Dave and Jen set off on what was supposed to be a 12hour (which actually turned out to be 14 and a half hours) bus ride inland through Flores to Ende. Where we were to have a short overnight stay before pushing on again to Moni and Kelimutu, an extinct volcano and the home of three coloured lakes...
Expecting the worst, Dave and Jen were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by an empty minibus for their journey which then quickly filled up (as per apparant Indonesian standards), to at least 150% of capacity. Our 12 seater minibus, now containing 16 individuals, all of us packed in like sardines, but at least the windows opened to let in fresh air... The roads were bitumen and of relatively good standard, whch was welcoming as all of our resarch had told us they were pot holled and terrible.
However, our journey was not wihtout excitement as our driver negotiated motorbikes, goats, chickens, buffalo, small children, pigs and oncoming trucks and buses at 100km on wet mountaineous roads with shear drops (and none of that guard rail to protect you from a most likely imminent death should you drive a bit too far to the side), all while lighting and smoking at least 3 packs of cigaretes and talking on his phone... As night fell, however, our driver took on a more cautious persona -it must have been the blaring Indonesian music that calmed him down, which was a sigh of relif (even if it did cause headaches!)
The bus stopped in a little town, about two hours away from Ende and Jen (typically) busting for the toilet, asked the driver for directions to the nearest bathroom... In the pitch darkness, Jen followed the bus driver, who quickly grabbed her hand and pleaded 'Haiti-Haiti' to her (translates to caution and be aware), to an outhouse neighbouring the pig sty of a small bamboo farmhouse. Jen and the bus driver then made their way back to the bus to meet an anxious Dave, who was quietly stressed out about how dodgy the whole situation was and "how quickly things could get ugly here..." (Jen, unaware of her surroundings just thought Dave was over-reacting and thinking everywhere is like "the hood" in the rough streets of LA, until Dave mentioned that even the tough looking Indonesian guys on the bus we getting worried about our stop...) The strangest thing of all though, was that we dropped off a nun at this dark and dangerous town!
Dave and Jen arrived in Ende, sufferring from slight cabin fever, almost 15 hours cramped in a small confined bus seat, and went to bed. The next morning, Dave and Jen packed our bags and walked out the door in the hope of some sort of transport appearring to take us to the bus station for our final 2 hour leg to Moni. In true Indonesian style, we were met with two guys on scooters as soon as we stepped out the front gate offerring lifts to the bus stations. After Jen bargaining down the guys, and convincing an unconvinced Dave that jumping on the back of a scooter with 20kg of luggage on your back is a good idea -at that price, we jumped on... Jen spent the whole 10 minute journey working on her Indonesian, while Dave spent the whole time terrified at being at the helm of some random guy with a scooter... As Dave and Jen approached the bus station, we were immediately crowded by men grabbing for our bags. Dave, thinking he was being robbed, did his best to push them off, to which they all stood back and laughed! -Realising that Dave was unaware they were only trying to help him get his bags on the next bus...
Our bus to Moni was full when it arrived, by our, clearly uneducated standards, and yet we were expected to fit. Afer some re-arrangement, this was actually comfortably possible, even if all desire for personal space had to be left behind. More passengers got on, with the end total being at least 29 people (you can never get a definite number due to their contortionist abilities) on a 16 seater bus. The driver then proceeded to driver around town honking, as per Indonesian custom, just to make sure no one else wanted to come too, before heading off. Two hours, and numerous pit stops for chats, shopping, cigarette breaks, Dave and Jen got dropped off in Moni. A beautiful, but very very small village, with no electricity, or, to Dave's disappointent, chicken, (despite it being in every second item on most menus, and the fact that there are live chooks running everywhere through the village), the closest place to the coloured lakes of Mt Kelimutu.
Dave and Jen organised transport to Kelimutu for the next morning at 430am to catch the sunrise, and Dave was less than impressed to find that transport meant 'back of a scooter!' After a long and scary (for Dave) ride in the dark with goats and buffalo running wild around wet mountaineous roads, (and one slight crash with a goat) we arrived at the car park to which we hiked the last 15 minutes to the summit. Unfortunately, the weather was not conducive to lake viewing. The fog was so thick, and not likely to lift until later that morning, when we were supposed to be on another bus heading to Maumere (our last stop in Flores and where we'd fly back to Bali)... Rather disappointed at missing what we'd come so far to see, Dave and Jen mae the trip back down to our accommodation and some brekki before setting off again.
This time our transport was a "private taxi" which was like a 4wd 5 seater car with 7 people and two chickens packed in... Our new driver was very considerate and relatively safe (a welcomed change to our last driver), stopping his car to light cigarettes or talk on his phone. But made up for lost time by driving as fast as humanely possible through the tight corners of the mountain roads, resulting in two of the passengers being car sick! Of course, the driver didn't stop for this, and instead only casually pointed to where the plastic bags could be found (as if this was a regular occurence) -which the two girls filled and then proceeded to through out the window! Imagine if you were on a scooter behind and drove into that!
Quite shaken and feeling quesy, Dave and Jen arrived in Maumere -previously the number one diving destination in Flores, before a the aforementioned earthquake and Tsunami destroyed it in 1992. Maumere realy is just a town in the middle of nowhere iwht a couple of guesthouses, a supermarket and a harbour for ferrys to other islands. Well off the beaten track, but unfortunately with no great appeal. Dave and Jen went searching for food. Again being quite the novelty for the locals, Dave and Jen were clearly prime subjects for entertainment and walking opportunity for English practice, which we politely obliged as best we could. After walked through the town, (and for what seemed like ages in the unrelenting sun, we luckily stumbled across a Masakan Padang place, which didn't looked terribly appetising, and would probably shock our mothers and all guide books writers if they saw us eating there, but we were starving! The food was actually quite tasty, but then again we were relatively delirious from the heat and hunger...
Dave and Jen spent the rest of our time in Maumere exploring the supermarket, relaxing and chatting with other travellers befoire catching a plane back to Denpasar, Bali. The highlight of Maumere for Jen was meeting an Australian father and son, from Parkville, who were beginning a Charlie Boorman and Ewan McGregor Long Way Round style journey from Melbourne to London by car. After general chit-chat about the route and provisions, Jen asked the father whether he had any mechanical knowledge in case of a breakdown, to which he replied with a nervous laugh, 'none at all.' However, he did know how to change a tyre... To escape an akward moment, Jen quickly complimented him on his choice of vehicle -a Toyota Landcruiser, and wished them luck, very envious of the adventure that awaited them...
