Indonesia Chapter 3: Westbound, Flores and the Simple Things

Landing in Maumere in Flores, much closer to Australia but still miles away from home, the choice of which direction to travel in was much simpler. Options were east or west. But with visa limitations and consideration of an exit strategy the only viable option was to head west, exit stage Singapore.

The first thing I notice about changing locations in Indonesia is the 'vibe' of the place and the people. This is largely influenced by the location (beachside vs. jungle) and more-so by the religion. The general initial feeling about Maumere, where there is substantially more Catholic influence, was that the people were a little colder, perhaps guarded. This didn’t last long once you busted out a swift set of pearly whites and threw in a ‘selemat pagi’ or ‘siang.’ Also, the feeling of villages by the beach is, as you would expect, a lot more relaxed. As you will notice everywhere in Asia, but perhaps more so by the beach, people spend the days lazing about sleeping and, well really.. just doing nothing. ‘Ojek [motorcycle taxis]’ and ‘bemo [public minibuses]’ drivers in Indonesia are especially good at this.

Bungalow view at Maumere

Before starting west a few days were required to charge my batteries. A standalone bungalow perched at the sea fringe east of Maumere and closer to the Salor and Alor archipelagos was ideal. Apart from reading and swimming, I explored the beaches and villagers further east. Walking through palm tree plantations there is always a smiling young guy who is only ever too keen to scale a tree to fetch a coconut. Sitting in the grass, looking out over the water and sipping coconut water is probably one of the best ways to refresh after walking along the beach in the hot afternoon sun. Further east I found the small beachside village of Nagahale where they build impressive boats from traditional methods. With my limited Bahasa I was able to find out that it takes approximately 3 months and 4 rather small, but deceivingly strong, boat builders to complete one. Friendly people and smiling children, I think I would start to like this new part of Indonesia.

Catching local buses through Indonesia is an experience in itself. First you must find the bus (sometimes it finds you), negotiate your price and metaphorically buckle yourself in for the ride. If there’s no room inside then the roof or hanging from the side are acceptable places to squeeze in extra passengers. Of course there are chickens and other live goods, but not too much room for swinging cats. Loud indo-pop is always the soundtrack to any bus or bemo ride, volume set to ‘can’t quite talk but not quite yelling to the person next to you.’ The buses are always in a hurry. Horns blaring as they overtake, on the wrong side of the road around a blind corner, the pickup with 10 people in the back. The scenery is beautiful. From the window, snaking through the jungle, you can catch glimpses of the crystal blue water of the ocean imagining what a relief it would be to plunge into it. Higher up now in the hills you can see the peaks of volcanoes. Some dormant, some active.

Blue lake at Kelimutu

Kelimutu is a ‘very active’ volcano in the middle of Flores overlooking the small roadside village of Moni. Most people catch buses to near the top of the volcano for sunrise where it’s a short 20 minute walk to the viewpoint. Alternatively, and this is what I love, you can walk through villages, getting to the heart of Indonesian life. Walking this way you cross a rickety bamboo bridge by a beautiful waterfall before negotiating ‘barely there’ dirt paths pass banana palms. Of course you must leave early to arrive in time to catch the sunrise. Under the cover of darkness it’s possible to sneak past the national park ticket office, avoiding paying the entrance fee. Arriving nearly 2.5 hours later near the summit you can see the sun start to peak its head from beyond the horizon. From here you can see two amazingly colored caldera lakes: blue and brown. At the viewpoint a hoard of German tourists are taking the obligatory group photos before being herded back down the hill into their bus. Timing it so that I arrive at the viewpoint alone they pass with their walking poles, Gore-Tex jackets and other gear well overprepeared for a leisurely walk from the car park. From the summit a 3rd, deep red lake is visible. And if you make a 360 degree pan of the landscape you can see all three lakes disappearing and reappearing amongst the low clouds. Walking back down the mountain tumbling rice paddies and other farmlands are now visible. Impossible greens are highlighted by the golden, early morning light.

Places in Flores may be geographically close together but by Indonesian transport distances are much longer. Stopping overnight in Ende to break up the otherwise 15 hour journey to Bajawa from Moni was a wise decision. Finding accommodation is always easy but sometimes irritating. It seems as though as soon as places are listed in the Lonely Planet they decide that their services are second to none and as such inflate their prices accordingly. However, walking just 100 meters around the corner to a street which is not surveyed you can find much fairer priced accommodation. This is not always the case of course, some business owners don’t see dollar signs when you walk in and are more than happy to discount the room on account of your student budget. If you’re just willing to look you can always find something a bit cheaper.

Bajawa, wow! I struggle to find an adjective which accurately describes this place. For sure, a highlight of the trip so far. Nestled in amongst tropical jungle and surrounded by volcanoes it really is the definition of beautiful. Hitching a ride in a petrol tanker down the mountains to find a traditional village the scenery only became more spectacular. The driver stopping occasionally to let us take photos. After ever turn the response was, ‘Wow!’ The village of Bene showcased traditional houses and women working with traditional weaving methods. Although it was beautiful, the people yelling out across the road for us to buy a ‘ticket’ made it feel a little less authentic. With only a name, and feeling like a bit of adventure, we headed further down the mountain in search of the Malanege hot springs. 
Walking, hitching, walking, and walking. It took some time. Stopping every half an hour or so to get a local to point us in the right direction, it seemed as though we would never find it. There was absolutely no signposting for it, no maps and definitely relied on the directions from locals to find it. Eventually (some 2 hours later) we stopped by a local home where we asked the lady for the hundredth time, ‘Malanege mata air panas?’ To which she replied, ‘Mandi?’ [Mandi: Bahasa for shower] ‘Yes!’ So she showed us through her yard and out the back where we were greeted with the most amazing hot spring I have ever seen.

Malenege hot springs


Imagine. Two rivers meandering through the jungle; one hot, one cold. Then meeting at a secret place tumbling over rocks and mixing in the pool below. These are the Malanege hot springs. Sitting where the two rivers mix you can feel currents combining. Sometimes receiving a gush of slightly cooler water. It was just before dusk so the locals started arriving at the springs one-by-one for their afternoon shower. Now I was just a fly on the wall watching a very proud mother and father with their first newly born child. The father bathing her, gently pouring water over her little head. The grandfather sitting in the background watching, an air of wisdom and knowledge about him. Two young boys being teased by their uncle who kept dunking them under the water while they squealed with excitement. Watching the scene unfold I couldn’t help but smile.

Next up Chapter 4: Komodo dragons, Lombok and the Gilis