No Haggling Mojo

I'm chillaxing (cringe) in Jakarta for a few days. And when I say chillaxing (cringe) I mean it.

I bought 2 books yesterday, I've finished one and I'm halfway through the second. I think I'll be taking them back to swap tomorrow. Sue Grafton, check out her 'Alphabet' series...awesome stuff.

One of the reasons I'm not really going out (apart from the fact that both Bangkok and Jakarta were just a means to an end for me....planes), is that I can feel my haggling mojo is way down. I'm exhausted, knackered, tired of the endless back and forth that goes with buying anything anywhere other than a restaurant or supermarket. It's great fun, don't get me wrong, but phewey!

I'll be hopping on a plane tomorrow evening and heading to Sydney Oz, where I'll be seeing my lovely Linda for the first time in 6 months. Hullo Lindar!

This afternoon I shall be carefully going through my bag and making sure I have nothing hidden that would draw the attention of the radar-possessing, heightened sensitivity brigade that is Aussie customs personnel. I've also scrubbed my shoes clean of Mount Rinjani and Bromo filth, washed and brushed my hair to within an inch of its life, and selected a decent outfit to fly in. All this in the hopes that I won't walk through customs and be pulled aside on account of looking like a parasite-ridden hermit lady. I wouldn't want to suffer the indignity of being rolled in a paddling pool of disinfectant and held in quarantine as a biohazard prior to repatriation.

So....no new pics for this blog entry, unless you'd like me to take some quick shots of the view from my window (of the exterior AC units inside the lightwell), or the bathroom (constantly dripping...but effective shower)?

The next time you hear from me I will (should) be reporting from Sydney. See ya'll soon xxxx

My, But Where Did All This Rain Come From Borobudur??

After the beautiful Mount Bromo I was packed straight on a bus to Yogyakarta, or Jogja as the locals call it. It was actually a lovely bus (for most of us, my mate Marie had a seat right at the front with almost zero legroom and was half sat on the gear shift), the only problem being that my arse has taken to complaining at even the shortest sit-down journies. I think that last epic trip did me in. All was good, we were on our way to Jogja, a cultural epicentre of Java.

Once we arrived we checked in at one of the only places with any room left, a tiny place called Losmen Anda. I initially balked at the room, it looked filthy, but upon further inspection, the sheets and mattresses were clean, the bathroom was clean, it could just have done with a bit of a spruce up really. The staff didn't speak much english, but were really lovely and helpful, plus it was down a little alleyway and quite enclosed, so you felt very safe at night.

Jogja is where most people come to to visit Borobudur. The standard set up is that people go for either a sunrise or sunset trip, a few hours in total as Borobudur is only an hour from Jogja. Marie and I decided we'd quite like to stay overnight and explore the town a little bit. We managed to nab our own private minibus for less than a fiver each by wandering around the small tourist offices until one guy just offered to take us in his little van. WIN!

We stayed in a really cute and quiet place right opposite Candi Borobudur. It's a buddhist temple built during the 9th century, but it's use declined as Islam took over throughout the 14th century. It was only really rediscovered in 1814 by Sir Stamford Raffles (London Zoo anyone??), who then brought it to the attention of the world. A huge restoration project was undertaken in 1975, finishing in 1983, and Borobudur is now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Quite deservedly, though I'm glad I didn't go for either of the sunrise or sunset tours...I was there for both and the weather prevented any decent shots. Indeed, sunset was a complete loss with an epic storm starting about half an hour beforehand. RUN!!!
Still, Candi Borobudur is an amazing temple, rivalling Angkor Wat as a major temple attraction in SE Asia. I'd apologise for the mistiness of the pictures but IT'S NOT MAH FAULT!! So there :o)

Gorgeous carvings on the galleries of the temple

These bells along the top of the temple each contain a buddha image

See! You have to reach in and touch his toes or hands for good luck

The only thing that slightly interfered with the experience was the hundreds of photographs I was asked to pose for. I'm not entirely sure how many schoolgroups were there, but it seemed like thousands to me, after I'd been asked to pose for photos with at least half of them. At one point I was sat down with a videocamera stuck in my face and 30 screaming children jumping around me. I couldn't help but laugh when I was stopped by a group of 2o kids who had a group photo taken with me, and then passed their mobiles to their mates to get a pic by themselves....THEN took their mobiles back and took a pic of me by myself. I felt like a zoo exhibit. Those guys at the end of the video above were the first to ask me for a picture.

As if the temple itself wasn't enough, we went for a wee wander in the afternoon whilst waiting for 'sunset'. At one point we stood around wondering if there was anything else to see, we spotted a building over to the left and I thought I could see some people inside. Marie thought it was an animal. We got a bit closer and we realised that it was an elephant. An Olifant!

Of course we crept closer, not seeing anyone nearby, and stood posing for pics in front of the gated complex with the elephants in the background. Then we heard a voice calling hello, and a guy appeared from around the corner. Far from being in trouble, he actually invited us in to feed the elephants bananas, whoop! Believe it or not, in the 3 months I've been travelling around Asia, this is the closest I've gotten to an elephant. *How much will THIS cost us?* I thought. But afterwards, as we chatted, said thank you and goodbye, they didn't ask for a thing.

Genuine human kindness does exist :D

Indonesian Bus Journies....to Wonderful Wonders

I went on an epic journey yesterday, instead of using my return ticket to Padangbai in Bali, I bought a ticket on an AC bus through Mul's brother going to Probolinggo in Java. Probolinggo is the platform for forays to Mount Bromo (by 4x4 I hasten to add!!).

The bus was lovely and big and AC, it's still a local service though, so I was the only Westerner on board. I was slightly concerned when I read 'Primitive Service' emblazoned across the side of the bus.....and even more concerned at the huge crack that spider-webbed across the entire right side of the windscreen....right in front of the driver. Noone else seemed concerned though, so I settled down and we set off.

It was a bus-ferry-bus-ferry-bus journey encompassing Lombok, the whole of Bali, and part of East Java. The first ferry was fun, we arrived at the port and were told that we couldn't get on a ferry until after 10pm, it was only 8pm. The bus turned the AC off and it was so hot that most people chose to mill around outside rather than stay on it....there wasn't much to do in the dark and so I mostly stayed on the bus and sweated it out.

At about 11pm we finally boarded the ferry. I had to take my big bag and so when I walked on looking hot and bothered....and conspicuously white....I was offered a cabin. Huzzah! It wasn't much, but it was private and had a bunkbed...I could have a nap. So I settled in and down for a few winks. I heard some strange noises whilst half asleep, but didn't think much of it, the whole ferry was groaning around me.

3 hours later my alarm went off and I groggily climbed down from the top bunk and turned on the light.....only to see a rather large furry body and pink tail disappearing under the bed.OMG!!! I tiptoed to my bag and found that the little bastard had been into my bag and nibbled through the little sealed watercup that I'd been given earlier with my lunch...all into my bag.....joyous.

There were also a couple of rather large cockroaches on the wall near where my head had been.

Iz niiice.

I still stuck around in the room....it was actually preferable to being outside and hanging around with nowhere to sit. I installed myself on the top bunk, keeping one eye on Colin and his mate, and watched the ferry approach the harbour....whilst thinkinng of all the rat-bourne diseases I could look forward to. I kept hearing squeaking, it may have been from the ferry, but I imagined a nest of hungry rat-babies under the bed. Cute.....not so much.

So, back on the bus for the journey through Bali. It wasn't long before we hit Ubung station in Denpasar, and there we stayed....for 2 hours. Apparently there was something wrong with the engine. I was getting some amused looks, being sat outside the bus amongst a bunch of Indonesian guys, all of us looking folornly at the 3 men trying to fix it.

It was at this point I realised what a novelty I was. Sure, all the kids had been running down to the front of the bus to stare at me.....repeatedly, but apparently westerners NEVER use this service. Various passengers came up to me to chat, always the same questions:

Where are you from?

How long have you been in Indonesia?

Where have you been in Indonesia?

What do you think of it?

At this point the language barrier usually takes its toll. One guy came and shared his sweets with me, which was nice! Eventually we were back on the bus and driving through some of the most beautiful areas I've ever seen. I need to take time to come back and see Bali properly. I was dreadig the next ferry crossing from Bali to Java, but to my surprise the coach drove straight on and the ferry was lovely. The drive to Probolinggo from there was also relatively uneventful, and punctuated by a lovely Balinese guy who came up to me whilst we were at a rest stop and gave me great kudos and respect for travelling 'like the locals do'. This guy had been drinking rum from about 2pm until late the day before, and had managed to miss his flight to Sulawesi, so he was bussing and boating the whole way....nutter.

Finally I was dropped in Probolinggo and booked my trip to Bromo which was stunning.....except for the fact that I was being picked up at 2:30am.....and my alarm didn't go off. So I was rudely awoken by banging on my door at 2:22am. Joyous. Was it worth it for this though?

Yes it was :o)

Creepy Crawly Bastards

Happier posts izzit? Well I'm still in paradise, Senggigi is beautiful, but paradise comes with its fun and games, the Gilis came with sand in the bed, and Senggigi has come with beg bugs. Nasty bitey little bedbugs.

I noticed the bites on my left arm this morning at breakfast. At first I cursed the mossies, but then I noticed just how many there were. I just counted and there are at least 34 trailing up my left arm.

So then I checked out my right, not so bad....only 20.

Then I checked myself over in the mirror after my shower....deary me. I have nice little nom trails all over my back and stomach. My legs SEEM to have been mercifully ignored, but maybe that's because there are too many existing mossie bites for them to find any space, plus I haven't really had good enough light to examine them properly yet. I'm sure my arse must resemble the surface of the moon.

Needless to say I checked out this morning and into a new, slightly more upmarket place. I've put almost everything I own in the laundry and had a nice scrub in the shower, feeling much much better now!!!

Apart from that I've had a lovely couple of days in Senggigi with Mul (Sometimes.....finally got his name) coming from the Gilis every day to show me around. Yesterday we had lunch at Kuta beach in the south of the island. It's totally deserted at this time of year, and yet come July and August it will be humming....what a difference a month makes. It's beautiful down there and the sand on the beach was cool, huge grains, so you sunk into it every time you tried to walk.

There was a stretch of rocks to the right and I saw a guy standing right at the end. At first I thought he might be fishing, but he kept getting up and down, when I asked it turned out he was praying, Muslims pray 5 times a day. What a lovely setting to be able to do it in. One thing I've noticed since getting to Indonesia is the regular calls to prayer from the mosques, I'm not sure I've ever heard it in the UK. It's just started as I type actually. It must be interesting for the conservative locals to be living in places like the Gilis where the westerners are all parading around in bikinis and speedos (uck). I saw one local girl wading out of the water with a full hajib (spelling?) on underneath her scuba gear.

Well, I'm off to tiger balm myself and chill out on my last day in Lombok before heading to Bali and Java over the next couple of days. Only 9 days left in Indonesia, 16 days left of my travelling.....*weep*.

See you all soon, big love xxx

Epic Trekking FAIL!!

Goodbye to the Gili's and Silver, I'm in Lombok now, and it's as beautiful as I imagined.

I've had the pleasure of seeing much of the island from the back of a motorbike courtesy of Sometimes (he still won't tell me his real name) who organised a trekking trip for me and delivered me to Senaru from where the trekking up Mount Rinjani takes place.

NB, for those immediately concerned when I mention the motorbike, it's THE mode of transport out here. I think I've mentioned before that people out here grow up, live and breathe on bikes. 3 hours either way between Senggigi and Senaru, however, is a bit much for a non-pro backseat rider....my ass is killing me!!

Many of the places we rode through never see tourists, I think most of the people arriving to trek Rinjani arrive by a different route, or in a coach with blackout windows......rich people *spit*....and so the reaction from the villagers was quite funny. Some people just stopped and watched open-mouthed as we drove past, kids were waving and shouting, and whenever we had to stop for a bemo or an errant cow in the road people on neighbouring bikes shouted hello and asked me my name and where I was from.

That was about where the joy ended......

When you ask any locals about the trekking they're totally blase about it:

'Is it difficult?'

'Nah *shrug* easy, *nod*'

'OK, 2 days, one night to see the lake?'

'yes'

'Does it get very cold?'

'Nah' *shrug* 'you need to rent warm jacket?'

'Uh.....yeah?'

When I got there I found I was actually booked for 3 days and 2 nights....hokayee. You have to do 2 nights to see the lake. Cool, I have time. So I stayed overnight in Senaru and prepared for some exercise the next day.

I woke with a sense of foreboding, it seems I have keen intuition! For a start, I wasn't prepared with the right equipment for trekking. Sure, I'd rented the warm jacket, but my bag was stupid, shoulder-slung non-waterproof stupidness. I should have had a backpack, but I couldn't heft my 35 litre up there.

Anywhoo, off I trot with my stupid bag stuffed with a couple of changes of clothes, and I meet my trekking buddies, a couple by the names of Tina and Gary (also from London). We meet our porter Dali, these guys are amazing, they go up and down the mountain every day with 2 baskets attached to a pole slung over their shoulder. The baskets contain all the food and water we need for 3 days, plus tents and sleeping bags. They do all that in flip flops, that is until the really steep part when some of them take off the flip flops and go barefoot!

For the first half an hour I thought 'Oooh, not so bad, maybe I'm fitter than I thought' (my did that come back to haunt me), and then we reached Rinjani National park. Oh...ok....so this is the beginning? Humm.

Even then....it was ok for the first couple of hours. We were in the rainforest and so protected from the sun, and it was much cooler on the mountain than it was in Senggigi.

However, it seems I'm not built for endurance. By the time we stopped for lunch I was seriously flagging. It was a long lunchbreak whiich I was grateful for, despite it taking longer than it really should have. Another porter had joined us, a young guy who called himself Musliman.....whether thats real or not I have no idea. He said he was 18 but we weren't convinced, I know the local people look deceptively young, but he can't have been much older than 16. Anywhoo, the idea is that one of the guys goes ahead and starts cooking lunch so that it's ready for when the trekkers get there (just saying that makes me cringe, it's like they're slaves), Musliman went ahead, but seemingly had not a clue what to do and so nothing had happened by the time we got there. I suspect a small organisational error too, I think Dali had all the food!

Somewhat refreshed after lunch and a break we set off on the next section of the trek, Dali and Musliman stayed behind to dry out the tents that were a little damp from the last trek. After about half an hour, at my insistence, the others pulled off as they were faster than me, so I was left completely to my own devices, luckily there was only one route up, so even someone with an internal compass as off-kilter as mine couldn't go too far wrong. But the terrain was becoming hardgoing, climbing up over tree roots etc was doing my legs in.

And then the heavens opened. They don't call it a rainforest for nuffink.

So I was stuck alone in the middle of a 2.5km stretch in the pissing rain with no shelter and not much choice other than to press on. Even if my waterproof jacket had been effective it wouldn't have saved me from this onslaught. Apart from which, it still wasn't cold, so you're sweating inside the jacket too. The trail became a waterfall and so picking the footing became fun. At first I attempted to keep my feet out of the water, but it soon became pointless and I started sloshing miserably through puddles and praying for a glimpse of POS III, the next rest point, through my bleary glasses.

Those 3 hours may have been among the most miserable of my entire life so far. It made for a lovely picture afterwards though.

Finally I arrived at POS III and found Gary and Tina who said they'd only been there 15 minutes (kindness??) and who were also soaked to the bone. The porters turned up about ten minutes later and lit a fire for a cup of tea.....laaarvely. We all started toasting our socks and shoes around the fire, we hung our socks on sticks and held them over the it. When Dali tried to put the kettle on the fire all our socks were in his way and he cried:

'TOO MANY SOCK-SATAY!!'

It makes me pee myself laughing even now when I think of it, the poor exasperated man fighting his way through wet socks to the fire. Ahh, I'm laughing again now...love it. I managed to melt the side of one of my shoes though....not so funny! I saved it before it was unsalvageable though....huzzah!! Silver lining, savour the silver lining.

Sorry....I keep looking at sock-satay and giggling. I need to write more so it disappears from the screen!

By now I was getting pretty chilly, it was ok when we were walking as we generated our own heat, but when we stopped in our soaking wet clothes it was cold. The worst thing was not having the prospect of anything dry and warm to change into. We had to hope that when we got to the campsite they could build a fire for us to dry our clothes over.

The last section was a trial, it got very steep, and the ground was very loose. I made a comment (loud complaint?) about how steep it was and Dali turned around and said:

'tomorrow very steep

'Oh yeah?'

'Yes, up to crater half hour, down to lake two hour and up the other side 3 hour, 3 hours very steep'

'Huh.....steeper than this?'

'Oh yes'

I think it was at about this point that something inside me snapped and my soul departed. I decided that I was heading down tomorrow, sod the money, I don't care, this is my hell.

We reached the campsite and helped Dali pitch my tent, Musliman was carrying the other tent and was mysteriously absent, he'd been just behind us a little while before. We found out later from another couple that he'd been sat smoking and faffing around about 400m down the slope. The couple had eventually told their porter to tell him that he should probably go and find us....seeing as he had our sleeping bags and all. I lost count of the number of times I saw Dali turn round and shout angrily down the slope at him, I can't speak the language, but I think it translated roughly to 'hurry the f**k up!!'. I changed into the only things I had that were remotely dry (hadn't had the foresight to pack alternative trousers) and went to warm my frozen toes over the fire. By now Tina and Gary had decided that they were also going down tomorrow. Gary had a nasty cut on his toe that was killing him, and so over dinner....in the dark, we told the porters that we wanted to go down tomorrow. Apart from making sure we realised that we wouldn't get any money back they didn't seem too bothered......snuggled in their warm jumpers.....gits.

I went to bed in my cold tent, cold sleeping bag and mostly dry tops, and crossed my fingers that I wouldn't die of hypothermia during the night.

Can you tell I was REALLY enjoying myself? :o)

The others wanted to go to the crater rim before heading down the next morning, that meant getting up at 4:30am to get there for sunrise. I was spent.....'wake me up when you get back'.

I woke up the next morning (silver lining?) in time to see sunrise from my tent and the comfort of my now-tepid sleeping bag. As soon as the sun came up I began trying to dry my clothes in haste for the journey down. I had success with one pair of knickers....which was kind of pointless as my trousers hadn't really dried. Breakfast was delivered to my tent, along with a cup of tea, which was rather nice. It was a surprisingly good banana pancake, and they gave me some chocolate sauce to go on top. Half an hour later they delivered another one. I think they were lightening their load for the way down.

Time for the journey down....easier right??.......Ahem.

I'm thankful for a few things on my downward journey:

1) Gravity

2) That I wasn't using the same muscles as I used for the climb up

3) The stick that I'd collected for walking on the way up

There was the familiar longing for the glimpse of a rest-point on the way down, and by the end my knees were absolutely shot. I'd slightly twisted the left one in a fall near the top of the mountain and so I was favouring the right one. By the end, my right knee had taken so much weight that it just started to give out. At one point I was walking along an almost flat section and all of a sudden I found myself in a crouching position, my knee had just totally given out.

Musliman had stuck with me at Dali's command, and encouraged me to take frequent breaks....for my benefit or his I have no idea, either way....I wasn't complaining.

So I finally made it down, huzzah!! Time for that nice easy stretch to the office that I remembered from the day before. Not so easy with 2 dodgy knees and an ache in every muscle you can imagine. Old ladies passed me in flip flops with bundles of wood slung over their shoulders......for shame. I looked about 50 years older than them, hefting myself downhill with the help of a stick. They would come up behind me and I'd move aside to let them pass, in their ever-polite Indonesian way they would gesture for me to carry on, they'd follow me down. If I'd let them I'd have ended up being followed into town by an entourage of geriatrics looking like they were getting ready to build my funeral pyre when I finally dropped dead......silly dead tourists.

I can't describe the relief when I finally hopped (shambled?) onto the back of a moto to go to the hotel. I arrived and they asked me where I was going this afternoon?

'Nowhere...I'm staying here...do you have a room? Yes? I'll take it, it's done. Show me that shower baby!' They could have charged me anything, I'd have paid it!

What an experience....I can't remember when I last sweated so much, stunk so bad or was so completely exhausted in my entire life, Nicki.....remember that horse-riding.....5 times worse!! I feel sorry for the people I gave my laundry to today. I'm also still discovering scratches, bruises and mossie bites galore.

Maybe time to join a gym when I get home, what an unwelcome demonstration of just how unfit I am.

If I ever mention that I'm thinking of climbing a mountain again......slap me!

My but that was cathartic! Happier posts to follow :o) Thanks for listening if you got this far lolz! xxx

P.S That STUPID bag is going in the bin, you should see the state of it...and it's stinking out my room. I don't think Aussie customs would even let me through with it!! Tarrah!!