Komodo (The greatest week ever!)

After a brief stop in Bali for some more oysters and a massage we went to the airport and bought tickets to Labuanbajo in Flores. We knew the flight was not a major route but after receiving handwritten boarding passes we began to realise what sort of flight it was. Calls were heard over the Tannoy for various other flights until finally a man in the corner shouted out ‘Transnusa, Labuan Bajo’ and a few of us were ushered onto a bus which took us past all the big planes to a little old one at the end complete with vehicle to tow it to the runway. Actually the flight was fine, in fact it was far better than Easyjet or Ryanair, we even got a roll and a drink. The airport at Labuan Bajo was a little different in that there was a gate next to the landing strip where people just walked out, no customs, no immigration, not even a building. The luggage carousel consisted of two little Indonesian men carrying each bag to a table and asking whose it was making sure that they didn’t dislodge their cigarettes in the process. Luckily for us a local guy saw we were new in town and offered us a lift into the centre.
Initially LB was quite intimidating with lots of locals asking you if you wanted ‘transport’ which meant a ride on their motorbike and as LB was so small you felt the whole town knew you were there. After the mandatory long walk in the heat we found somewhere to stay. It was a bamboo hut with a decent fan, clean mattress, very good mosquito net and great view. On the downside it was right next to the Mosque so we had a daily 5am wake-up call. Also the toilet left a little to be desired as did the power shower (see below):



Once settled in we went in search of a boat to charter as we wanted to visit Komodo Island to see the famous dragons. As expected prices were hugely inflated so we were fortunate to meet a Dutch guy named Andre in one office who was trying to arrange a similar trip to us. He had also met five others and so now as an eight we were in a far stronger bargaining position. Andre, Alex and I bargained hard and showed little mercy in arranging our tour, although we had to compromise slightly on safety as no boats had radios and ours had four lifejackets between the eight of us.

The next day our global team met at 7am for the start of our trip. We had representatives from Holland, England, France, Italy, Germany and China. Our crew of three did not speak English but were excellent and always made sure we were looked after. Our first destination was an uninhabited beach for a spot of snorkelling then after a fresh fish and rice buffet lunch on board we headed to Rinca (2 hours from LB), home of the Komodo Dragon. During our first trek we saw around 20 dragons though due to the heat of the day they were mostly lying down regulating their body temperature. Our park guide was excellent and made our trek even more fun when he showed us some Komodo dragon remains after one dragon had been eaten by another. We were extra pleased we had him as a guide when he said, ‘take some of the remains as a souvenir but don’t show the guards’. I now own a Komodo dragon claw.


We then began our journey to the next island, Komodo itself (2 ½ hours). We arrived at around 5.30 just in time to see the flying foxes begin to fly from the trees. We had a lovely Ikan (fish) dinner and then began to chat the night away helped by some local homebrewed rice whiskey. The stars that night were like nothing we had ever seen and seemed to cover the entire sky. We all decided a night swim was in order and jumped off the boat. Jake the other Brit on the boat, just out of school and about to go to Newcastle Uni to study French and Politics (and another Forest fan to boot) was first in. He had never seen the phosphorescence created by the plankton before and exclaimed, "F**K French and Politics, I’m doing Cosmology and Marine Biology!" In truth the phosphorescence had to be seen to be believed and we all went to bed on deck with big smiles on our faces.

Those smiles however did not last the night as we had a very thin sun lounger cover to sleep on and no pillows or blankets to keep us warm. Alex and I slept on the roof of the boat, the plus side being an incredible view of the amazing night sky, the only negative being hypothermia. Nobody slept well and we all looked worse for wear as we entered Komodo Island at eight a.m. Even seeing a pod of dolphins that morning was not enough to invigorate us. At Komodo we were lead on a thoroughly uninspiring walk by some local boys who were nice enough, though as a science subject leader I’d have to question some of their scientific vocabulary choices. When asked how the dragons mate we were told and I quote "He puts his forked c**k in her p***y and they f**k for seven hours." I’m sure David Attenborough described it differently.

Just as we were coming to the end of the walk, everything changed. Along the beach we saw a huge, ferocious, prehistoric looking dragon walking towards us, then another from out of the trees, his slow walk becoming a run, ungainly yet plainly powerful. We all knew that one bite from a dragon and the bacteria in its saliva would kill us. The dragons squared up to each other but the rangers, armed only with sticks, steered one away. The other one however was not so easily deterred and continued walking in our direction less than two metres from us. Fortunately the rangers found another stick to help steer the dragons away, unfortunately they gave it to me. For some reason I wasn’t scared, in fact I loved it. They are without doubt the most beautiful creatures I’d ever seen and I feel that I have fulfilled a personal little dream in seeing them.

We headed back to the boat and off to our next snorkelling destination ‘Manta Point’ where we snorkelled with no less than 12 manta rays. We even saw 4 of them perform a sort of dance in which they all moved in circles within each other. What a morning we’d had! After another hearty boat lunch we began the four and a half hour trip home. We were all exhausted but all beaming like the Komodo that got the goat.

For some reason we decided that we would go back to Rinca the following day, this time to scuba dive. Wow! On our first dive we saw sharks that were around three metres in length, giant travellies, schools of fusiliers, tuna, a turtle and puffa fish that let you swim right up to them. Our second dive was also pretty good. To top off the day, on our way back a pod of dolphins decided to swim alongside, around and in front of our boat. We could see them gliding under the surface from the boat deck (obviously Alex had called them earlier with her dolphin whispering skills).

We had planned to leave LB the next day but after our amazing diving, we decided to sign up to the three day package. The next day we got even luckier, nobody else had signed up to dive, this meant that we had the boat to ourselves, the best possible divemaster ratio and a free choice of where we wanted to dive. We were visibly excited by the prospect and were certainly not disappointed. We took the boat two and a quarter hours out towards Komodo Island and stopped at a dive site called Batu Balong. As soon as we were under the water we saw a huge humped back Jackfish. Then we turned around and there was a 2 metre long white tipped reef shark lying on the sea bed. We inched closer and closer and it didn’t seem to mind. We got almost within touching distance and just watched him for what seemed like ages. We saw a lovely turtle, a few more sharks and two enormous moray eels. Our second dive of the day was probably the most difficult dive we have ever done as the current was very strong and we had to be careful of down currents which are like under water whirlpools and very dangerous. Alex and I had just swum a particularly nasty bit and were looking for come coral to safely cling to whilst our divemaster tried to locate two tiny pygmy seahorses. At that point four huge manta rays swam right next to us. We just starred in utter amazement and disbelief at these incredible creatures, so huge yet so graceful. Throughout the dive we saw another six huge mantas though not at such close range. After the dive we both agreed it was the best dive we’d ever done. Then as we ate our beautifully cooked fresh ikan, sambal and nasi on the boat and drank fresh banana and papaya juice, we came to the conclusion that this was the most incredible week of our lives.

Perhentian Paradise

Our little bit of paradise

The transfer to Perhentian was so smooth it was like the scene from Snatch, plane, taxi and boat in quick succession and then we were there. We decided to be dropped off on the quiet side of the backpacker island, Perhentian Kecil and looked for somewhere to stay. It was scorching hot and even with backpacks on and sweat streaming down our faces we were both able to stop and comment on the beauty of the water, absolutely crystal clear, with little fishes swimming amongst the coral.

Our accommodation was basic and consisted of wooden huts with a bed, fan, mosquito net and cold shower, but what we sacrificed in room quality we made up for in views.

The room, aided by our bungee ropes that have proved essential travel items

The view!

We stayed for six days and if we hadn’t booked an ongoing flight, we would have stayed longer. Other than the mosquito’s this place was paradise! A tranquil, unspoilt bay with no hotels, fresh juice, awesome sunsets and an incredible fish bbq at £3 a head including dessert, happy days! We also discovered the local arak brew called ‘monkey juice’ which worked rather well with coke and made for some long nights overlooking the sea.

Other than the food and the amazing water, our other highlight was the snorkelling trip. We’d never been huge fans of snorkelling but this trip was special. We were taken by speed boat to a range of sights where we saw and swam with over ten baby sharks and a few small, blue spotted rays, turtles and a massive bump-headed parrot fish. We also saw a very funny creature in the water named ‘the Malaysian city dweller’, largely originating from KL they can distinguished by the brightly coloured life jackets they wear in order to keep them horizontal and stop them smashing the coral bed, their behaviour pattern consists of splashing about aimlessly and screaming in a mixture of delight and fear. They were hilarious, but fair play to them for trying to snorkel in the middle of the sea if you can’t swim. Before we returned back to Kecil, we stopped for lunch on a deserted island and to our delight, our favourite chef from the bbq appeared to make our juices. The trip lasted seven hours and cost the same amount of pounds, bargain, (Thanks Jeffrey).

Monkey Juice o'clock

Every day other than that followed a similar pattern. We would wake up and have mounds of fresh fruit and juice for breakfast. Then we would go to the posh hotel at the other end of the bay and secretly use their sun-loungers whilst we read our books. Occasionally we would go for a long swim in the sea or join in with the city dwellers in a game of volley ball. It was the first time on our trip when we felt relatively superhuman in our ability to do anything physical as the city dwellers, as lovely and good humoured as they were approached sport as if they’d only received limbs that morning.

We were a little sad to be leaving the island and will probably go back someday, however the parting blow was eased by the knowledge that after a day in Kota Bharu, we would be flying to Flores for more R+R.

48 hours of Sumo and Sushi

Our short time in Japan was a surreal affair, yet highly enjoyable. From the moment we arrived in Tokyo it was clear that this was a very foreign place. Despite the large population, everything was more serene than in other major cities, still fast paced yet somehow quieter. On the metro, everyone was respectful with crowds of people taking turns to let each other on and off, being careful to make no physical contact.

Once we had dropped our bags off to our tiny yet functional room we set off in search of sushi. We walked for over an hour, past ladies in Kimonos, business men shikoeing to their bosses as they left restaurants, but no sushi! We even took part in a police organised sort of public cycling proficiency in which members of the public were called over a tanoy to complete an obstacle course on byciycles, twice, once with an umbrella in their hand, once without. As the token white people we were sort out and persuaded to have a go. Needless to say we performed with that poor level of motor skills that we have come to expect from western people, yet we smiled and laughed our way through it and were applauded far to generously by the locals, we were even given a free key-ring and a packet of tissues.

Alex showing off her cycling skills

Eventually we found the fish market and with it, sushi heaven! We sat at a conveyor belt and spent the next hour sampling all kinds of raw fish related delights. The chef who spoke a little English asked ‘do you like oysters?’ Does Gary Glitter like the summer holidays? Bring it on! Not as good as Thailand but tasty never the less.

We were surprised, though in a way quite pleased that very few people spoke English, it was as culturally different a place as we had visited, and it got stranger. We were lucky enough to get tickets for a Sumo Basho the same day. I used to watch a lot of Sumo in my younger days, along with Kabaddi it was the highlight of my Transworld Sport Sunday mornings. I still remembered a ‘Yokazuna’ (champion I think) nicknamed ‘the dump truck’. Each week opponents would run against him only to be momentarily lost in his ample man breasts before he either exploded into them knocking them flying or picked them up and threw them to the ground. However, I’d never seen the massive ceremonial side to Sumo before. It was an art form and we both wish someone in the know could have explained the intricacies of it all, the significance of the big fat dudes staring each other out and wearing brightly coloured lower body tabards walking in a procession around the ring. The crowd all seemed to know at which point in the ceremony to shout ‘ha’ in unison.

Part of the ceremony

It was so much more than a sport, it had elements of art and even religion. It was an impressive sight and one has to respect any sport one can play and gain weight at the same time. The bouts, though short were dynamic and the big fella’s in nappy’s had an almost graceful look, except for the two non-Japanese ‘Dave and Darren’ we called them. They looked more suited to a building site than a Dojo. For want of a better way of putting it, their arses just didn’t look as refined.

Sumo arse (refined)

Sumo arse (unrefined)

The last thing Darren remembered, he was downing his Stella on a night out with the boys.

After some more sushi we went to bed. We were due to fly out the next evening and wanted to get up bright and early to explore this exciting city further. We decided the next day (after our sushi breakfast) to visit a traditional Onsen, which is like a hot baths but with a few customs that we were yet to learn. We wanted an authentic experience so we travelled a little out of the centre to find our bath of choice. It was hidden down a side alley but luckily a kind local walked us to the door. The first thing we realised was that they were separated by gender so we split up and began our own personal voyage of discovery.

Andy’s experience: I entered a bland changing room with a set of scales, heart pressure monitor, reclining chair and lots of naked, old Japanese men. Oh well, when in Rome, so I stripped and went through the next door. In this room I was greeted by rows of low taps and a few, sort of plastic milking stools. Sat on the stools or on the floor was an array of naked, old Japanese men either crouching or sitting cross legged, thoroughly shampooing their scrotums. It’s not my favourite mental picture of our travels, or my worst to be honest, but it did leave me in a dilemma: stool or floor? I eventually decided on floor and got stuck in. Once they were shiny I ventured through another door to a small outdoor area in which there were three pools, two hot ones, about 36 and 42 degrees respectively and a cold one (the shrivel pool). There was also a jet massage pool at about 40 degrees, and again, an array of naked Japanese men. The pools were really comfortable and relaxing, though I’m very grateful that I had my book with me to read. After about an hour of soaking I got changed, checked the scales (unhappily as my diet of red meat and wine in NZ had taken its toll), and left to meet Alex at the front of the building to compare stories.

Alex’s experience: Bathing in a steaming room full of Japanese women of all ages, was actually sort of lovely. There were no pretensions, no barriers at all, just all women together. As the only European woman in the baths it was only natural that I was stared at a lot. And no doubt there were a few chuckles at my skin costume (the vibrant tan marks from my swimming costume). But all in all it was really pleasant. I even helped a less-abled lady get into one of the baths, which caused a bit of a stir. Suddenly everyone wanted to chat, but speaking only one word of Japanese ('Koneecheewah') and being suddenly surrounded by a gaggle of sweating ladies was a bit too much, so I swiftly exited and grabbed a towel.

All that was left to do was collect our bags from the hotel, have one more sushi session and then head to KL and then finally to the Perhentian Islands.