Lombok, Indonesia

From Padangbai, we decided to take the slow public ferry across to Lombok. You could pay for a "fast boat" but it was about 6 times the price, and only cut about 2 hours off the journey time. A shuttle bus was supossed to arrive at our hostel to pick us up at 8:45, but to our surprise showed up at 8:30. These things are never early in Indonesia. We rushed to throw things into our bags and wolf down our banana pancakes, then piled into the van, which drove us all of about 800m down the road and dumped us at the entrance to the harbor. We walked towards the boat, but were herded aside, along with all the other tourists to wait. We weren't sure what we were waiting for, but when we were finally allowed to board the boat we realised that they had let all the locals board first, and the tourists board last. There was limited seating to begin with, and it was all taken, with some locals stretched out across 3 seats. I was so unimpressed by the unfairness of the situation so I woke up one fellow who was pretending to sleep across three seats and made him get up so we could sit down. Once seated, the journey went smoothly... we even arrived on time. Our ticket was supposed to get us all the way to Sengiggi, and so upon arrival at the port the tourists were  herded aside and divided into groups based on who we had purchased our boat tickets from, and piled into rickety old vans. We arrived in Sengigi and were dropped off at a tourist office (not surpisingly), but they were actually very kind. They let us use their internet, and then a phone to track down the hotel where Dewey's friends were staying, and then actually dropped us off at the front door... free of charge! We checked into our cute bamboo bungalow on the beach (a bit of a splurge at $12/person, but so worth it), and met up with Danielle, Adriana and Zuhud, who were all surprised to see we'd actually made it. Danielle (a friend of Dewey’s from Sun Valley) and her boyfriend, Zuhud (Oeoet), live on Kalimantan (the Indonesian portion of the Island of Borneo) where they work for Schlumberger.

We rented a couple scooters, piled 3 people on one, 2 on the other and headed down to Coco Beach for a snack. The seating at Coco Beach was traditional Indonesian; you all sit or kneal around a short table, on a raised platform, shaded by a bamboo roof. It takes awhile to get used to sitting like this, and Dewey and I figited around trying to get comfortable. I was starting to come down with a bit of a cold so I ordered a special "Bandrek" drink, made from ginger, lemongrass, cinnamon, cardamom, star anise and brown sugar. It claimed to "help heal influenza and good for blood circulation". It tasted like Christmas in a cup! Absolutely delicious, and I think it actually worked. My cold went away the next day.

Our “economy” bungalow at Santai Beach featured a porch with a hammock and cushions, a tiled, private outdoor washroom with cold shower and bed with mosquito canopy. It was simple, and perfect.

During the next three days in Sengiggi with Danielle and Zuhud (Adrianna had to fly back) we explored the area with our local hosts. It was a nice change to have locals show us around, and we had some genuinely local experiences.

One morning, we arranged to have some surf lessons. We rented board and rash-guards, and the girls got booties to protect our feet from the rough coral bottom. The ocean was salty and abusive but we all got a few good rides in, in between being pummelled by waves.

For lunch one day Danielle and Zuhud took us to a Panang-style eatery on the side of the road. They place all the dishes on the table in front of you and then you just pay for what you eat. It is all very inexpensive. You could be brave and try intestine, skin, tongue, whole stuffed squid or whole fried little fish, or you could be less brave and stick to the familiar egg, cabbage, eggplant, tofu, tempeh, sambal and a variety of other local dishes which had no doubt been sitting out all morning. You then got a bowl, a dish of water, and a basket of rice for the table. Locals don’t use cutlery, they eat with their hands, but Dewey and I weren’t quite there yet, so we used a spoon.

They day we arrived Danielle, Zuhud and Adrianna had just returned from a four day trek up Gunung Rinjani. They raved about the experience (it was the second time doing the trek for Danielle and Zuhud), so Dewey and I decided to book a trek as well. We chose the 3 day, 2 night trek, which was the same distance as the 4-day trek, but with less rest. We had to pay the tour company with cash, and Indonesian money is worth so little that our pile of 50,000 Rp bills looked like we should be buying a car or something.

We had to switch hotels part way through our stay because they ran out of room at Santai, so we headed to Wayan Cafe, closer to downtown Sengigi. We rented scooters again (the best way to get around), and made it about 500meters from the hotel when our scooter ran out of gas. Danielle and Zuhud went and retrieved some petrol and brought it back for us.  

The second hotel was nice, but didn’t have the same relaxing feel as Santai, and it was actually more expensive. Dewey and I were on the top floor and in close range to the loudspeaker from the local mosque, so we were woken by prayer call at 4:30am. Our neighbours behind the hotel had a huge bat in a cage that was in full sunshine, and not big enough for the bat (which looked like it had about a 2-foot wingspan, at least). The owners would put fruit on top of the cage, but the family of rats living behind the shed had figured that out, and repeatedly stole the fruit. We watched the whole sad scene. Poor bat.

One evening Dewey and I scootered up the North coast of the island through some smaller towns, along the coast.

The day before our trek we headed into Mataram (the large city on Lombok) on our scooters to get a few warmer clothing items and some snacks for the trek. Dewey found a fleece jacket for about $14, and I found a warm windproof fleece hat for $2. We also picked up some local snacking foods (peanuts, banana chips, and some less familiar items that don’t quite translate). We were happy to be following Zuhud as he navigated the busy traffic of Mataram, which was quite chaotic. Stop lights are rare, and mean pretty much nothing even if they do exist. You are supposed to drive on the left hand side of the road, but often people just drove where ever there was enough space (the local definition of ‘enough space’ was questionable at times). You shared the road with bicycles, horse-drawn carriages, mobile food stands, trucks, pedestrians, and hundreds of scooters bearing two to five people and various other items. It was amazing to see how much stuff, and how many people you can fit on one scooter when there are no safety rules.

We ate lunch at a very local restaurant on the outskirts of Mataram overlooking a fish pond and some rice patties. English wasn’t on the menu so Danielle and Zuhud took charge of ordering. It was all delicious; we both agreed it was probably the best Indonesian food we’ve had so far. We had fish wrapped in banana leaf, tofu and tempeh in spicy sambal, battered shrimp, curried vegetables, and a spicy salad made of bean sprouts, coconut and spinach. The leafy green vegetables in the curry had been hand-tied into neat little bundles.

On the way back to Sengiggi we stopped at roadside vendors to buy Durian fruit and some interesting little drinks which are made in a plastic bag and consist of jellies, coconut, fruit, syrup, coconut milk, and some other things too. We opened up the Durian fruit back at the hotel... it has an overpowering smell and bizarre texture, almost like sweet avocado. It is an acquired taste, but definitely something you need to try at least once in Asia. It looked like a medieval torture device (covered in hard brown spikes), and weighed about 5 pounds.

 

At 5:00am on Sunday morning we were picked up in front of our hotel by a crazy driver (aren't they all) in a nice vehicle (unusual) and drove two hours up the coast towards Senaru. There we had breakfast (banana pancake!) before joining forces with the rest of our trekking group and porters and heading onward to Simbalun by pick-up truck. At somepoint we had to sit on the edge of the road for about 20 minutes while someone went back to buy water they had forgotten. We arrived, purchased our trekking permits and were on the trail by 9:45.

The first part of the trail was through burnt grassland, and we discovered just how much you can sweat hiking uphill, with a pack in the mid-day Indonesian sun.

We stopped at a bridge for lunch, then continued on uphill towards the crater rim.

 It was dry, dusty and exhausting. We were oh-so-thankful for frequent misty cloudcover, which was more frequent the higher we climbed. We arrived at camp one, on the crater rim, around sunset.

We were shocked to see how much weight the porters would carry, balanced on a bamboo rod on their shoulders, and wearing only flip flops (or no footwear at all).

They would stop to collect firewood along the way.

Here is a view of the summit from the rim-camp:

And a view from the rim down into the crater:

We had a postively terrible sleep on the first night. We didn't know they even manufactured matress pads that thin, and we were camped right on gravel, with tents all around us. Monkeys poked at the tent all night, and no one seemed to sleep. We were woken up at 2:30 for some tea and questionable cheese and crackers before begining our ascent to the summit. The 3-hour climb was steep and exhausting. For the most part, the terrain was deep sandy shale, and so for every two steps you took foward you slid about one step back... and then there were the effects of altitude on top of that, slowing us down.

We reached the summit right at sunrise, not 30 seconds too early. It was grueling, but so rewarding.

The summit was very cold, so we didn't linger long. We headed back down to the rim camp, where we enjoyed breakfast (banana pancakes, again!), then packed up our things. Monkeys spied on us the whole time, just waiting for you to turn your back on your belongings. Occasionally they'd get ahold of a plastic bag full of something, race each other up a tree and rip apart the contents. There were garbage bins, but it was rather pointless since the monkeys just spread the garbage all over the place.

We hiked down from the crater rim to the lake at the bottom; a very steep, 3 hour descent. There were natural hot springs at the bottom to ease our sore knees.

By lunchtime, we were exhausted and were ready to call it a day, but we had another 3-hour steep hike back up the crater to the rim. We needed some 5-hour energy and our i-pods to find the motivation to get back up to the rim. Fortunately, the views on the way back up were pretty motivational as well. We took fewer pictures though because we couldn't carry our cameras around our necks or in our hands since we needed "all fours" for climbing upwards.

The hike back up was practically rock-climbing. For a good part of the ascent it was steep enough that you needed both hands to climb. A grueling acsent for tired bodies carrying packs.

We reached the crater rim late in the afternoon and were pretty ready to just crash. They brought our dinner to our tent, and I think we were asleep by 8pm. There were no monkeys on the second night, just dogs.

The view of the sunset from our tent on the last night:

On the final day we had about a 5-hour hike down to Simbalun. The trail started out step and dusty but then descended into tropical rainforest. It was hot and humid, but thankfully we were shaded by the treecover and therefore out of the sun.