walking at times, but it was a magical moment for all six of us and one we will remember. We actually felt as though we'd achieved something. Sitting on a bus for ten weeks is not the best way to train for a jungle trek, all be it, a very small one. I will remember for the rest of my life the heat and sweat and John doing a very good Tarzan impression that really echoed up the narrow gorge and made the guide laugh and Anne shouting ,getting me out of here', etc. If you've got a couple of thousand pounds to spare and time on your hands you to can see the world's largest flower. If not go to Kew Gardens, they've got one to.
Our next call was to the so called Grand Canyon which was little more than a river gorge. Although it was disappointing we didn't care we'd done enough seeing the flower to warrant the 150,000 rm a piece. As we sat looking up the gorge from a drink stall we got our first view of an Indonesian fighting cock caged by the roadside. His proud chest was bare and he looked very much worse for wear. John remarked you should see the other one. I also made another interesting observation, at least to me, when we asked for ice cold drinks at the stall the lad serving said he hadn't a fridge but took our money and went across the road to another stall and came back with them. Not something that would happen in the UK. The same thing happened in Varanasi in India when the photo shop sent out a runner to get me the right card reader for my camera. Strange that in small communities outsourcing should exist.
The last part of our tour led us up the beautiful hillside past more well manicured hamlets and gardens to overlook the lake. The lake looked beautiful and remind me of Crater Lake in Southern Oregon USA: it also being a very large volcano. All that was missing was the snow.
It's strange how things turn out, just twenty four hours earlier I was handing over a deposit to a complete stranger with little expectation of a good outcome and now we have had the pleasure and satisfaction of the flower walk, the scenic drive through the area with our very own private chauffeur who also bought us little treats of the area to try, the stunning views over the lake and most important of all the company of a very interesting guide and new friend. We all agreed we'd just had one of the best days so far of the whole trip.
The days was not over yet by a long way. In our conversation with Anita the night before she'd promised to prepare us a local traditional meal. When we arrived at the Turret the table was beautifully laid out with tablecloth, serviettes and a central revolving china food server. The food came very fast and consisted of a very tasty soup of chicken, noodles, vegetables and prawns; fish steamed and served in palm leaves and then the selection of dishes placed in the revolving serving dishes. To finish we had a kind of mango paste pressed and served once again in palm leaves. There were a selection of chicken, beef and vegetables and fried rice. The total bill for six people including the beers and fruit juices came to 500,000 rm just over £30. Our guide Awang who sat on the next table kindly refused my invitation to eat with us as though it was not the done thing.
After our excellent meal we crossed the road to another bar to celebrate Mary's birthday. As we set off Awang leapt onto his motorbike to find a birthday cake and Anita found a single candle. Things in the other bar was far from jovial. Sue and Mary and a few others who'd ignored our comments about the excellent food and service at the Turret had now sat for over an hour for food. Mary was arguing with a young barman come waiter about her stake meal which had just arrived. 'She asked him what is it?' He said 'stake'. She replied 'show me'. This was repeated with the waiter looking more embarrassed. Eventually Mary grabbed the folk and slid it across the centre of the plate saying 'where's the stake'. Sue and Mary walked out after a round of happy birthday.
We spent the last part of the evening checking our mail and trying to delete the junk mail. All in all an excellent day with a very good tour with a lovely man as a guide, great food cooked by a very charming woman, plenty of cold cheap beer and a bit of fun to finish off with.
62 Day: Friday 23rd: Pekanbaru - Bukkitingi
We were glad to get away from the dive and all the conversation on the bus was about it and the two back in London who'd booked it and none of it was complimentary.
The journey was through some beautiful scenery with hills, rivers and dense jungle everywhere. Interspersed between were traditional wooden houses with their upward curved corrugated roofs supposedly to stop devils from landing on them.
We stopped for lunch and our first taste of Indonesian food. It was ok. Once again dried up chicken and sludgy rice. There were some complaints but nothing to the ones coming. We were all aware that we were crossing the Equator today but when it was mentioned and the guide announced 'sorry we've passed it' people were not well pleased. So not only had Ozbus booked us into a terrible hotel but had also employed a guide who didn't see the point of standing on the Equator. If the hotel tonight is bad we could see fireworks.
The Hotel Mitre Arena Gemini was not a great deal better and Sue and Co upgraded to the recommended Novotel for 650,000 rm or £35 a room before we even came down from our room. Our room had a shower and mandi but no air con or fan. We agreed to stay because Bukkitingi at 900 metres above sea level should be reasonably cool at night.
After booking in we set off into town with John to find somewhere to eat. The very first place we came to on the main street was an internet café with little signs of food other than a menu. As we were reading the menu the owner came up to us introduced herself as Anita and very quickly sold the place to us. The Turret Café turned out to be a gem of a place, the food was excellent, the surroundings comfortable and calming, except for the odd noisy bike passing and the broadband link was ok.
After the Indonesian food, so far, I decided to go European and have stake and french fries. The stake was very good as was the fries and they came with an accompaniment of tomato etc salad which was the first since leaving Europe. John's Nasi Gorem, a popular Javan dish of rice, chicken, prawns etc was excellent. A kind of dish of left overs but fresh and tasty. We also had sweets which was rare. I had a bowl of delicious rice pudding with lots of cinnamin and bananas. The beer was ice cold and only 1500 rm the cheapest so far. The local brew is called Bintang and is very good but like all bottle ales gassy.
As we sat waiting for the food we were approached by a local man purporting to be a guide. He quickly brought out two photo albums of groups living as indians on one of the islands of the west coast and said he could arrange it for us. The tour was a minimum of 4 days and so was out of the question. He then presented us with a leaflet of different day tours. Eventually we settled on a half day tour to see the world's largest flower, a canyon he called grand and Lake Manga ( I think). For this we had to pay 500,000rm for three of us and I, always trusting, left a 100.000rm deposit. We left the café content, tired and tipsey agreeing to see our new friend and guide Awanga at 11.00am in the morning.
The journey was through some beautiful scenery with hills, rivers and dense jungle everywhere. Interspersed between were traditional wooden houses with their upward curved corrugated roofs supposedly to stop devils from landing on them.
We stopped for lunch and our first taste of Indonesian food. It was ok. Once again dried up chicken and sludgy rice. There were some complaints but nothing to the ones coming. We were all aware that we were crossing the Equator today but when it was mentioned and the guide announced 'sorry we've passed it' people were not well pleased. So not only had Ozbus booked us into a terrible hotel but had also employed a guide who didn't see the point of standing on the Equator. If the hotel tonight is bad we could see fireworks.
The Hotel Mitre Arena Gemini was not a great deal better and Sue and Co upgraded to the recommended Novotel for 650,000 rm or £35 a room before we even came down from our room. Our room had a shower and mandi but no air con or fan. We agreed to stay because Bukkitingi at 900 metres above sea level should be reasonably cool at night.
After booking in we set off into town with John to find somewhere to eat. The very first place we came to on the main street was an internet café with little signs of food other than a menu. As we were reading the menu the owner came up to us introduced herself as Anita and very quickly sold the place to us. The Turret Café turned out to be a gem of a place, the food was excellent, the surroundings comfortable and calming, except for the odd noisy bike passing and the broadband link was ok.
After the Indonesian food, so far, I decided to go European and have stake and french fries. The stake was very good as was the fries and they came with an accompaniment of tomato etc salad which was the first since leaving Europe. John's Nasi Gorem, a popular Javan dish of rice, chicken, prawns etc was excellent. A kind of dish of left overs but fresh and tasty. We also had sweets which was rare. I had a bowl of delicious rice pudding with lots of cinnamin and bananas. The beer was ice cold and only 1500 rm the cheapest so far. The local brew is called Bintang and is very good but like all bottle ales gassy.
As we sat waiting for the food we were approached by a local man purporting to be a guide. He quickly brought out two photo albums of groups living as indians on one of the islands of the west coast and said he could arrange it for us. The tour was a minimum of 4 days and so was out of the question. He then presented us with a leaflet of different day tours. Eventually we settled on a half day tour to see the world's largest flower, a canyon he called grand and Lake Manga ( I think). For this we had to pay 500,000rm for three of us and I, always trusting, left a 100.000rm deposit. We left the café content, tired and tipsey agreeing to see our new friend and guide Awanga at 11.00am in the morning.
61 Day: Thursday 22nd: Melaka - Ferry to Dumai - Pekanbaru
The drive from the Hotel Wisma Indah to the ferry port took only a few minutes and so it was hard to know why we'd had another reasonably early start when the ferry departure time was 10.30pm. The ferry journey to Somatra was two and half hours long and I was looking forward to lounging on the deck taking in the beautiful Pacific Ocean and the Islands. My first impression of the ferry was that we were entering a catamaran but as we were helped over a short gap with the sea below us I deduced there were two boats and very narrow ones at that. Once inside the choice of seats was limited; down in the bowels, at water level or up one deck. Just by chance we found ourselves in the upper seating area along with a hundred or so others. This boat was as basic as the toilets in this area and whilst on the subject it did have one which consisted of a hole in one corner and what we now call a mandip beside it. A mandip is a trough of water with a bucket type ladle. The idea is to use the water from the trough to either wash or shower yourself with or in this instance to flush what ever needs removing.
The passengers consisted of mainly families etc but besides these there were some seriously shifty looking characters who seemed to be on excellent terms with the captain and his crew. I have to say they didn't look like sharholders of the ferry line which I think was Seatran. John and myself had decided after watching all the characters going in and out of the cockpit that it must either be a tardis or else it was a larger area than the passenger area. After thorough investigation I had established there was only one way out of this sardine tin and that was by the emergency exit which seemed to be being used by the shifty characters who were now openly carrying large bundles of money. We were heading into the Adaman Sea a notorious stretch of water for pirates. The only possible explanation as far as we could see was that these wee money carrying accomplaces just waiting to give the signal once they'd established there were rich pickings aboad. Furthermore in the central isle one to every two rows were very big black buckets which must be used by the pirates to speed up the process of collecting everyones valuables. To make things even more suspicious we suddenly stopped after only a few minutes of traveling for a family to be brought aboad. Very strange.
We were suddenly distracted by the video movie which began with a loud explosion as a suicide bomber blew himself up along with the tuck tuck carrying him and a street full of people. The whole plot from there on seemed to centre around an elderly man who had lost three members of his family, seen bent praying at the graves, and arguing with tuc tuc drivers. We couldn't decide why he hated or distrusted tuck tuck drivers and concluded that he like the one in Bangkok who refused to take us where we asked had driven them to somewhere else instead of a military target killing innocent people and hopefully himself. A tuck tuck carrying a suicide bomber is a scary thought indeed similar to a cruise misile that has gone astray. The journey was less than that stated and we were disembarking when we should have been watching the conclusion to the film.
We passed through Customs and Immigration without hinderance once we'd paid our 25 dollors a piece for a visa. Indeed I have to say the officials were very friendly, welcoming and helpful which is more than you can say for British customs and within half an hour we were on the next bus with our new guide Anton.
The hotel Wisma Indah deserves acknowledgement as one of the worst hotels of the trip. It was dark, dirty and seedy, no air con, shower, wash bason or roof fan. The walls in the so called bathroom were dirty and covered in damp mould with a large a hole leading to the outside and big enough to let rats in. The place was an haven for mosquitoes, rats and cockroaches and was on a par with the other dump in Calcutta.
We arrived quite late and decided to find a bar and hope the room would look better later. It was just our luck to find a five star hotel down the road a short way. It had a very large outdoor swimming pool, a welcoming bar if not a little expensive (£3 a small can of local Bitang) and two rooms vacant out of a total of 150. One of the rooms a penthouse suite was £80 an night whilst a standard one was a mere £30. How much Ozbus was paid for the shit hole up the road is anyones guess. Mark, Mac, Sue and Mary booked the two rooms whilst we went back to confirm that our ours was as bad after beer. It was.
The passengers consisted of mainly families etc but besides these there were some seriously shifty looking characters who seemed to be on excellent terms with the captain and his crew. I have to say they didn't look like sharholders of the ferry line which I think was Seatran. John and myself had decided after watching all the characters going in and out of the cockpit that it must either be a tardis or else it was a larger area than the passenger area. After thorough investigation I had established there was only one way out of this sardine tin and that was by the emergency exit which seemed to be being used by the shifty characters who were now openly carrying large bundles of money. We were heading into the Adaman Sea a notorious stretch of water for pirates. The only possible explanation as far as we could see was that these wee money carrying accomplaces just waiting to give the signal once they'd established there were rich pickings aboad. Furthermore in the central isle one to every two rows were very big black buckets which must be used by the pirates to speed up the process of collecting everyones valuables. To make things even more suspicious we suddenly stopped after only a few minutes of traveling for a family to be brought aboad. Very strange.
We were suddenly distracted by the video movie which began with a loud explosion as a suicide bomber blew himself up along with the tuck tuck carrying him and a street full of people. The whole plot from there on seemed to centre around an elderly man who had lost three members of his family, seen bent praying at the graves, and arguing with tuc tuc drivers. We couldn't decide why he hated or distrusted tuck tuck drivers and concluded that he like the one in Bangkok who refused to take us where we asked had driven them to somewhere else instead of a military target killing innocent people and hopefully himself. A tuck tuck carrying a suicide bomber is a scary thought indeed similar to a cruise misile that has gone astray. The journey was less than that stated and we were disembarking when we should have been watching the conclusion to the film.
We passed through Customs and Immigration without hinderance once we'd paid our 25 dollors a piece for a visa. Indeed I have to say the officials were very friendly, welcoming and helpful which is more than you can say for British customs and within half an hour we were on the next bus with our new guide Anton.
The hotel Wisma Indah deserves acknowledgement as one of the worst hotels of the trip. It was dark, dirty and seedy, no air con, shower, wash bason or roof fan. The walls in the so called bathroom were dirty and covered in damp mould with a large a hole leading to the outside and big enough to let rats in. The place was an haven for mosquitoes, rats and cockroaches and was on a par with the other dump in Calcutta.
We arrived quite late and decided to find a bar and hope the room would look better later. It was just our luck to find a five star hotel down the road a short way. It had a very large outdoor swimming pool, a welcoming bar if not a little expensive (£3 a small can of local Bitang) and two rooms vacant out of a total of 150. One of the rooms a penthouse suite was £80 an night whilst a standard one was a mere £30. How much Ozbus was paid for the shit hole up the road is anyones guess. Mark, Mac, Sue and Mary booked the two rooms whilst we went back to confirm that our ours was as bad after beer. It was.
60 Day: Wednesday 21st November: Penang - Khaula Lumpar - Melaka
As we entered KL, as our guide calls it, it looked quite impressive with all the very tall unusually shaped biuldings. Eventually we made it to the two towers which were according to some on the bus (Mark who loves big buildings) the tallest in the world for a time. The structure was very impressive but the interior or the bit we were allowed into to was as bland and boring as Meadowhall in Sheffield. Some would have liked to go to the top but the public are not allowed past the connecting bridge about half way up and only 1600 tickets are issued each morning on a first come basis. I checked the price of the new Nokia N95 and an Apple laptop. Both were no cheaper than on the internet back home. However, in its favour Kl was clean and although bustling very friendly.
When we got to the hotel we a good room but changed it with Mark because his had a double bed. It did have big window looking out over Melaka's China Town.
Family meeting to inform us we are now flying from Pedang on Somatra to Jakarta because of the state of the roads which are supposedly flooded. I asked our Malaysian guide and he said the roads in Indonesia are always bad but he hadn't heard of any serious weather lately. This trip is absolutely impossible in twelve weeks.
Went to change some money into Indonesian to pay for the visa tomorrow. Our guide in Indonesia blames the cost of the visa on the sudden decrease in tourist numbers over the past five or six years. We hoped this would save time at the border. I hope it's as easy as the crossing from Thailand into Malaysia. Something else which was good about Malaysia along with the archetecture, the friendly people (especially our guide and driver) and the roads. I have to say the people have been great since leaving home.
After the meeting we went for something to eat across the road in a chinese family run café. The food was awful, Anne had a mixed selection and I had a soup with dumplings and a chicken wrap. Anne's consisted of a selection of reconstituted meats that were cold and dry whilst my soup tasted like dishwater and the chicken was wrapped in tin foil and although the sauce was tasty the meat was poor. Then we went to the Discovery Bar, a famous place for backpackers, to have a beer. After a pleasant conversation with the female owner we signed her visiters book and watched the tea wallah next door.
The bar had an outside area with a stall and a very thin chinese looking man selling herbal teas. Cars, taxis, tuck tucks and pedestrians all stopped to take tea. Many came for tea and take aways which were served in little plastic bags with a pull string to seal them. Those drinking at the stall followed a routine played out with the man serving the teas. He would take a bowl wipe it round with a cloth and pour the tea from a silver teapot which he raised and lowered above the bowl as though to put a head on it. The customer would then take the bowl in two hands and swerl it round presumably to disovle all the sugar and then drink in either one gulp or two. The whole process only took a minute at most and while we watched 20 to 30 people passed through.
When we got to the hotel we a good room but changed it with Mark because his had a double bed. It did have big window looking out over Melaka's China Town.
Family meeting to inform us we are now flying from Pedang on Somatra to Jakarta because of the state of the roads which are supposedly flooded. I asked our Malaysian guide and he said the roads in Indonesia are always bad but he hadn't heard of any serious weather lately. This trip is absolutely impossible in twelve weeks.
Went to change some money into Indonesian to pay for the visa tomorrow. Our guide in Indonesia blames the cost of the visa on the sudden decrease in tourist numbers over the past five or six years. We hoped this would save time at the border. I hope it's as easy as the crossing from Thailand into Malaysia. Something else which was good about Malaysia along with the archetecture, the friendly people (especially our guide and driver) and the roads. I have to say the people have been great since leaving home.
After the meeting we went for something to eat across the road in a chinese family run café. The food was awful, Anne had a mixed selection and I had a soup with dumplings and a chicken wrap. Anne's consisted of a selection of reconstituted meats that were cold and dry whilst my soup tasted like dishwater and the chicken was wrapped in tin foil and although the sauce was tasty the meat was poor. Then we went to the Discovery Bar, a famous place for backpackers, to have a beer. After a pleasant conversation with the female owner we signed her visiters book and watched the tea wallah next door.
The bar had an outside area with a stall and a very thin chinese looking man selling herbal teas. Cars, taxis, tuck tucks and pedestrians all stopped to take tea. Many came for tea and take aways which were served in little plastic bags with a pull string to seal them. Those drinking at the stall followed a routine played out with the man serving the teas. He would take a bowl wipe it round with a cloth and pour the tea from a silver teapot which he raised and lowered above the bowl as though to put a head on it. The customer would then take the bowl in two hands and swerl it round presumably to disovle all the sugar and then drink in either one gulp or two. The whole process only took a minute at most and while we watched 20 to 30 people passed through.
59 Day: Tuesday 20th November: Songkhla - Penang, Malayasia
Crossed to the island over the 13 km bridge. Passed the fort built by the British and many good looking colonial buildings but many in need of renovation. It's very pleasing and somehow reasuring to be surrounded by reconisable archetecture even If much of it is in a desperate state. I can't say I like oriental archetecture.
Went to the wine shop next door to the hotel: Aldridge Australian wine cost nearly £7 a bottle.
Meal provided by Leighton was superb for the money: starter of carrot soup with brown wheaten bread, fish course of king prawn on salmon and ham salad and a main course of our choice (lamb) etc. This was probably the best meal of the whole trip and cost 30 rms about £4. I also had a bottle of Argentinian wine which was excellent.
Had an interesting conversation about socialism with John and Scooby but as always it was spoilt by Anne. This was the first and obviously the last interesting debate on this trip. I decided to go back to the hotel sooner than be talked to like some nursery kid.
We were stopping at the Hotel Cititel a five star palace. Large marble central lounge with a shopping type mall running off consisting of bars, restaurants, shops selling choculates, photo copies etc and some executive club with a ponsy looking official checking people trying to enter. Dressed in my pink sweaty tee shirt and knee length shorts I decided not to try for entrance. Next to it was a corridor running to some kind of conference room. A placard with an arrow pointing the way said 'Getting the best out of the box with Dell' and 'Assessing Staff Apraisal'. Needles to say I gave that load of bollocks a miss to. Something I couldn't miss was the fancy lift which operated with the room card. It was made by Mitsibishi and needed one of their top brains to work it. Spent about twenty minutes going up and down with a dozen other poor souls trying get the damn thing to stop at the right floor. I got little tired of smiling and saying hello to the same people each time the doors opened. Instead of going to floor seven it passed to eight and then went back down to three and then basement before repeating the process over and over again. It's still a mystery how we got out of there. In a few days time we'll be standing outside the twin towers in Kaula Lumpa. I think I’ll give their lift a miss.
So all in all the hotel looked impressive but had no atmosphere whatsoever. So much for posh hotels.
Went to the wine shop next door to the hotel: Aldridge Australian wine cost nearly £7 a bottle.
Meal provided by Leighton was superb for the money: starter of carrot soup with brown wheaten bread, fish course of king prawn on salmon and ham salad and a main course of our choice (lamb) etc. This was probably the best meal of the whole trip and cost 30 rms about £4. I also had a bottle of Argentinian wine which was excellent.
Had an interesting conversation about socialism with John and Scooby but as always it was spoilt by Anne. This was the first and obviously the last interesting debate on this trip. I decided to go back to the hotel sooner than be talked to like some nursery kid.
We were stopping at the Hotel Cititel a five star palace. Large marble central lounge with a shopping type mall running off consisting of bars, restaurants, shops selling choculates, photo copies etc and some executive club with a ponsy looking official checking people trying to enter. Dressed in my pink sweaty tee shirt and knee length shorts I decided not to try for entrance. Next to it was a corridor running to some kind of conference room. A placard with an arrow pointing the way said 'Getting the best out of the box with Dell' and 'Assessing Staff Apraisal'. Needles to say I gave that load of bollocks a miss to. Something I couldn't miss was the fancy lift which operated with the room card. It was made by Mitsibishi and needed one of their top brains to work it. Spent about twenty minutes going up and down with a dozen other poor souls trying get the damn thing to stop at the right floor. I got little tired of smiling and saying hello to the same people each time the doors opened. Instead of going to floor seven it passed to eight and then went back down to three and then basement before repeating the process over and over again. It's still a mystery how we got out of there. In a few days time we'll be standing outside the twin towers in Kaula Lumpa. I think I’ll give their lift a miss.
So all in all the hotel looked impressive but had no atmosphere whatsoever. So much for posh hotels.
58 Day: Monday 19th November: Koh Samui - Songkhla
Left Home Bay at 7.30 to catch the ferry and sadly leave the American beakfasts, the entertaing birds and this relaxing haven. Only just made the ferry. The ferry journey back was no more memorable than the outward. However, the return to the bus was quite eventful for the eventual head to head clash between to the two guides over Leighton's missing mobile. As we sat on the ferry heading to Samui Leighton suddenly discoved his mobile was missing with all the Ozbus numbers etc. He immediately assumed he'd left it on the bus with his keys which were gone. On entry to the bus his keys were there but not his phone. On informing Tami she took little notice and basically ignored him and his request for her to ask the driver. When further asked she said why didn't you tell me on the island and I would have phoned the driver. He then made out he wasn't concerned about it because she'd said we could leave antyhing on the bus. In effect he was trying to shift the blame and she was having nothing of it intimating he was drunk the morning we left Bankok and he was to blame. With Fe now demanding that she rang the police to report the theft which was tantamount to saying the driver was the thief things were made worse. He was unable to defend himself not speaking any English at all. Personally he was a good driver, pleasant, friendly and very helpful at all times and would be foolish to steal something from his own bus risking his job and prosecution. Eventually it was agreed that the police would be contacted once we arrived at the hotel.
Another session of shouting and recriminations broke out in the hotel forecourt with a policeman present this time. Eventually Tami stormed off shouting that Thai people are not thieves and that she refused to stay in his presence any longer. She also accussed him again of losing the phone as a result of being drunk in Bangkok.
The hotel we were now booking into was a fine looking establishment with three stars, swimming pool etc.
Another session of shouting and recriminations broke out in the hotel forecourt with a policeman present this time. Eventually Tami stormed off shouting that Thai people are not thieves and that she refused to stay in his presence any longer. She also accussed him again of losing the phone as a result of being drunk in Bangkok.
The hotel we were now booking into was a fine looking establishment with three stars, swimming pool etc.
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