From Sumatra to Lombok, a world of difference

  With its tranquil atmosphere, Danau Toba, or Lake Toba, was once known as backpacker central. Little remains of those times, although the place still welcomes plenty of local tourists, mainly in the form of religious or integrating retreats. Located in the crater of a volcano (which has been extinct probably since the times when dinosaurs roamed Earth, but boy, when it blew, it took out half of the world's population – ok, I know, there's a contradiction in there), that's not a surprise, as the vibe and scenery of the enormous lake are simply spiritual, especially when cloudy mists start to obscure the horizon. Ok, the fact that magic mushrooms are readily available may somewhat add to the mystique. In the middle is Samosir Island, Singapore-sized, covered by a lush jungle and inhabited by the friendly Batak people. Yup, those of the formerly cannibalistic headhunting culture. No worries, cannibalism and head loping were largely part of their ritualistic practices or forms of punishment, not just for fun.

  We rented a traditional boat-shaped Batak house, with a low entrance (forces visitors to bow respectfully – P could finally properly honor his queen) and a high ceiling under an ornately decorated roof. Cozy. But it was the veranda that occupied most of our time, where we'd spend lazy days reading. We'd take dips in the clear water, somewhat quickly scrambling out in thermal shock, as the temperature of the deep lake was a vast departure from our recently tropical climates. Come dinnertime, our sole purpose was to find the freshest catch of the day. Simple life. But nightly, that simple life was interrupted by the screeching sensation that was retreat karaoke. Members were probably just trying to blow off some steam after days full of mental exercises. Nevertheless, we decided to flee.

  And flee we did over the next 24 hours. The combo of ferry-local bus with gauged paneling-becak aka tuk-tuk with side car got us to Medan, where we spent the night on the wooden benches of the airport. Disturbed only by mosquitoes, we caught a flight early next morning to Jakarta, the capital, and then another to the island of Lombok. We grabbed oh yet another car to the harbor in order to cross into the Gili Islands, where all the real fun started. Using every excuse under the sun, shady boat operators tried to convince us that there are no afternoon public ferries onto Gili Air. Their solution: charter a private boat. Cost difference: $1 vs. $25. Not piggy bank breaking, but this is Indonesia. Cheap Indonesia. And like many people, we disliked the fact the someone was so deliberately trying to rip us off. We parked our butts on our bags, and decided to wait and see what would happen. In pouring rain. We almost got a ride on a private boat of some white island resident, when a member of the koperasi stepped in and threatened the captain with withdrawing of harbor privileges if he took us. God forbid we'd try to cheat them out of the passage money. So we waited some more, until enough people gathered and, surprise, a public ferry was launched. Tired and soaked, we got to Gili Air.  Despite the slight glimmer of “in-your-face” satisfaction, the experience was so achingly disappointing that, for the first time this trip, one thought took precedence – it's time to go home.

  Despite glowing reviews, Gili Air is a bit overrated. Yes, the water is crystal blue. Yes, there's a beautiful volcanic backdrop from Lombok on the East coast of the island. Yes, you can find both chilled-out and groovy, depending on your mood. But there are no true beaches, as washed out coral litters the scant patches of, yes, white sand. Not much room for barefoot strolls or even a sunbathing towel, until low tide in the evenings. Yet more coral populates the shallow waters, which, while great for snorkeling, prevents pleasurable swimming. And aren't those the main activities of sun-seeking vacationers? We did a dive, and, despite promises of sharks and turtles, that particular location lacked the variety and quantity of sea life we found in other places. But we did see turtles!

Our outside bathroom

Genius

No motorized traffic on the island

  With a bit under two weeks to go, we drift west to the most famous of Indonesian islands, Bali.

People of the Forest - Bukit Lawang

  “Brother. Sister. Welcome. How may I help you?” - we heard a second after we stepping off the local minibus in Bukit Lawang. Wary of the usual tout spiel, we tried to ignore him. Hours without sleep, we made a nice slow circle through the village, just... to end up back where we started. Groggily, we agreed to follow our self-appointed guide in search of a room. And, it seems, Oman remained our guide for the rest of the stay. 

  Since jungle trekking in search of wild orangutans is Bukit Lawang's main draw, the sale tactics start right off the bus. I read that guides approach on some kind of a rotational basis, ensuring sharing of the profits. Fair enough, especially since a flash flood destroyed the village in 2003.

  We signed up for a one day trek with Oman, eager to see the spectacular primates after encountering a few up close the day before at the rehabilitation center's feeding platform. In the wild, orangutans are now only found in the rain forests of Borneo and Sumatra. They are solitary animals, although mothers rear their young for up to seven years. They live mostly in the trees, constructing elaborate sleeping nests every night and thus negating the need for grounding. Besides, you don't want to face an orangutan on the ground, as that's when they usually respond to perceived danger.  They deftly navigate the branches, from the tiniest twines to the thickest trunks, pirouetting like some skilled circus acrobats or slow-mo ballerinas. I guess their long, red-brown fur could surely serve as tutus. Intelligent, their expressive faces mimic human emotion.

  So in we went into the jungle in search of these prodigious great apes. The weather established a pattern, soaking the jungle in torrential rain every evening, which in places made trekking hard work. I'd seek purchase on the wet jungle floor, only to find squishy mud or slippery, treacherous roots of gnarled trees.   Rewarded for persevering, we encountered ten orangutans during the course of the day, with ample time to observe their behavior as well as the great apes themselves, particularly the mothers with their uncoordinated young clinging to their sides. We couldn't avert out eyes.

  Even though the orangs were the primary focus of the trek, we reveled in the feel of the resourceful jungle, where trees produced rubber (locally known as condom trees, haha) and mutant – sized ants provided a natural cure for the common cold. We were sick, but no, we did not indulge. We saw Thomas or funky monkeys with their spiky hairdos. We aped (haha) singsong peacocks in their jungle catcalls. We listened to toucans and their manic “tuk tuk tuk tuk tuktuktuk ha ha ha haaaa haaaa” hoots. Sounding deliciously evil, they made me laugh every time.

P, king of the jungle Oman and Chris

Squeeze on its rump, and what comes out cures common colds

  Instead of trekking back, we opted for a jungle “taxi” aka few-tubes-strewn-together-by-rope down the rapid-filled river. Even after getting a faceful of the churning water, I thought it great fun. We ended the trek tired, muddy and wet. But our expectations were met. And there were only a few leeches.

  After an evening of “tost-ing” (Indonesian tost! = English cheers!) with our trekking buddies Kat and Chris, we faced, yet again, a day full of dusty Indonesian buses. After missing the last ferry, we were forced to spend a night in the crappiest room ever in nearby Parapat and crossed Lake Toba the next morning to the island of Tuk Tuk for some much-chilled out (literally and figuratively) respite.

Palm oil plantation

Slowing it down in Pulau Weh

  Indonesia. Beautiful, wild, still welcoming. It has captivating natural scenery for every kind of pleasure and adventure seeker: beaches, jungles, volcanoes. Due to its location on a number of tectonic plates, it's also prone to natural disasters, particularly of the earthquake and volcanic variety. Maybe it's this capricious unpredictability of Mother Nature that prevents a gross influx of tourists. Or it may be the sheer vastness of the country that diffuses the waves that might otherwise be here. Fine and dandy with us. I'm excepting Bali, of course.

  We started in Sumatra. We flew into Banda Aceh, the most northwest city of Indonesia in the Islamic Sharia-ruled province of Aceh (you know conservative Sharia law, of the steal and lose a hand sort?). In December of 2004, it was devastated by the Boxing Day earthquake and the ensuing tsunami, which claimed and injured hundreds of thousands of people just in the city itself. International aid relief poured in, but some of the damage is noticeable till this day. From a conversation with a visiting medical student and a local diver master, we gleaned some insight into the ineffectiveness of the local emergency response. Add in corruption, and the lack of complete restructuring is not surprising.

  We didn't dabble in Banda Aceh, but instead took a slow ferry, packed in tight with people, supplies and vehicles, to neighboring Pulau (island) Weh, known mostly for its pristine underwater wonders. For a week, we rented a bungalow in Iboih that was perched right over rocks that crawled with crabs during the day, only to be pounded by the crashing waves of a high tide at night. Though there were no real beaches, the clear, azure waters of the Andaman Sea and the coral teeming with life beckoned, right from our front porch. Snorkeling was the name of the game. Fish were abundant, in an array of colors matching the rainbow, from cute clownfish (think Nemo) to meter-long groupers. There were plenty of moray eels, octopi, schools of ink-spurting squid, even the deadly lionfish. Pawel also went diving, though he intended to do a cave dive, which seemed a bit too claustrophobic for me. We signed up for dives the next day, only to wake up with stuffed noses and sore throats. No diving for us for now.

  Our main purpose on the island obliterated for the time being, we decided to move on to Bukit Lawang for some jungle trekking amid the rare wild orangutans.

Indonesian version of a tuk tuk

Singapore, the face of modern Asia

  Singapore turned out to be our respite from the chaos of the rest of SE Asia, despite fears of health consequences from the Sumatran haze. True, the country-state imposes strict regulations that at the beginning somewhat irritated my US-born sensitivity to, well, freedom protection, no matter how small the actual right. No alcohol or cigarette imports into the country. No chewing gum. Crossing of streets at designated areas only. And these are just the small rules, all scrupulously enforced.

Oh, durian is one smelly fruit

  I do have to admit, though, that the results are pretty spectacular. Months of travel instilled in us expectations of hustle, swarms of people and at times overbearing racket. We found little of that in Singapore, an oasis of safety and modernity. It's clean, green and efficient. We wandered the city, letting our legs and frequent AC-inspired stops lead the way.

Got AC?

  So: Orchard Road, renown for shopping desires of every kind. Check. 

 Little India. Check. Iconic Marina Bay Sands complex. Check. 

Grand old Raffles Hotel.  Check.

 Boat and Clark Quays, remnants of the old districts. Esplanade, witness to frequent concerts. Gardens by the Bay and its impressive, world-spanning collection of plants. Check, check and check. 

 But our favorite were the Botanic Gardens, simply stunning in their design. Since we quartered nearby, we'd take prolonged detours through the gardens every time we walked by.

  Marzena, family of family, and her husband and kids welcomed us into their home. It was gratifying to revel in homemade meals, late-night patio sit-ins as well as a night out and, gasp, fresh laundry. Comforts of home, a full month before home.

Nutritious dragonfruit

  Almost eight months have passed since the beginning of our travels. We eagerly move on to the more adventurous (and last!) of our destinations – Indonesia.