Flores 101: How, Where, and Why to Go

Flores is my Indonesia swan song – my last major trip in the archipelago nation before heading back to the U.S. I’m just barely staying true to Weekend Crossroad’s philosophy, as between its immense size and still developing infrastructure, Flores requires considerably more a long weekend to explore properly. However, those with time constraints can always choose a couple of highlights to enjoy, as illustrated in the following multi-part Flores series. Alternatively, one can choose to take an 8-10 day overland trip from Maumere to Labuan Bajo, which covers roughly two-thirds of the island.

This is Part One of Eight.

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Flores’s iconic Manggarai spider web rice paddies in Cancar Village outside of Ruteng. Having hit them just after harvest time, they are a bit brown and barren — but remarkable all the same. The unique layout stems from an ancient system of subdividing ancestral plots, ensuring equality and even more importantly, fair access to scarce water for irrigation.

Information about traveling to Flores is surprisingly scant compared with that on other popular destinations in Indonesia, and as such, I’ve included more “helpful information” information here than in most other Weekend Crossroad posts which concentrate more on itineraries and stories

Flores for me was a land of interesting opposites. Hot days and cold nights, arid moonscapes and lush tropical forests, and bright sunlit plains and mist-shrouded mountains. The island has had many evocative names throughout history, beginning with a local word for snake, derived from the island’s shape and its winding roads, and ending today with a shortened form of Cabo Das Flores, or Cape of Flowers, commemorating the initial impressions of 16th century Portuguese spice traders. Even today, many names bear witness to the island’s colonial history. Ende, for example, is a bastardization of the Dutch word Einde, as the town once demarcated the easternmost boundary of the Dutch-controlled western part of Flores.

East Nusa Tenggara province, of which Flores forms a part, is one of Indonesia’s poorest regions. Offering very few economic opportunities aside from fishing/subsistence farming and tourism, Flores is definitely among the poorest of the poor. The few cash crops of coffee, cocoa, cloves, vanilla, and cashews are shipped out in raw form, with almost no processing facilities on the island to add greater value and increase economic gains. Many families cannot even afford basic school fees, and one is immediately struck by the number of idle young men and joyfully scampering children hanging out in the streets, not to mention the plethora of graffiti (some of which is quite, er, colorful. . .)

Due to Portuguese colonialism, East Nusa Tenggara is the only predominantly Catholic province in Indonesia. Flores itself is 85% Roman Catholic, with the remaining  Muslim minority originally hailing from Sumba and Sulawesi and primarily settled along the coastline. Indeed, if training missionaries were an economic activity, this would be a significant contributor to the island’s income.  What I found most interesting, however, was how easily traditional beliefs (from animal sacrifice to spiritual healing) were interwoven with the newer faith systems – and how readily this was accepted all around. Is tradition the magic thread that has kept Flores as one of the few areas in Indonesia never to experience religious tensions? (A fact to which my guide frequently and proudly referred – and rightly so!)

This is especially interesting in light of the fact that Flores and its people are, by nature, divided. Anthropologists believe that the line of both active and extinct volcanoes traversing the island led to the creation of pockets of distinct cultures.  Today, there are five primary ethnic/linguistic groups in Flores, unified by the national language of Bahasa Indonesia. In my 10-day journey, I was fortunate to interact with four of these groups:

  • the Manggarai (West Flores)

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    Woman and child pick coffee on a plantation in Wae Rebo Village.

Best known for their striking spider rice paddies (which can still be found near Ruteng), the Manggarai maintain a strong focus on unity, which is reflected in everything from their circular architecture and village layout to strong, enduring clan bonds. The Manggarai believe that their ancestors hailed from Sumatra.

  • the Ngada (Bajawa and environs)

    A woman watches passers by in Bena Village.

Unlike most social groups in Indonesia, the Ngada are matrilineal, meaning that children are considered to be members of their mother’s clan. Ancient Ngada society was organized according to strict hierarchical classes, and their village houses are set up in two parallel lines.

  • the Lio (Ende and environs)

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    Boat motif  at the entrance of the house of of the mosalaki, or clan leader.

The Lio remain some of Flores’ most spiritual / superstitious people, with a strong belief in good and bad spirits, and a vibrant afterlife. (Today, these practices have been incorporated into broader Muslim / Catholic beliefs.) Believing that their ancestors hailed from India, the Lio prominently feature boat symbols in their architecture and weaving to commemorate their long journey.

  • the Sikka (Maumere, Central Flores)

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    Karolina, a Watublapi village elder, inducts me into the ways of her people, dressing me in the  traditional outfit for a middle-aged woman.

Renowned for their intricate ikat weaving (I definitely fell under the spell and walked out of Watublapi Village with more than I entered with!), the Sikka today are divided into two main groups – the Tana ‘Ai and the Sikka-Krowe, through historically they were much more loosely structured than other ethnic groups in Flores. The Sikka-Krowe historically had the most interaction with foreign, er, visitors? invaders? conquerors? and were among the earliest people to convert to Catholicism under the Portuguese.

TRAVEL TIPS

How to Get There

  • By Plane:

Screen Shot 2015-06-02 at 10.57.11 PMDenpasar Bali’s Nugrah Rai Airport is probably the easiest launching point for Flores, where tiny propeller planes (often on rather dubious budget airlines) land several times a day in both Labuan Bajo (1 hour flight) and Maumere (1 hour 45 minutes flight). As of this writing, Garuda also offers limited flights to Labuan Bajo, but at a significantly steeper cost.  Intra island flights also stop at Ende, Bajawa, Ruteng and Larantuka.

  • By Sea:

A number of operators offer tourist boat trips to Flores from Bali and Lombok. It is critical to go with a recommended provider as some boats have dubious safety records and don’t even have basic equipment like life jackets or radios.

  • By Bus/Ferry

Screen Shot 2015-06-02 at 10.58.24 PM Those seeking a real adventure can take a 2-3 day bus/ferry trip from Bali to Labuan Bajo, but this is not a recommended option – particularly when the seas are choppy.

When to Go

Given the generally poor state of infrastructure and the significant amount of trekking required to reach some of the island’s most stunning attractions, travel during the dry season (April-October) is typically best. Note that those traveling towards the end of the season will be greeted with an arid, almost desert-like climate/atmosphere and a lot of dust!

What to Bring (besides the obvious!)

  • Cash You can easily stock up at ATMs/money changers in larger towns like Labuan Bajo, Maumere, Ende and Ruteng – however, smaller towns often don’t have ATMs that accept international cards, and outside of Labuan Bajo it is nearly impossible to use a credit or debit card for purchases. Even if you’re on an “all inclusive” package, extra cash for souvenirs and additional food and beverages is always good to have on hand.
  • Warm Clothing (waterproof jacket, sweatshirts/sweaters, and long pants)  Having been lulled into a false sense of complacency by other so-called “cold places” I’ve visited in Indonesia (Mount Bromo, Lake Toba, etc.) where I definitely overpacked/dressed, I was dismayed to realize just how cold some parts of Flores can get at night. (I could even see my breath in Bajawa, whose temperatures sank to a less-than-balmy 11 degrees centigrade at night.)
  • Extra Clothing and/or Items That Dry Quickly  I generally advocate travelling light. In Flores, however, unless you’re lucky enough to travel at a leisurely pace, you will likely not stay more than a night at any destination. With many stops dropping to practically frigid temperatures, you will not have adequate time to dry your laundry before taking off. And between high temperatures during the day and creepy-crawlies at night, trust me that you will want to change your clothing frequently!
  • Camping-esque Supplies  For long stretches of time, you will find yourself in a literal wilderness without easy access to food, potable water, electricity, and phone/data signal. Not to mention toilets. A good guide will pace your stops out for supply runs of food and snacks (and bathroom breaks!), and in my experience this is one instance where it is better to overestimate your need for drinking water than underestimate. Toilet paper/tissues/wet wipes also come in extremely handy (though traveling anywhere in Asia this should be a given!) Most hotels do not offer shampoo, and some don’t even offer soap, meaning that a toiletry kit is essential. A “power bank” for charging electronics on long electricity-less stretches plus a car adapter for mobile phone charging can be a godsend. And a flashlight is essential for navigating unlit roads/paths, as well as reading after the electricity generators are shut off at 10pm aboard boats and in more remote locations such as Wae Rebo.
  • A Sarong and/or Towel (or pick one up along the way)  If you are really going off the beaten path and staying one of the many traditional villages which offer rustic homestay options, you may find yourself faced with communal or open bathing situations where modesty coverings are a must. I also recommend packing more than one swim suit – again due to the slow drying time – as it is especially nasty (in my opinion) to squelch around in a wet bathing suit.
  • Entertainment  Happily I had downloaded a bunch of podcasts and TV shows prior to leaving Jakarta, and brought along three books, which I continuously swapped out at various tourists stops along the way when I had finished reading them. There is a LOT of down time in Flores – not a bad thing in the slightest – but unlike other areas, with no book stores and weak wifi signals (assuming wifi is available at all), you’re basically stuck with what you bring. Zoning out to my favorite music and NPR’s “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” helped me deal with the worst of both car and sea sickness (though happily for the most parts the waters were extremely calm.)

Getting Around:

  • Allow Extra Time Cushions

One of the most challenging things to do is to determine how long it will take to get from Point A to Point B. Any GPS-based map or navigation estimate is completely useless as it will fail to take into account the state of some of the more remote roads, the extra distance required to snake one’s way across winding mountain roads, the reality that landslides can cause sudden road closures, and the fact that you will frequently have to slow down to a crawl whenever two vehicles are simultaneously navigating the narrow roads.

  • Consider Hiring the Same Guide and/or Driver for the Length of your Stay

While I typically avoid tour operators like the plague, travelling solo in Flores, it seemed to me to be the most practical option. On the road (literally!) I met numerous adventurous types braving the treacherous, steep, pitted and curving mountain roads on scooter, as well as a few even braver souls endeavoring to make the journey by bus. But no other solo travellers.  Most people, even more seasoned adventure travelers, elected to go the same route as I. It was definitely considerably more expensive to have both a guide and a driver, but worth it for the hassles and headaches I saved. It was also nice being able to set my own pace (quite literally on the 10 km uphill trek to Wae Rebo village!) and make last minute itinerary changes based on my interests or external environmental factors.

  • Navigate Labuan Bajo on Your Own

In Labuan Bajo, if you are not staying in the city center, it is easy enough to flag down a car or a motorcycle for a quick local ride, or to arrange a driver for day / overnight trips. Most hotels also offer free rides to the airport. Maumere, Bajawa and other “major” cities have local drivers willing to negotiate a set fee for day trips, as well as motorbike rental.

  • Motorbike Tips

Those hoping to rent a motorbike in Labuan Bajo for their self-guided overland adventure should know that only experienced bikers should take this option – and never ride alone. Also, due to a rising incidence of tourists abandoning their rented bikes (e.g., leaving them in Maumere rather than returning them to Labuan Bajo), there are fewer and fewer rental places, and those that remain can often have a waiting list for days. (Even the best plans are frequently waylaid in Flores, so rental operators seldom ask for a fixed “return by” date.) Prices also seem to change at random – one place offering motorbikes for IDR 50,000/day one week would accept no less than IDR 65,000 the next. Finally, note that a 100 cc engine is fine for local joyriding but will not be able to handle the steep mountain roads. Gas stations can be oddly spaced out, but little mom and pop operations sell gas by the liter out of old mineral water bottles. (Note that some less scrupulous vendors have been known to mix water into the petrol – never a pleasant outcome.)   While road signs are abysmal to non-existent –the locals are very friendly and welcoming and generally will point you in (roughly) the right direction.

Food: A Resounding “Meh”

With visions of Macanese-style Portuguese-Chinese fusion cuisine in mind (to this day I firmly believe that the pork chop bun is one of the best snacks of all time), I was eager to sample the delights of Flores cuisine, which I imagined to be the best of Indonesia, Portugal, and Holland on a plate. And, I was soon disavowed of this notion. In Flores, I consumed some of the least palatable food I’ve eaten in all of Indonesia. Didn’t think it was possible to mess up nasi goreng? Neither did I. Until I came to Flores.   Bafflingly, few of the restaurants deemed hygienic enough for tourists serve local fare – instead they offer various takes on the same tired menus – fried rice, fried noodles, fried chicken and pseudo-Chinese style seafood and vegetable dishes. The notable exception was Lucas Café, a restaurant in Bajawa where I gluttonously devoured pork satay and mixed tofu and tempe in fresh tomato sauce – both local specialties that were absolutely delicious.

The best local food I had outside of Lucas Café was in the most unexpected places – a fresh fish grill on one of the 17 Islands, simple home-cooked fare on my overnight Komodo/Rinca boat, and a simple but tasty communal village meal in Wae Rebo.

By the time I arrived in Labuan Bajo I was ecstatic to discover some of the best pizza I’ve eaten in Indonesia at the aptly-named MadeInItaly, and a lovely barracuda carpaccio at its neighbor and rival, Mediterraneo. After a week of drinking instant coffee – an unforgivable sin in my book in one of Indonesia’s most renowned coffee-growing regions – I was almost brought to tears upon stumbling into Café In Hit, which offers not only first rate espresso-based drinks, but even more importantly, a free book exchange which serves as my lifeline as I found myself stranded for 3 additional days due to the unexpected eruption of Mount Raung in East Java and resulting airport closures. I even managed to find a decent burger (my best cure for homesickness) at the Lounge and enjoy coffee with a view at Cucina. (Having this unexpectedly elongated stay in Labuan Bajo, I had ample time to eat my way through the small downtown strip!)

Accommodation: “Expensively Rustic”

Having stayed at perfectly lovely hotels across Java for less than US$30/night – we’re talking clean linens, a/c, hot water, the works – I experienced significant sticker shock in Flores. This was not too big a deal, until I found myself faced with the prospect of being stuck in Labuan Bajo for an unplanned (and unbudgeted!) extended stay due to flight cancellations across the entire region (East Java, Bali, Lombok, and Flores). Thanks for nothing, Mount Raung! You just HAD to erupt now. . . I managed to plead my 3 star hotel in Labuan Bajo down to IDR 700.000 a night (half the rack rate), but still could feel the dollar signs adding up. Though pricey, at least these accommodations were pleasant.

Elsewhere in Flores, I found myself facing cold water showers even in frigid temperatures, and being eaten alive by mosquitoes. Riung was the worst of the lot.   (Well, I guess technically Wae Rebo was worse – but it was so charming that nobody cared!) But with the right expectations and a good sense of adventure, it’s still an unforgettable journey. And most travelers recommend ending your journey in Labuan Bajo, where decent (if pricey) lodging and good food abound.

But when all is said and done, you most certainly have an unforgettable trip ahead of you – and I highly recommend the journey. More details on specific destinations in Flores to follow soon!

Continue on to part two here.

 

Malta: A Tiny Slice of Heaven at the Crossroads of Culture

I’ve mentioned in other posts that my trip to Malta sprang from one of my core travel philosophies – if you know someone in an interesting, far away place that you might never otherwise have occasion to visit, pack your bags and go for it. October, 2007 was an interesting time to be in the archipelago nation. (Rather than being a single island as is commonly believed, Malta is actually comprised of three inhabited islands and a number of smaller, rocky outcrops). The country was frantically preparing for further assimilation into the EU, with unmanned Schengen immigration counters already set up at the Malta International Airport, and a countdown clock by Valetta’s City Gate marking the days, hours, and minutes until the Euro would be officially adopted. (Frankly, I was delighted to still be able to use the Maltese lira!) Note that this adventure is eight years old – but general itinerary items should still be doable!

As my plane descends, I find myself faced with scenery unlike any I’ve ever seen before. Yellow walls and grey walks rocks with only the slightest hint of scrubby vegetation extend as far as the eye can see.   The sea is a beautiful and almost mysterious shade of deep blue. And I can see the entire island nation from the sky!

Theme I: A Tale of Two Cities

Mdina

As the only person with Asian features in the airport I am highly amused by the fact that I spot my friends Greg and Marco – who look almost exactly like everyone else – before they see me. A diplomat well-versed in the perils of jet lag, Marco sits firmly in the “fight through it” camp.   Plunking my luggage in the trunk, he heads straight for Mdina, the Silent City.

Almost entirely carless, Mdina is the perfect place to lose yourself, meandering through narrow alleys for a couple of hours. We briefly pop into St. Paul’s Cathedral, built on the spot where then governor and now Maltese saint Publius allegedly met St. Paul after he was shipwrecked on Malta. We also visit Palazzo Falson, a wonderfully preserved medieval palace. Noting that I am flagging after a couple of hours soaking up the admittedly marvelous atmosphere, he marches our trio to a small café, where we met up with some of their friends. (I discover throughout the trip that it is almost impossible to go anywhere on the island without bumping into at least one person you know!)

Dining at home with Greg, Marco, and some of their friends, I alternate devoting all of my energy trying not to fall asleep on my plate with peppering the local Maltese experts with all sorts of questions about the seemingly impossible, consonant-filled Maltese language, and the intersection of Arab, Roman, and English cultures.

Valetta

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Maltese buses! If you watch the movie Munich, you’ll notice these buses in the background in “Jerusalem” and “Rome”

The next morning, Greg and I hop on a wonderfully quaint orange Malta bus (sadly but perhaps practically discontinued in 2011) to Valetta.  Our first stop is St. John’s Co-Cathedral, quite possibly the most beautiful and ornate house of worship I have ever seen. And that is really saying something given my lifetime of travel across the globe.

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My little “point and shoot” camera does not do this amazing architectural work of art justice. . .

I am surprised to discover that I am absolutely FASCINATED by the Knights of Malta – or more accurately, the Sovereign Hospitaller Order of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta. One of the reasons that the church is so over-the-top amazing is that each group of knights tried to outdo the next through ever expanding contributions. The talented but hot-headed Caravaggio also had a rather checkered history on the island.

 

We head to Valetta’s Church of Saint Paul’s Shipwreck (I’m learning that this maritime disaster is a BIG deal in Malta!). While there is no comparison from a grand aesthetic/architectural point of view – it’s a truly lovely example of traditional Maltese baroque architecture and is both calm and inviting.

We stroll through the Upper Barrakka Gardens where we enjoy stunning panoramic views of the Grand Harbor. Greg jokes that we have missed the Saluting Battery, and says that for some reason he always seems to arrive minutes too late. While it would have been cool to see, I must admit that I greatly enjoy the peace.

We end the day browsing among local artisans making filigree jewelry on Republic street – and being me, I can’t resist picking up a pair of silver earrings to adorn myself and commemorate the trip.

Theme II: Megalithic Marvels

The Hypogeum of Ħal-Saflieni (severe claustrophobes beware)

Greg and Marco are good friends and have booked my admission to the Hypogeum of Ħal-Saflieni in advance (a MUST as daily admissions are strictly limited to reduce the impact on the fragile environment). The aptly-named Hypogeum (Greek for underground) is at once incredibly cool (both literally and figuratively!) and somewhat creepy (it is a necropolis after all!) While it is not known exactly when the structure was built, historians’ estimates range from 4000-3000 BC. The tour is a bit rushed, but certainly interesting – particularly when you consider how old it is! While I am generally not one for random knickknacks, something about the prone image of the rotund and wonderfully detailed Sleeping Lady of Ħal-Saflieni speaks to me, and I pick up a replica at the gift shop.

Megalithic Temple

230427_8032117535_4427_nWe begin at the Tarxien temples, site of 4 temples built between 3600 and 2500 BC. Marco explains that as a child he and his friends would play among the giant “rocks” without realizing their historic significance. I am amazed at how well preserved some of the relief sculptures are, given their age. Our special next stop is Hagar Qim “Close your eyes,” said Marco with a gleam in his eye. Gently taking me by the shoulders, he guides me to a nondescript rock. Bending my knees down to “just the right angle,” he explains that this was the exact vantage point that a renowned National Geographic photographer chose to capture the UNESCO World Heritage Sites, in all its glory. (Note, some of the megalithic temple sites have been closed for renovation at various times over the past few years, so do comprehensive research first to avoid disappointment!) At the temple site of Mnajdra, my friend Greg proudly poses for me to provide perspective – either he is really tall (which he isn’t. . .) or, more accurately, the megalithic peoples were vertically challenged! It is humbling to realize the lasting accomplishments of these long-gone civilizations from millennia ago, and one can’t help but wonder what, if any, impact we will leave for the future.

Theme III: Color in Nature

230222_8032097535_3471_nI mentioned being struck by colors at the beginning of this post – and indeed, my sensory exploration continued during the latter part of my trip. The Blue Grotto, a sea cave on the southern coast of Malta, was one such place. Now while one might im225702_8031917535_6475_nagine the water itself to provide the luminescent blue tinge, but it is in fact the pure white sand that lends the area its unique hue. And it’s not just the water. The cave itself is home to a veritable rainbow of colors – from bright mineral yellows and oranges to deep purples, and a variety of submerged fauna.

Ghajn TuffiehaWe end the day with some relaxation at Għajn Tuffieħa beach, a quiet beach and steep hike down to a crescent shaped promontory that is TOTALLY worth it – especially at sunset. Enjoying our relaxed states, we proceed to an outdoor restaurant at The Three Cities to enjoy first hand Malta’s maritime history coming to life.

Believe it or not I never made it to Gozo, a much less developed island that is renowned for its own charms. No worries though – it provides me an EXCELLENT reason to return. . .

Lake Toba: Relaxation and A Tale of Two Beginnings

At the first glimpse of Lake Toba on the winding road to Parapat, one can be forgiven for momentary confusion — is this Indonesia or Switzerland?! Dark blue waters, green hills, and an assortment of church steeples (the Bataks indigenous to the area are predominantly Christian) greet the eye.  Upon reaching the ferry port at Parapat, however, you are undisputedly in Indonesia, with motor bikes, Padang canteens, and a warm and friendly chaos taking over your senses.

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Shameless ferry selfie

I am drawn to the region after no fewer than four jungle excursions in the past month, and look forward to relaxing in a more temperate climate for first time in months.

There is no dearth of accommodation in Tuk Tuk, the main tourist area on Samosir Island — an “Island within in Island” located about an hour’s ferry ride from Parapat.  I’ve chosen the quirky and slightly more upscale Horas Family Home, where I am regaled by stories by the garrulous owner, indulge in not only home cooked, but also home grown/raised food (TOP RATE!!!), and float aimlessly on the lake.  I also enjoy hot showers and access to my own fridge — luxuries I will never take for granted again.

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There are many ways to grill a fish — Scenes from the Horas Family Home Fish Barbecue

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Nature’s spotlight — sun shines through the rain on a late afternoon on Lake Toba

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Paddleboarder and Fisherman cross paths along the southeastern bank of Samosir Island.

This turns out to be a good choice, for even though it is officially the beginning of the dry season in Northern Sumatra — Mother Nature has other plans.  I find the nightly rain drumming on the roof to be very soothing, but with the occasional afternoon squall, I also find myself grateful that there are not many more things to do in Lake Toba than relax.

On my first full day (coincidentally also the driest) I decide to venture out and explore the island.  A walk around Tuk Tuk takes about an hour — but 15 minutes in I cave to the heat and decide to rent a motor bike and helmet (at, I might add, twice the rate of bikes in Lombok!)  With only the most rudimentary of maps, and an occasionally confused Waze / Google Maps GPS combo, I venture out in search of the renowned “Ambarita Stone Chairs.”

While the Romans had thumbs up or thumbs down to determine gladiatorial fate, the pre-Christian Bataks had the stone chairs where they held council.  Whenever an enemy was captured or a local was accused of some misdeed, the elders would invite the rulers of neighboring villages to convene and determine the fate of the victim.  If deemed guilty, the poor soul would be rubbed with garlic and chilli, beheaded, and, er, savored.  (If you are “lucky” you can be selected as part of a “live demonstration” on site.) 

This sounded cool, if somewhat macabre.  I head in the general direction over some seriously steep and rocky roads, and quickly find myself spinning in circles thanks to Waze taking me off course.  (Asking for help is surprisingly useless, even in Indonesian.  For every person who told me to turn left — another would tell me to turn right.).  FINALLY I spot signs for “Famous Ambarita Stone Chairs”, and after parking the motorbike in a shady spot, dutifully sign the registration log and make an IDR 10,000 “donation.”

IMG_4278Climbing a steep, mossy (read, slippery!) staircase carved into the rocky outcrop, I snap pictures of the Batak statues and carvings along the way.   Upon reaching the top, I see no stone chairs in sight.  Could I have missed them?  Carefully making my way down again, I see a miniature set of stone chairs that could have comfortably seated a Council of Elders — were such council comprised of children or dolls.  And this looks NOTHING like the photos I’ve seen online.

IMG_4299 Feeling duped (but also feeling too foolish to confront the man at the registration hut), I get back on the bike and decide to wander a bit further.  Down the road, I see signs for “Huta Siallagan” — the ACTUAL stone chairs.  They are certainly more to scale, and an impressive sight to behold, but the fake Batak village and souvenir market somehow cheapen the overall experience.  So I find my earlier irritation fading, especially considering that as part of my earlier “donation” I was given a rather cute carved keychain as a souvenir.

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The not-so-real miniature stone chairs.

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The much more reasonably-sized stone chairs.

I gained three key takeaways from this little adventure (misadventure?).  First, given that this was the historical highlight of Samosir, I would not feel guilty for spending the rest of my stay taking in the scenery at my own, VERY SLOW pace.
Second, even though one was officially a mistake, I was quite happy to appreciate the two different sites from an aesthetic perspective, especially when not ascribing any particular historical importance to either. Third and most importantly, I realized that it was the story, more than the site, that appealed to me.  One of my favorite pastimes is to collect folk and fairy tales from around the world.  So, over the next sleepy couple of days in Lake Toba, I greatly enjoyed learning two tales of creation behind this very special place.

Version 1:  The Batak Legend of Samosir

Once upon a time, there was a young farmer named Toba. He lived in a fertile valley and while by far not a rich man, he was able to support himself by growing crops.

One day, Toba awoke with a craving for fish, and headed to a nearby river with his fishing pole in tow. The river was usually teeming with fish, but on that strange day, not a single one was in sight.  Just as he was preparing to leave (with great disappointment) he snared a big fish. As he slowly reeled it in, he was surprised to hear a voice pleading with him to let the fish go.  Looking around, he saw no one.  He then realized that the fish itself was speaking to him. 

Astounded, Toba released the fish back into the river.  Suddenly the fish transformed into beautiful young woman. The woman explained that she was actually a princess who had been cursed to live out her life as a fish. In gratitude to the young farmer for breaking her curse, the princess  said that she would happily become his wife under one condition — he must never tell a soul about her previous life as a fish.  If he did not heed this condition, she warned, a terrible tragedy would befall him. 

Toba and the princess were happily married, and soon after she gave birth to a baby boy, whom they named Samosir. Samosir had a tremendous appetite. In a perpetual state of hunger, he would devour all the food on the table without leaving his parents a single morsel to eat.

One day, Samosir was sent to bring food to his father who was busy working in the fields. Absentmindedly he began nibbling at the delicious meal that his mother had packed.  Toba was both famished and tired after a hard day’s work, but discovered that was no food left for him to eat. In a fit of rage, he lashed out at the boy, calling him a son of a fish.

Crying, Samosir ran home and asked his mother if he really was a son of a fish. Shocked and saddened, the princess told the boy to climb the to the top of the tallest tree on the hill behind their home.  Hurrying to the river bank where she and Toba first met, the princess suddenly disappeared.

The sky turned black as night, and thunder, lightning and heavy rain besieged the valley, causing a great flood.  The water levels continued to rise until the valley was no more — it had turned into a large lake.  The hill became an island, named after its sole survivor, Samosir.  Legend has it that Samosir is the father of the Batak people of North Sumatra.  Toba, the harbinger of disaster, is commemorated by the lake which today bears his name.  Of the princess, sadly, nothing remains. 

Version 2:  Science Stuff

Lake Toba and Samosir Island were formed after the eruption of a supervolcano some 75,000 years ago.  Due to its unique topology, Samosir is quite possibly the only place in the world where you can both stand on an island on an island (The island of Samosir in Lake Toba on the Island of Sumatra) and swim in a lake on a lake (Lake Sidihoni on Samosir on Lake Toba)

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Quick Facts

  • Lake Toba is the largest volcanic lake in the world, and is one of approximately 20 recognized “supervolcanoes” in the world.
  • The lake was formed after a massive eruption approximately 74,000 years ago, believed by scientists to be the largest volcanic eruption of the past 2.5 million years
  • Ash from the eruption has been found as far away as Lake Malawi, Africa
  • The Toba Catastrophe Theory posits that the last eruption was so severe that it led to an ice age, and wiped out most of our prehistoric ancestors in everywhere but Africa, creating a “genetic bottleneck” explaining the origins of the human race stemming from that continent.
  • However, the above theory is being increasingly discredited as new science comes to light
  • The North-South Sumatra fault line, which bisects Sumatra, runs through Mount Toba.
  • In theory, any activity along this fault line could trigger another Toba eruption.
  • Samosir is the largest island on an island, and the fifth largest lake island in the world
  • Samosir was originally a peninsula, connected to mainland Sumatra by a small isthmus

I think both versions are pretty interesting — which one do you prefer?

Kranji, the Wild West in Singapore

When I think of the Wild West two things spring to mind: the tiny period of American history that has somehow been blown up to be a cinematic staple … or the awful Will Smith film. You know the one: not funny, with the terrible CGI spidery thing, from back when Mr. Smith was a bankable star. Anyway, I digress.  I certainly do not think of Singapore. Yet recently I found myself chugging along on a bus to what is billed as the Wild West of Singapore – Kranji.

Now if you go to Kranji, leave the notion that this is some kind of remote outlawed land on your breakfast table. This is Singapore after all. There is no such thing as remote land. However, if you are in the mood to try something a little different and maybe see another side of Singapore that isn’t all Boat Quay and Orchard Road, then there are some things to recommend.

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Kranji Reservoir is much more than a beautiful vista. It is also a key source of water. Photo courtesy of PUB, Singapore’s National Water Agency.

Kranji countryside is essentially a farmland area in the Northwestern reservoirs of Singapore that is an MRT and bus ride away.  The bus, which only services the Kranji area, stops off at the six farmlands that participate in the Kranji Countryside Association.

“What does this mean?!?” I hear you scream. The association is essentially a collection of farms that welcome visitors and are accessible via this bus. While it says online that most of the other farms in the area do not receive guests, signs you pass along the way say otherwise. So I really think it depends.

If you only have time to visit one farm, I strongly recommend Bollywood Veggies.

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Does the warrior attack the platter? Or does the platter attack the warrior?

Bollywood Veggies is a truly wonderful place. Their farmland is beautiful and allows for a very interesting and educational tour of all the things they grow. There is also a fantastic café in the middle.  (Try a glorious dish called the “Warriors Platter” and their particularly good banana cake.) If you are lucky and it is not too busy, Dillon, one of the owners, will dust off his guitar and play any song you could possibly think of. We could not recommend this place more highly.

There are a couple of key things to consider before embarking on this trip.  First, the bus only comes every hour-and-a-half, so once you get dropped off at a particular farm, you are stuck there for a good while. This is not so bad if you plan carefully. But be warned: some stops are far more interesting than the others. The goat farm left a lot to be desired, bar the fresh milk which is highly recommended. (Bring a cooler and a book, perhaps?)  The bullfrog breeding farm was OK, but did very much feel like the end of the line.

Second, the fact that you are tied to the bus stops means getting to other parts of the area can be difficult. We were told the fish farm in the southern part of Kranji is beautiful and truly worth visiting, but without one’s own transport it is a no go. Note to the Association: bike hire is the way forward because the area really feels like a different country.  In the meantime, for other business travelers, Uber is always a good option.

Kranji countryside is definitely worth the trip if you plan carefully — especially for those who are tired of the urban jungle.  Weekend Crossroad’s recommended itinerary:

Begin with a midmorning visit to the Kranji War Memorial, billed as the largest of its kind in Asia.  Next, catch the bus in time for a leisurely lunch at Bollywood Veggies.  Finally, end your visit at the Kranji wetlands (the last stop on the bus route before the MRT). Even to locals who “know” Singapore, Kranji feels like a totally different world.  Moreover, it proves that if you lift the lid on this city-state, you can find something truly unique.

A Culinary Tour of Laos in Luang Prabang

Simply put, Laotian food is amazing.  There is a lot of national pride around the nation’s culinary heritage, and a combination of gratification and resentment that Thai cuisine has apparently “borrowed” a number of the area’s most renowned dishes. (Both the Lao and the Thai people are descended from a broader diaspora of Tai peoples whose reach extends from India to China, as well as Southeast Asia.  So perhaps we can call a truce and deem it a shared heritage. . .)

Now, there are two ways to experience Lao cuisine.  The first is the safe route, sticking to well-known staples such as:

  • Sticky rice (which comes in white, brown or purple varieties)
  • Laap, a spicy, minty salad of marinated minced buffalo, chicken, pork or fish (sometimes served raw so the more cautious explorer will do well to ask in advance)
  • Tangy papaya salad
  • Any combination of amazing dips, or jaew, which range from the almost salsa-like jaew mak len and eggplant-based  jaew mak khua to the more adventurous but equally delicious jaew bong, a chili paste whose special ingredient is, of all things, buffalo skin.  These dips are served with rice crackers and dried river weed (which may sound unappetizing at first but is little different from seaweed at the end of the day)
  • Local meatballs and sausage;
  • Various stir fried greens – some of which you would have never imagined eating — but are delicious nonetheless.

The second is what I like to call the “Anthony Bourdain on crack” approach.  (You can view the episode on his visit to the Land of a Million Elephants below — though apparently not in all markets.  Vientiane — check.  Jakarta — check.  Auckland — fail.)

IMG_3681This is the approach advocated by my friend Jason, who is not only a craft beer and whiskey/whisky aficionado  (I never asked him if he’s an Irish or Scotch man), but also one of the most adventurous eaters I have ever met.  So it is with great glee that he comes across Tamarind‘s Adventurous Lao Gourmet degustation menu.  (As readers of this blog are likely aware, degustation means tasting in French.  Finicky eaters will undoubtedly think of this more as a “disgusting” menu, and should opt for some of Tamarind’s tamer dishes.)   For someone like me, who definitely draws a firm line between food and insects, it is still worth a try (barely!)  For someone like Jason and his good sport better half Erin, it is a must do.  (Rubbing his belly after the feast, Jason proclaimed that he could “go home” now because he’d reached the apex of his trip.)

For around US$ 25 apiece, we got to sample over 20 different dishes — beginning with banana-flavored lao lao, a traditional spirit distilled from rice, and ending with a dessert platter and coffee or tea.  Value for money doesn’t even begin to describe the experience.

Round 1:  Aperitifs

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Erin did this JUST to mess with me. Hope the bug liked the banana lao lao!

We whet our appetites with shots of banana lao lao (which the Lao call whisky, and we call moonshine).  We are also offered refreshing ginger and lemongrass drinks, and I spice things up (literally!) with an absolutely amazing watermelon chili granita.  Then the adventure really begins.

Round 2:  Vegetable Platter (which comes with extra protein)

The first food round really tests our mettle — nestled among 8 dishes is stir fried water bug.  I would have been up for the challenge (the chopped up bug bits look like mushrooms).  But — Tamarind “helpfully” wants to remind you of what you are eating — and a giant water bug proudly sits on top of the platter.  I’m not particularly squeamish about bugs, but roaches are my Kryptonite.  And, unfortunately, the water bug looks like the world’s biggest cockroach.  (Water bugs are actually a kind of scorpion, but the eyes see what the eyes want to see!)  Like a malevolent Mona Lisa, its baleful eyes seem to follow my every move, and I begin to feel slightly queasy.  (To be fair, this could very possibly be attributed to the street-side BBQ chicken that I’d enjoyed earlier in the day — but I prefer to blame the bug.)

I admit it, I COMPLETELY wimp out.  I happily eat AROUND the bug dish, while Jason and his wife Erin bravely dig in.  Unexpectedly, it’s the chili — not the bugs — that almost does them in.  (Jason’s theory is that Tamarind’s chef amps up the spice levels so people don’t feel guilty about not finishing their portion.  Erin figures if your mouth is numb you can’t taste the bug.)  Either way, despite their most valiant efforts, neither of them can manage more than a couple of bites.

On the platter we also enjoy banana flower with bamboo shoots, sauteed ferns (which tastes much better than in sounds!) a medley of steamed vegetables including mushrooms, mustard greens, and a Southeast Asian specialty called “pea eggplant” which resembles overgrown capers.  We also sample a sour plum-based puree, as well as rice crackers boiled with ginger and sugar.  In true Lao fashion, we make miniature sticky rice balls with our fingers and dip these into the platter, using our thumbs to scoop up bite-sized portions of food.

Round 3:  Protein Platter

So, the secret protein on this platter was beetle larvae.  With memories of my roach nemesis still fresh in my mind, I steer clear of these.  Due to a shellfish allergy I avoid the fragrant baby shrimp cooked in lemongrass and chili and the miniature crabs (which Erin finds more difficult to eat than the beetles, and even crunchier.)  I like the buffalo meatballs, am ambivalent about the riverweed powder (it resembles matcha toasted with ginger and garlic, and I can’t help but think it would wonderful with Japanese pickled plum).  I think about my Chinese mother as I sample sweet pork floss, and avoid the fermented fish (which is basically Lao gefilte-fish) and the sour pork and pigskin wrapped in a banana leaf.  Food coma is clearly beginning to set in, because at this stage at the meal I scribble even more illegibly that usual (the last dish on the platter appears to have been some sort of fish and shrimp in a banana leaf. . .)

Round 4:  Soups

We are presented with two soups — snake soup (yup, it really does taste like chicken — chicken with tiny, tiny bones)  Lao people traditional eat the snake skin — we find that we are not Lao in this regard.  And ant egg soup.  Ant egg omelets  — Jason’s primary quest grace a Mr. Bourdain — are seasonal – and he is disappointed to learn that the eggs are too small at this time of year.  But we all enjoy the soup — the eggs look like rice granules (I see an excellent prank coming up!)  But again — fiery hot spice levels.

Round 5:  Fish

This tiny catfish (we never knew that they came this small!) delicately seasoned with lemongrass, fish sauce and chili is absolutely scrumptious.  However, we are so full that we can only enjoy a couple of bites.  The next day we would see massive bins of these fish at the morning market, squirming around like eels.

Round 6:   Flowers

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This dish is basically mushy and extremely bitter, and is not a particular hit with any of us.  However, the presentation was interesting, and we remind ourselves that even though we are not fans, bitterness is a highly prized flavor in Lao cooking.   (Along with salty and sour, bitterness forms a taste profile trifecta in the cuisine.)  We are far more interested in the so-called “earring fruit” that accompanies the dish.  (Lao food-naming conventions are VERY creative, as you will continue to see. . .)

Round 7:  Dessert

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We have no idea how we are going to eat dessert, but what they say must be true — dessert goes into another part of the stomach.  So we shift on our seats and make some room to feast on purple sticky rice boiled coconut milk and flavored with coconut tamarind sauce (which is so delicious that I buy a jar to take home with me.)  We also tuck into pumpkin custard steamed in the rind,  In an effort to be Lao, we attempt to gnaw on the tough exterior which elicits a chuckle from the restaurant manager — Lao eat ALMOST everything, but not that.  Finally, rice powder and coconut skewers,  a delicious cookie made from rice powder and palm sugar known rather appetizingly as “cat poo”, and a brittle-like cracker of sesame and peanuts.  I am not usually a fan of coconut, but everything is so delicious.

After our three-plus hour dinner, as we cross the rickety bamboo foot bridge which spans the Nan Khan River to return home, we consider the distinct possibility of crashing through the slats in an Indiana Jones-like manner given how full we feel.  It’s almost impossible to imagine that when we wake up 9 hours later, we will be back at Tamarind learning how to cook ourselves!  (No, there were no bugs on that menu.)  More to come on Lao food!

Are readers interested in recipes along with the posts?  Let me know!