Indonesia 2019 | Samosir Island, Toba Lake

January 4, 2020. Samosir Island, Toba Lake
We've spent two lovely days here in a quiet lake resort, with hot and cold running water (that you can drink and brush your teeth in) and where the food is fresh and varied. There is even wine, and lattes. There's a pool, and of course the lake, where we took a dip to cool off this afternoon. Our accommodation is in a traditional Batak house, typical of this area, and we are on the second floor. I am sitting on our covered patio, enjoying the view of the lake, and the light rain that is falling again tonight.

It wasn't easy to get here. We are travelling during the Christmas to New Year's break, and even now there are a lot of people on the move. We were expecting g a long day of driving, but not quite that long. It took 12 hours of intense driving to get us here from Buket Lawang. I spent most of the time with my eyes closed. They drive on the other side of the road here and I had a close up viewI of the motorcycles and cars that we were passing. Many of the roads were two-lane (which of course means nothing) and others were narrow winding roads up and down mountains. Our guide and driver changed course several times to avoid the heavy traffic going into Medan, and even then we were too late to catch the last ferry (it was full by mid-day) and had to follow a different route to where there was a bridge across to the island. All that swerving in and out and speeding up and slowing down is just very stressful for me. Fortunately there were some stops of interests along the way including a stroll through a fresh market, where we sampled many fruits we'd never seen before.

But we got here, and the last two days were split between touring and learning about the Toba Lake Batak people, and leisure time. We visited traditional villages away from the mainly touristic villages, and danced with local people as part of a traditional performance.

Family of 6 children in a local village

The women weaver's village

Decoratvecarving on traditional Toba Batak house

We've eaten some great food: we love the peanut sauce and have tried it on just about everything. There is a lot of fresh produce here; on the way we saw fields and fields of agricultural crops. We do have our favourites: cap-cai (pronounced chap chai), a mixed vegetable dish with oyster sauce; gado-gado vegetables with peanut sauce; Medan style soto, a coconut milk soup with chicken and vegetables deliciously seasoned with turmeric, galanga, ginger, candle nut, kaffir lime and shallot ; grilled fish; and fresh green salad. Margaret is enjoying the iced kopi (coffee!)

Our guide, Deslim, and driver Nasib have been amazing. They are knowledgeable about the natural environment here, and the culture. Deslim cooks a lot at home so he knows food and ingredients really well. He can often tell us how things are made and the ingredients, and he has ordered all of our food, ensuring always that mine is gluten free.

Light nutmeg, or candle nut

We tried balancing the basket on our heads for this dance

Christmas trees everywhere made from recycled plastic bottles

Today we tried to buy ulos, the traditional woven garments here, in one of the weaving villages but couldn't make a deal. He gave us good advice before we went to the village, and translated for us, but, alas, the price was too high. We left empty handed :-(

Tonight, we are packed and ready to go. There are still long lineups to get off the island by ferry, so Nasib has taken our bags and gone to line up. He is either in the queue, asleep in his car, or on the mainland, I guess. Tomorrow Deslim and Margaret and I will take the foot passenger ferry and meet him on the mainland. We have a flight tomorrow afternoon to Jakarta, and then on to Sarong, Papua, where we will board our boat, the Seven Seas, for our snorkeling adventure. We can't afford to miss that flight!

Indonesia 2019 | Trekking in Bukit Lawang

January 1, 2020 Bukit Lewang
I am sitting in the restaurant at Eco lodge wondering how I survived the day. My feet are asking what they did to deserve the treatment they took today. Every toe and metatarsal pad burns. My ankles are rigid and sore, and my knees have said enough already. We trekked, as in climbed, up through jungle on rooted muddy paths then down the slippery channels only to climb our way up again. I asked about a walking stick yesterday, and thank you, Deslim for finding one, because without it, I'm not sure how I could have done it. Each step is a carefully planted foot; there's not a lot of casual walking or strolling.

Six hours trekking through the jungle. We would walk through an area, then watch and wait. Move on, watch and wait. Most of what we were hoping for was there, but we did not see the orangutans in the wild--only in the relatively familiar environment of the park. But there was lots to see! Countless orangutans with adolescent children and tiny babies still learning to walk the jungle tightrope.

Mom and baby

The grand pooba male

The one giant alpha male orangutan who rules the area and mates with them all to keep this population viable.

Lots of long tail macaques, a pig-tailed macaques who hung out with us over lunch, while munching on the last bits of some careless tourist's discarded pineapple (not by  us, God forbid!).

Pig tailed macaque

Long tailed Tomas's leaf monkey

Long tailed Tomas's leaf monkey, with mohawk hairdo

Tomas's leaf monkey

The other big sighting was a hornbill, the giant macaw with two bright yellow horns atop an orange beak and massive black body. He was very hard to see while perched in a tree but in flight, it was like seeing a boldly colored streak awkwardly bolt from tree to tree. I don't t know if they are long flyers or not, but there were two and this one followed the call. Our local guide slithered down the hill with my camera and grabbed a few shots; I was content to watch him from my own perch higher up the gulley.

I am totally aware that the presence of these semi-wild animals is not entirely a good news story. Although there are several species and a big count especially of the endangered orangutan is an a achievement. It has to better than living on the end of a leash as someone's pet, walking,ing urban streets, like eye candy for gawking spectators with cameras. But I did my share of gawking, and I haven't yet sifted through a disk filled with photos to see just how easily I fell into the pattern of privileged tourist seeking a thrilling experience with wildlife. I also know that both Tangkahan and Buket Lawang rely on tourism. The economy of tourism is only just emerging in Tangkahan, but here in Bket Lawang, it is thriving. On our trek, we encountered many others just like us. Some were small groups, others large. Some were quietly making their way through the forest; others noisy and disruptive, not unlike so many tourists we see at home. 

Indonesia 2019 | Bukit Lawang

December 31, 2019. Eco-Lodge, Bukit Lawang
A morning of frolicking on the river was like a much-needed and much-deserved vacation. We are on vacation, aren't we? Sometimes I wonder. With the help of our trusted guide and his friend, Fred, a local guide, we headed out as promised to play in the river. With temperatures in the mid-30s and the humidity as close to 100% as you can get without the rains coming down, just the thought of floating down the river is seductive. There are some serious currents in the river, so the first task, after getting into the right footwear (leech socks and Tevas for me; water shoes for Margaret) we stepped into the current. Fred held Margaret and Deslim took my arm on the other side and together they edged us into the current, and with strength and perseverance, through it to calmer water further into the river. From that rather dramatic beginning we swam across to a hot spring on the other side. The river is swift, so you have to aim high above your destination to end up in the right place but we did it. After a relaxing few minutes in the bathtub-warm spring water, it was back into the current to swim downstream in search of the next point of interest. We did this in-and-out-of the river thing a few times, until we reached the point where we would 'board' our inner tubes. Minutes later, the four of us, our destinies on those tubes tied together with rope cord, launched into the river to the cheers and -- did I hear applause? -- of the locals gathered on the shoreline. I can only imagine the site of it-- well, actually, there are photos -- our pale skin and white hair against those two dark-skinned black-haired Indonesian men. And what a refreshing way to spend the morning. As we headed for Bukit Lewang, it became quickly apparent that the respite was to be short lived.

Oh my, what a ride. Our 4x4 had no seat belts in back, and no door handles. It's nice to have your driver jump out and open the door, and we did appreciate the cross-breeze between our two windows, permanently at half mast.

It was bumpy and hot and slow, but it did make the cold shower here at the Eco-Lodge feel that much better when we finally arrived. We ate lunch, unpacked, took a short nap, and then headed out for our first of two orangutan treks. We had already seen and learned to identify long- and pig-tailed macaques, regular and silver Tomas's leaf monkeys, but this area is known for its work to rescue, train, and repatriate orangutans to the jungle. Their program has been so successful that in this area the program boasts a healthy population in the wild and substantial numbers of females in the semi- wild program.

It's a bit of a climb up to where there are semi-wild orangutans but our local guide, a wisp of a man named Aya reminded us that we are on vacation, and there is no rush. There is no competition in the jungle, he tells us. At least none that we are part of! So the climb is slow and steady with frequent stops to provide information, while we catch our breath. There is a community of sorts up in the hill, and it's here that we meet her and her young one. She is perched in a tree about 8 feet off the ground, and we nearly walk past her before realizing she is there. Well, from then on, for at least 45 minutes, she posed for us, sometimes walking past so close I could have touched her her, other times swinging from tree to tree, following the encouragement of our guide. I'm pretty sure this is not their first rodeo, so to speak, and he communicates with her with clicking sounds, and of course, bananas. I have to keep reminding myself that this is not an encounter with a wild orangutan. She is a semi-wild, having been rescued and trained to live in the jungle. But she will never likely leave this area. Her offspring will, but a female cannot re-integrate to a family of wild orangutans. The males come to her. Not such a bad deal, given that at one time she was at-risk.

Tomorrow we head out early for a full day trek, in search of wild animals. We are told there is a small chance we may see a gibbon, which would be amazing, and also possibly a horn bill, the spectacular bird we call a macaw, but the most populous species here is the big orange orangutan. But first, we have to survive New Year's Eve! It's fairly quiet at the moment. I hear singing, and some thumpings of musical instruments but every few minutes a barrage of fireworks lights up the sky and shakes us in our beds. I need sleep. Now.

Indonesia 2019 | Tengkahan Sumatra

Snakeskin fruit, because it looks like one

Margaret and Deslim

Jungle Lodge Tangkahan Dec 31
It was a warm and breezy morning yesterday when in the wee hours we headed to Chiangmi in Singapore to catch a 730 flight to Medan. Finally clearing the immigration hurdles we approached a short stalky man bearing a sign that read Mrs Suddards and Family. Sisters, we quickly explained, although no one would mistake us for mother and daughter. A bit shy of 24 hrs later, I am sitting up in bed, a light blanket pushed aside, listening to the soft strains of music coming from the cabin next door.

We are at The Jungle Lodge in Tangkahan in North Sumatra, the focal point for tourism in this rather remote part of Sumatra. One of three rivers flows gently by, and occasionally clucking emanates from some where outside. No cackling roosters have thus far greeted the dawn. Next to us, are four headscarved young women who appear to be travelling alone, and spent much of the afternoon on their little balcony. Last night I fell asleep to their chatter and laughter. This morning, it is their singing that has awakened me from the near dead and I have been eaves dropping on what I assume to be their morning prayers. It's quiet again now. Faints sounds are coming from elsewhere, but they are masked by the rushing river. It must be that sunrise is not so far away.

By the time my head fell like lead to the pillow last night, much of my angst about this leg of our journey had been replaced with basic necessities that could with some effort be managed. Multi- laned freeways from the airport to Medan soon gave way to narrow, two-lane roadways through busy commercial areas where delivery trucks, bataks, and cars vie for space with motorcycles and pedestrians. The streets are lined with ramshackles of businesses all with familiar corrugated pull-down grates, mostly faded beige, interrupted by newly painted and surprisingly bright colors on a few shops. As we drive further and further from the centre into residential neighbourhoods, the roads improve and tidy rows of houses emerge. These are the homes of the middle class we are told, people with government jobs, health benefits and pension plans. The homes are bright and intricately decorated, with various shades of green from lime to forest, orange, saffron, and occasionally chile pepper red. The streets are planted in calla lilies and tiny front yard are modestly decorated with hibiscus, cannas, and other tropical plants.

The singing has resumed. Perhaps one sleepy soul has missed her prayers. Our resident ghecko has clicked again. I wonder where he is.

The long drive through suburbs of Medan eventually led to country roads and then the rough track we had been warned about. It was a four hour trip, but with short helpful lessons from Deslim, our guide,  the time passed. We stopped at a traditional town market; there were no big surprises here, except perhaps the friendliness of the local people. We learned about the palm oil seed harvest, how they are harvested from the trees in clusters, and left on the side of the road to be picked up by the trucks of the property owners. Plantation rows of palms line the highways. Palm oil is not the valued commodity it once was and the economy here is suffering due to its decline. In the last few km we share the road with emaciated cattle and chickens, and I notice a few pigs or wild boar scurrying among the palms.

We arrived at the lodge on foot. Deslim had advised that we could pay the local women to haul our gear to the lodge and this was arranged. I missed it, but they apparently hoisted those 20 kg bags onto their heads and off they went. The going rate, out here in the jungle, is about 500 rupiah, or 2 dollars a bag. I will have to see if Margaret has a picture. We were expecting a bit of a raft ride across the river, but a suspension bridge has replaced it and my wobbling legs struggled across as my backpack shifted from side to side. I was relieved to finally stretch out on my bed for a short nap before our afternoon trek.

I had read about the Sumatran elephants and somewhere in our notes, the Tangkahan rescue centre. So with a bit of resistance from the guide, we walked through the scattered homes and shops, down alleys and trails, to the rescue centre. We'd been warned about the flash rains, and sure enough we arrived just in time to duck under a sheltered restaurant to wait it out. The centre doesn't seem to be a centre at all, just a small cottage-like building, but there are elephants across the river and to our great joy this was bath day. But until the rains subsided, we amused ourselves watching the long-tailed Macaques, and Tomas's leaf monkeys play. We caught a huge family of little ones practicing their balancing skills on the wires crossing the rivers. So cute as they wobbled away. They were so tiny some as little as kittens, some as large as a small dog, but none of the big macaques we saw in Morocco. There are also pig-tailed macaques, but Margaret and I don't know if this is like a pig's tail or like a pigtail. Hopefully we will learn more about the macaques this afternoon.

But first, this morning after breakfast we will take the big plunge for which we have been busily preparing this past month. We packed water shoes and leech socks and I even contemplated stealing a shaker of salt. We have bug screen and sunscreen, and I have a wet sack. We've seen the giant truck tire inner tubes upstream, and today it's our treat to get in and float down the river. So when was the last time you floated down a river on an inner tube? We think maybe when Margaret lived in Truckee where it was pretty common sport to do this on the upper part of the river before the kayakers took over at the rapids.

Indonesia and Raja Ampat 2019 | Singapore

Chinatown Buddhist Temple

Chinatown 

The history of Chinese in SG is depicted in street art

Wall murals depict traditional Chinese life

Wall mural in Chinatown

Green architecture in downtown SG

The Marina Bay Sands Hotel

Québec North Shore and Gaspésie October 2019 | Gaspésie