City of light

Singapore has come and gone, not soon enough if you ask me. So the road was to take us to one of my favorite Asian cities: Hong Kong. A former British colony, now a Chinese Special Administrative Region. Would it remain cool or has it turned to shit?

Upon landing and queuing up in the immigration line I realized that Hong Kong has adopted same duty free rules towards tobacco as Singapore: 1 open pack of cigarettes permitted with no duty free allowance. Shit... and here I am, packing a carton of kretek from Bali and a pack of cigars. Fortunately, no one was the wiser and I squeaked through the customs unchecked. Phew... what a relief. We inquired at the information desk for we were about to check in to Courtyard by Mariott on Hong Kong island and found out there was a direct bus there: we wouldn't have to bother with transfers. Fantastic! After sending the missus out to get some change (exact change everywhere on the buses) we hopped on a double-decker and off we went.

Our little room in Marriott

It was another bit of luxury for us. Hotels are so bloody expensive in HK. Even the shittiest tea house hotels in the middle of nowhere start at around $60 and a proper hotel will run you at least $150. Instead I used the last remaining Marriott points and booked us a proper room in a nice hotel at a good location. Bloody brilliant thing with hotel loyalty points: if you have a chance, collect them any way you can. This room would've run us nearly $300 per night, instead, it was free. Room was quite small, which was a surprise for Marriott, but very nicely furnished with a view of the tallest building in HK and its port. Shower done, I called my friend Ruby for some hints what to do, what to see and to arrange a reunion meeting after 8 years. At around 2PM it was time to hit the town and explore the city a bit.

The recommendation from Ruby was to see Victoria Peak today, maybe even for the sunset. While this seemed like a good idea, the 2 hour queue to get onto the peak tram wasn't so enjoyable. It was the end of the holiday for the students and with bad weather looming around the corner everyone wanted to get a piece of the Peak action. We just saw the line, waved our hands at it and decided to go roam the city a bit.

Double-decker trams, double-decker buses, double-decker ferries... am I seeing double?

Every evening at around 8PM some of the skyscrapers in Hong Kong stage a light show, Light and Sound spectacular show or whatever they call it. The view is best from Kowloon side, so hopping on a traditional ferry and paying the extravagant fare of 2 HKD (about 25 cents US) we went to enjoy the show. Hong Kong ferries are an absolute must for anybody. Cheap, fun, sometimes crowded, they are the best way to travel between Victoria Island and the mainland side. And you can always bring a beer on board. :)

Let the light show begin

Kowloon side was extremely crowded an hour before the show. Tourists, locals, mainlanders, all swarming the pier in hordes. But a cold beer does the trick and the waiting game began. At 8PM sharp, loudspeakers started pounding Chinese and Classical music and the buildings across the bay started blinking and shooting off laser lights all around. It's Christmas! And definitely it is the most fun, free thing, you can do in Hong Kong.

Skyline's still nice after 8 years

Show was over within 15 minutes and it was finally time to get some food. We were starving. Once the ferry got back to star pier we grabbed a cab and headed to LKF for some food. A famous foodie area, which is absolutely swarming with bars. Food wise: it's actually not that great. Rather touristy, expensive and sub standard fare. We walked out a bit into the side streets before finding a nice looking local restaurant. Ma po tofu and ginger beef were on the plate and made us really quite happy. On the way home it was time to experience the 50 year old double-decker tram that runs quite slowly, but covers almost the entire length of the island, and most importantly, stops nearby our hotel. A charming experience not to be missed for sure. Tomorrow it would be the Peak (again) in the morning for another attempt to see Hong Kong from above.

Lan Kwai Fong and entrance to Soho: foodie area

2nd time around in Singapore: results are the same

Our very early breakfast came through. One last American breakfast before we depart from this heavenly island. Soon after we departed for Ngurah Rai International, though this time it wasn't Jaga who was driving us. Too bad as we got used to that guy.

It was off to Singapore for us. I visited the city during my last Asia trip in 2004 and honestly wasn't impressed back then. The city seemed sterile and boring. Hopefully this time around would be better, but there were early warning signs. I was carrying a carton of fantastic clove cigarettes purchased in Indonesia and some cigars from the Philippines. Normally this would present a problem, except that Singapore has... NO DUTY FREE ALLOWANCE FOR TOBACCO. None, zero, zilch, nada. So what is the solution here? Pay $7 per pack in duty or allow the products to be destroyed. Damn Singapore. Truth is I only booked one night in the city because the flight from Bali back to KL was damn expensive. But unfortunately we had to leave the airport.

Upon landing and exchanging $50 US into Singapore dollars, we headed straight to air-side luggage storage, where for a measly $1.07 you can leave a lose item (like a plastic bag) with things you may not want to bring into Singapore (like Tobacco products, excess alcohol or perhaps chewing gum). From there it was on to our hotel in Geylang (the red lights district, but that was not the reason to pick the hotel) to check in and do some express one-day sightseeing.

Fountain of Wealth

What's there to see in Singapore? Well... there is the zoo and the aviary and some temples and museums I suppose, but Singapore is mostly famous for its shopping. It's low VAT rate, low prices for electronics, low margins and tons, and I mean TONS of exclusive stores. How many Gucci, Armani or Louis Vuitton do you think Singapore has? Dozens of each, starting in the airport and finishing on its big shopping street.
The society is absolutely obsessed with material possessions and money. Not really surprising: Singapore sports the highest proportion of US dollar millionaires in the world (about 15% of the families in Singapore fall into that category). Unfortunately this means there is really very little to do in Singapore except eat, drink and shop. Even its most recognized symbol (besides the Merlion) is a "Fountain of Wealth", where apparently if you walk around it a few times, you'll become rich.

Impressive skyline with a foot bridge

Colonial buildings in Little India

The original Singapore Sling in the original Raffles long bar. Is it worth it? At $30 do the math...

The skyline is no more impressive than any other big Asian city, probably quite a bit less. And despite the plethora of mixed cultures and religions present in the city (Chinese, Indians, Malays and Whites on the culture side and Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, Christians and all in between religion-wise) there is a shortage of interesting historical or religious sites to visit. True, you can get a lot of great food at reasonable prices (though don't count on getting reasonable priced drinks anywhere), but Singapore is a one-day city. In fact, this reputation is well-earned. Singapore even offers free bus tours of the city for transferring passengers with more than 5 hours free time on their hands. Simply go to Terminal 2 or 3, inquire at the information desk about a "Free City Bus Tour" and voila! You can sign up and be taken on a 2 hour ride by bus which will pretty much cover every interesting site and sight in the city.

Weather was horrible, hotter than hell and more humid than inside of a belly of a humpback whale. This was not conducive for good mood in any way, shape or form. Singapore Slings at the Long Bar in Raffles Hotel didn't help much either, although the gigantic bowls of free peanuts and throwing the shells on the floor did a little to alleviate the boredom and malaise.

Peanut shells in Raffles bar: the highlight of Singapore fun

 Good night Singapore. Let's hope I never have to transfer through here again.

Watersports extravaganza

 

For our last day on Bali I wanted to give Kris experience of parasailing. Since it came in a package, we also got more watersports. We had a confirmed our early pick up at 8 AM for today from a local firm to go to Nusa Dua for couple hours of fun in the water for an internet price of 650,000 rupees ($71) for two. This included one lap parasailing, a 15 minute ride on a banana boat and a 15 minute wakeboarding session.

Upon arriving at the base, they promptly attempted to rip us off by trying to charge us 650,000 per person. It took a bit of explaining that it was a total rate, then a quick suggestion that we’d get up and walk to the next base 10 meters down if they didn’t honor the price, for the guy to start saying “Solee boss, my mistake. I thought this per person rate. Solee, you get good deal”. Right… several minutes later I still had to remind him to give me back my change which he… forgot. You gotto keep your eyes on the money here at all times.

Parasailing was first. I’ve done it before, a decade ago in Hawaii, but it was a new experience for Kris. The ride was short. Too short honestly, lasting a mere few minutes. You get strapped to a parachute and then to a rope which the other end is tied to a boat. The boat starts running and so do you, and then oopsie and you’re up in the air about 30 or 40 meters. There isn’t much steering involved, only pulling on one side of the parachute strings when you’re landing. Fun, very fun, although if you have a fear of heights (or a fear of falling as Kris describes it) it could be a slightly jarring experience. Just keep in mind you’re completely safe and even if the rope got unclipped from the boat, you’d still have a parachute over your head and land safely on the ground.

  

  

Our parasailing adventure. Great if a bit short though.

Banana boat was next. It is basically an inflated raft, shaped like a banana which is pulled by a speedboat. You sit on it, hold on to a strap and try not to fall off. They actually asked us if we wanted to fall off or not. Kris wasn’t too much into it, so we decided on just one dunk. I mean, let’s at least try it. For all the screaming that you sometimes hear coming from these, the ride was very easy and comfortable. It’s pretty difficult to fall off, unless they’re taking turns and trying to throw you off on purpose. Although getting up on it in mid-water is a whole different ballgame. The raft is quite high, round and slippery and with no footing underneath, it’s a bit of a challenge.

For our wakeboarding session, we were joined by three Kiwis on a holiday. Hannah was celebrating her 19th birthday today and was also the only one with previous experience with wakeboarding which showed immediately as she stood up without a problem and did three perfectly clean and long runs. It was my turn next, and to make a long story short, my wakeboarding experience ended pretty much the same as my surfing experience. I’m still too heavy and together with my balance problems I was tipping the board forward making getting up nearly impossible. I did get up, only to fall down immediately. Although at least I wasn’t in pain as during the surfing lesson. Kris didn’t fare much better this time although for a slightly different reason. She just wasn’t strong enough to pull herself up. Still, for both of us it was an awesome experience and we enjoyed it immensely. Given the opportunity, we’ll definitely try again.

After being dropped off at Kuta Beach, we had our sights set on lunch, then a sunbathing session. Unfortunately there was a monkey wrench thrown in our gears that had the potential to destroy our day and moods. Fortunately it didn’t completely ruin it. We were approached on the street by a local guy handing out scratch cards to see if you win a prize. Of course they were free, of course everybody won something and there was a potential to win a thousand dollars or a week holiday in Bali. The catch was: you just had to listen to a short presentation about their resort and then you’d get free lunch, free taxi home, free t-shirts and your prize. Where have I heard this before? It sounded so much like time-share sales pitch. Free this, this, this and that if you only come in and listen to our bullshit pitch. Kris was suspicious too believing in “What sounds too good, must be too good” but I guess the draw of the potential money prize was too high. I also figured, oh what the hell. We’ll get the hell out of dodge if it is a time-share sales pitch. So we went with our happy hawker who immediately started to tell us what to say: both of us are living in the US now, Kris is actually 10 years older than she really is, we should not show our passports, etc. By now this really smelled like a time-share sales pitch, as they usually approach couples who are over thirty and look like they have money. We arrived at the location, which looked a little bit like a warehouse, and we welcomed by… a slick haired used car salesman lookalike Wayne from Vancouver, Canada. At this moment, this moment exactly I knew this was a waste of time, but since we came here already, we might as well stay here for the next few minutes to get our free ride home and lunch. And of course it began: vacation club, blah blah blah, great idea, blah blah blah, equity blah blah blah. It is pretty difficult to follow American salesmen with interest for me, because after twenty years of listening to their whiny, lying bullshit, my first reaction is to strangle them. But anyways, after doing some surveys about our travel habits and the sales pitch getting long, I basically cut him off saying “Sorry mate, not interested. You’re selling timeshares”. Mr. Interested In Everything We Had To Say disappeared that moment leading us out the door to the reception. Of course the prize turned out to be bullshit. Kris won a fabulous booklet of vouchers worth a whopping $500. Considering all these vouchers were 10-20 per cent discounts in local shops, it is completely worthless. I’m normally able to bet a better discount myself. Our t-shirts turned out to be ugly advertising t-shirts for the company, our free lunch simply a 100,000 rupees voucher to the most expensive restaurant in Kuta and our taxi ride voucher had to be forced out of them by a threat of physical harm from me. They finally acquiesced and unwillingly handed us a 70,000 rupees voucher for a taxi.

Before heading to the beach we checked out the restaurant which was of course ridiculously priced (4* hotel restaurant on the beach: what did we expect). Fortunately there was a slight fortunate catch: the vouchers were also redeemable in the local minimart. Despite being very pricey, the voucher did produce two large beers and ice cream for us plus a couple pot pies which we pitched in for by ourselves. Kuta beach was heaven, strong sun, strong surf, soft wind, tanned bodies all around. We looked a bit out of place being well… maybe not pasty white, since we’ve been getting browner and browner for the past 4 weeks, but let’s say we were among the whitest there. Few hours later it was time to head home. Kris was wiped, so before catching our taxi to Sanur, we stopped for a treat in Starbucks. A double shot caramel frappuccino is as good in Kuta Beach as it is in Warsaw or Seattle.

Leaving tomorrow morning, we still had a few rupees left to spend, so another dinner at our favorite place and picking up some spices to take home from a local mini-mart occupied our evening hours. Happy with Bali, unhappy we were leaving tomorrow morning.

Let there be mantas

 

This day we were heading to Padang Bai for another day of diving with Waterworx Dive Center. This meant an extra early wake up and breakfast at 6:30 AM. I should’ve expected a bit of morning crankiness from Kris and I wasn’t disappointed. Our driver showed up at seven sharp and the short way to Padang Bai (no traffic on Sunday so it took less than an hour) was spent merrily snoozing in the car.

Our first dive of the day took us around the island of Nusa Penida. Manta Point is a small closed bay enclosed by rocky cliffs. The visibility is low due to waves and surf bringing up sediment from the bottom. Depth here is about 10 meters and there is not much interesting local sea life to see. So what exactly is the attraction of expensive diving in such a place? A cleaning station for manta rays. Sort of an underwater carwash, or rather a fishwash, where big fish come up to be cleaned by little fish. And this place is so predictable, that mantas are present on ninety per cent of the dives. When we descended below surface we just basically hung out at about 10 meters hovering over the surface or in mid water waiting for the big fish. And they didn’t disappoint! It only took about a minute before we spotted our first manta ray of the day. Not a huge one, perhaps only 2 meters across, majestically gliding over the coral, hovering while the little fish did their jobs, then swimming away into the big blue. And another, and another. During the dive we changed our position a couple of times, but stayed within the same area, perhaps the size of a big garden or so. Oh the pity we did not take our underwater camera with us, but here is a link to our dive buddies, Stefan and Nina’s, blog from last year, which contains a lot of manta ray photos from exactly this dive site.

Nina and Stefan's blog - Mantas

After forty minutes or so it was time to get back on board and change our location to Crystal Bay located between Nusa Penida and Nusa Lembongan. On arrival there we were served lunch, still slightly warm, consisting of a variety of delicious stuff: rice, shredded spicy chicken, fried tofu, samosas, fried fish, roasted coconut and two different salads. A type of Indonesian bento box. An hour surface interval and it was back into water for Kris’s most challenging dive to date. Because Crystal Bay is located between two islands and there is nothing further down until Australia, it has very strong sea currents and rather chilly water. Well… when they told us 20-22 Celsius I figured cold, but in fact my dive computer registered a temperature of 25 degrees. So not so cold after all. This is a place to go spotting for Mola Mola. Gigantic fish that look like head with fins. Unfortunately luck wasn’t with us this time, molas not being in season, and we did not see one. But the dive site is still great with lots of interesting small and medium stuff to be seen. And lucky for us, Kris got to see her first shark: a woebegone shark. Funny stuff is, she did not realize this was a shark, until I told her on the boat after the dive, and then got quite excited about checking off a sighting of another underwater species. Woebegone looks a bit like a big catfish and is very docile, so no surprising the missus didn’t think it was a shark.

We popped back on the boat and headed back to Panag Bai for our transfer. Some final formalities: logbooks, paying and we were on our merry but tired way back to Sanur. Diving here was quite expensive for me, though a fellow diver from Australia was going on how cheap it was. A package of 4 dives for two people with equipment rental and transfers cost us $440, which comes out to $55 per dive. From my experience diving $20-$35 was rather standard in a package, but apparently this is by no means the most expensive place to dive on Earth.

We were back in Sanur before 4 PM so with still some time left headed to our local beach and souvenir market. Didn’t get much sun as the shadows were already getting pretty long, only about an hour’s worth. We did do our souvenir shopping, though mostly at a store, not at the shops at the beach. There was only one tired looking guy selling jewelry who seemed to just be happy to sell anything, so we were able to bargain a good price on some trinkets. Others, perhaps due to prime location at the beach, stuck to their inflated prices and didn’t seem interested in haggling. Ten to twenty per cent was all you could haggle down with lame excuses like telling us that the price they bought the product was only 50 cents lower than the final price they were offering. Right… and the same product at the store we finally bought it had a lower opening price. Moral of the story: NEVER buy into the stories of sellers. They will try to woo you and swoon you with their said stories, at the same time trying to rip you off. From my time in Egypt I learned that you should bargain any price down at least fifty per cent (except in more regular stores). If you’re good, more. On one occasion , I bargained a lapis lazuli cat (semi precious stone) down from $100 to $7. But that’s rare.

Kite flying is a popular sport in Sanur

On the way back from the beach we stopped once again at The Cameng for some food. This place has turned out to be our regular eating spot. We didn’t even want to try anything else. Food is so nicely presented and so yummy: why would you?

Road tripping

 

A break was needed in the middle of four days of watersports. A sharp departure was provided by a day long Bali road trip, which we arranged through the hotel with the driver who brought us from the airport, Jaga. On the first day we we approached on the beach by several other drivers/guides offering us similar services, but we figured we’ll go with someone we already know, with an added security that he was under contract from the hotel. The price 450,000 rupiah (about $50 at the time of writing) covered 10 hours of his time, all petrol, parking fees and all the entrances except for the most expensive Barong dance. For the money pinchers, you can bargain the price down on a beach to 300,000 but keep in mind that you’ll have to pay all the parking and entrance fees which will add up to about 100,000 extra for two people. And save our first full day, we also had the luxury of not having to wake up so early as he was to pick us up at 9 in the morning. So we lounged a bit before breakfast and after, and then we hit the road.

From the beginning it was to be an interesting trip, as it turned out that Jaga barely spoke English. Somehow we didn’t catch that fact on the way from the airport. We went to see a traditional Balinese Barong dance first. Saying dance doesn’t really do it justice. It’s actually a theatrical play with music, portraying a meeting between some government officials who are accosted in the forest by an evil spirit and then a great fight ensues. Quoting the missus “a surreal experience”. Despite a program written in really bad English, for the most part you have absolutely no bloody idea what is going on. Some strange creatures clicking their jaws, strange women doing stranger things with their eyes, man with their faces painted doing weird dancing, even a moment where it looked like a guy was masturbating a monkey with something coming out of… you get the jist. It turned out that it was the monkey’s tail, and the watery substance was supposed to be its blood. Surreal, yes. Funny, yes. Worth seeing: absolutely.

A traditional Balinese painting in the process of being made.
Claimed time to finish: 3 months.
Opening asking price 30 million rupees ($3300) for a finished piece.

From there things got a bit irritating, fortunately for a while. In a traditional Turkish/Egyptian style, we spent the next hour and a half being taken to see “traditional Balinese art” in the form of a: silver shop, a painting shop and a woodcarver shop. I appreciate the arts and all, but since we’re already paying the driver above the market rate for the day trip, he could’ve at least saved us the overpriced tourist traps. Silver shop: bloody hell! Upon entrance you are greeted with: “Special for you our friend. Today only, special discount, everything 80% off.” Sounds good right? Well… if not that a simple silver bangle at a normal price was $330!!! Even with a discount that was $66. Now, I’m not an expert on jewelry, but it seems a bit pricey considering there is actually no artwork that goes into making one. Nice intricate earrings… don’t even bother. The missus who is a great fan of jewelry just turned around on her heel and left. Same story repeated in the painting shop and a woodcarver shop. The thing is, there were hundreds of those around, but we got a feeling that we were taken to the priciest tourist ones. High prices including a hefty kickback to the driver. Sorry Bob. Such tricks don’t work with us.

We were slightly irritated at this point as we headed to the monkey forest located in Ubud, the cultural capital in Bali. Now, this would be a fun part for most people, except that I absolutely hate monkeys. Dirty, filthy, ugly creatures. Makes me want to put a baseball bat to their heads. Or eat fresh monkey brains, Singapore style. Still, a beautiful temple complex surrounded by a lush forest has a tendency to calm the nerves.

With moods still a bit dark, we insisted on break for lunch. Jaga insisted half the way that we eat later and an “all you can eat buffet” for a “very good price”. Trying to explain that we are trying to count the calories because we’re big was like talking to a wall. “Oh Bart, you big. You eat a lot. Good price for you. You eat more”. Looking daggers at him finally worked so we went to eat something locally. Babi gulling, a suckling pig, was recommended by him on the way from the airport, and that’s just what we went for. Yum! Any guilty conscience of eating a baby pig torn from its mother’s teet disappeared the moment I sank my teeth into it’s tender juicy flesh. Hey, I, a Homo Sapiens, am after all the apex predator, right?

Time was passing quickly, so we charged on. The next stop, rice terraces. Something that we meant to see in the Philippines, but didn’t due to awful typhoon floods. Amazing views which you can judge for yourselves below. We didn’t go trekking due to lack of time and energy, but given time do so.

    

Next stop, a coffee and cocoa plantation. A garden mostly filled with mandarin trees (which we got a fill of), with on occasional coffee and cocoa tree. Here finally Jaga showed off some of his guiding skills showing us a variety of fruits and plants and doing his best to explain their purpose. This is also a place where I stepped in horse shit, a natural fertilizer used by farms. And a place where we finally got to try really shitty coffee, Kopi Luwak. For those who missed the pun, Kopi Luwak, is world’s most expensive coffee, fetching prices of $400-$1000 per kilo. It is harvested from… civette shit. What the hell is a civette and why is coffee in its shit you might ask. Civettes live on coffee farms where they freely climb the trees and pick only the tastiest coffee fruit (the bean still inside). They digest the fruit, while the bean goes undigested through them. Undigested, but not unchanged. The gastric juices of the civette (tree cat by the way), soften the coffee bean, stripping it of much of its original bitterness and acidity. The excrement is then picked up by the farmers, washed with cold and hot water to leave the beans clean (I hope), then dried, roasted and voila! You got Kopi Luwak. For 50,000 rupees $6) you get to try a cup. And I must say: yum, earthy, musky, and all the other adjectives used by commercials. Still… I’m not sure I’m willing to pay $25 for a 60 gram bag enough for six coffees.

This has got to be the best picture that my budding photographer wife has ever taken of me. I just gotto Photoshop the coffee grinds from my nose. Thanks hon.

 

Enjoying Kopi Luwak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time running out we headed to see the Bali volcano. Mist surrounding it gave it a surreal look, like something out of a Tolkien novel, but then again made it damn difficult to get our tourist shots in. We headed back with our final stop being a Hindu temple in Denpasar. A quiet time, all ceremonies over we checked out something that looked a bit like a market after closing. Plastic stalls, chairs and beach mats placed all around, with an occasional rice offerings thrown around. But hey, I got to play some musical instruments for free too.

We got back to our hotel around 7 PM. A day well spent, although we weren’t so certain of it at the beginning. Jaga turned out to be a nice guy as we initially took him for, if a bit samey like other hawkers on the street. Another meal at of favorite restaurant The Cameng closed out the night nicely.

Underwater history and a land of smiles

 

Our rest days are coming to an end with earlier and earlier wake ups. Yesterday I was able to convince Wolfgang of Waterworx Diving to give us an extra 15 minutes to have our breakfast before we were picked up to go diving at 7:15 in the morning. Why so early you might ask? USS Liberty is located off Tulamben which is some good 3 hours from Sanur. The road was partly spent snoozing in the car, at least until we got to Padang Bai where the dive center is located. We picked up our equipment there and there headed off further north to Tulamben. Waterworx Diving was recommended to us by Stefan and Nina, our German dive buddies from Sabang Beach. In fact all of diving here in Bali is bloody expensive, partially due to the distances (3 hours by car to Tulamben, 1 hour by car plus 1 hour by boat to Nusa Pendida). Probably due to other “Indonesian-specific” factors too. Everything seems to be quite expensive here, save the food.

We arrived in Tulamben at around 10 and prepared for our first dive immediately. We got 5mm wetsuits from Waterworx. This was the first time in life, despite hundreds and hundreds of dives behind my belt, that I got to dive in such a thick, brand new suit. And it was the first time in my life that I needed to tack on 10kg worth of weights to comfortably go down. The buoyancy of this thing is incredible (well… so is the buoyancy of my belly fat). Getting into water was fun to begin with. It was Krysia’s first challenging shore entry. Big pebbled beach, strong surf, big waves. Hard not to trip and break your legs. Our first dive took us around the wreck, exploring 50 years of coral and sponge growth on it. Our divemaster, Komang, spotted one potato grouper, but this dive was about the wreck itself and seeing nature at work, rather than any big stuff. Liberty is huge, 120 meters long, broken up into pieces, first by Japanese torpedoes in 1945, then by a volcanic eruption that pushed it off to sea in 1963. Getting out of the water was much easier.

An hour surface interval resulted in a mediocre lunch during which I once again netted a soup. I’m getting a bit tired of this game. I order rice, nasi, and I get rice flooded with salty water. Come on people! At least I was able to find a store with some rice chips and chocolates for the ride back. After lunch it was back in the water for the second dive when we got to explore the inside of the wreck. Well… inside is saying a bit much. As I wrote, the wreck is completely broken up, so there are no enclosed spaces besides the engine room, which we didn’t explore due to Krysia’s inexperience. Giant clams, nudibranches and bunch of other small stuff that can excite the beginner diver. I was just enjoying the view of the wreck. Sadly I can’t post any underwater photos due to lack of underwater camera this time, but check out Tulamben dive site on google to get the idea what you can see there.

We headed back the same winding road that we came and got to be stuck in traffic because of preparations for Indonesian independence day. And once again the smiling faces were everywhere. You stick your head outside of the car window and you hear a chorus of hellos and Good Day. Balinese can be truly wonderful people if they are not trying to hussle you into buying their trinkets. Truly a wonderful journey. We got back after 7 PM.

Happy smiles on a scooter

While chewing your own fingers

Check out the girls in the upper left corner modeling for the white boy

And the boys doing “I love Heavy Metal” instead of “Hang Ten”

Smile for the camera cutie

Back in Sanur, we checked out the restaurant next door for the nicest presentation meal in Bali yet. True, it was mie goreng and nasi goreng again, but both the flavors and presentation were worth every penny. Okay, it’s not the most exciting of all meals, but what the hell: WE LOVE FRIED NOODLES AND RICE!

    

Mie goreng                                           Nasi goreng

Catching waves

 

One relaxing day has a tendency to lead into another. After our lovely American breakfast (it’s not that often you get pork here, so gotto have me some bacon) and morning routine, I went around looking for transport to Kuta beach. 11:45 was still ways away so with full agreement from the missus, we decided to take advantage of the sun and the hotel pool to get in some sun time as well as some water time. I am a quick burner but slow tanner, and since our sun opportunities are quickly ending on this honeymoon it was high time to get brown for our post-honeymoon wedding photo shoot. Couple hours in the sun was just what the doctor ordered. In the meantime I got an answer from Odysseys Surfing School in Kuta and they would pick us up for our lesson at 2PM today. Fantastic. No need to rush, no need worry.

Becoming masters of the waves sounded like such a good idea before the honeymoon. The pictures of Big Kahuna coming to mind, surfing films like Point Break bringing images to my mind of my hair flapping in the wind as I’m carving the top of the wave, going through a crashing tunnel, doing twist and turns. But first we were deposited at the school and with more than an hour before the lesson, we went to the beach. Kuta beach is wonderfully large with beautiful sand and crashing waves. Toned beach bodies abound, including the types that shouldn’t really be there. Krysia wasn’t too happy to be in a close proximity of a lobster colored gigolo in his 50s, in lovely skin tight orange speedos trying to expose his family jewels to all the passing girls. It’s all part of the fun girl. Sitting on the beach I was surprised how different it was from being advertised. Perhaps it’s the lack of tourists due to European crisis and Ramadan, but the beach is much nicer, cleaner and less crowded than we thought. Not that I’ve regrets about booking our oasis of tranquility in Sanur: our hotel is absolutely phenomenal, but I think given time, we’ll try to make it out here for one more day. Kuta beach reminds me very much of Waikiki beach in Hawaii, perhaps due to the presence of surfers, or maybe it’s the sand or the crashing waves. To sum up: it’s nice. Come and visit.

Our surfing lesson began innocently and fun enough. On dry land, learning how to lie on the board, how to paddle and finally: how to stand up. Piece of cake, right? It is while the board is firmly pressed into soft sand. “Are you regular of goofy?” was the question referring to our surfing stance. How the hell should I know? I chose regular, which perhaps was my first mistake. The next two and a half hours were a harrowing exercise in pain, drinking gallons of salt water and frustration. For me that is, because Kris with her much better sense of balance, managed to get up and STAY UP quite a few times, including one full run to the shore. I didn’t manage a single clean run or in fact even staying up for more than a second. True, I almost got up a few times, only to fall overboard almost immediately. My legendary problems with balance were visible even when lying on the board. If I’m wobbly with my belly on the board, what can I expect with my feet down. One thing I learned very well though: always hang on to your board and have it to your side. One moment of frustration when I just threw the board in front of me, the sea gods took their revenge by sending a wave that immediately smacked the board right in my face and threw me in what the surfers call a “washer”, spinning around underwater.

With all of the above said, it was worth trying and still some fun. And it was nice to see wifey doing so well. I don’t know if I’ll try it again, not until I get much smaller. After the lesson I was so sore I could barely move my shoulders. One thing: I didn’t give up and took more tries than anyone on the beach. That was probably the source of my pain too, with my shoulders completely giving out on the last few runs. We headed back to Sanur for some much deserved dinner and beers. Couple days ago Jaga recommended Balinese fried duck to us, so dedek was on the plate. Not bad, although Bazyliszek in Warsaw does a much better one. But for all you duck lovers, give it a try.

Blissfully Bali blissful bliss

 

Nothing like a goodnight sleep in a football sized bed to make the missus happy. Though even for her the bed was just… too big. I thought I’d never hear these words in my life, but apparently there is a bed size limit for my wife. Bali king (roughly 2.5 meters across) is big enough to stretch Jesus-crucifixion style, or perhaps do the running man, and the other person still can lie blissfully unaware of the other person. An early morning swim for me in the lovely pool worked up quite an appetite and it was off to breakfast. Finally some real choice, good continental buffet, American or Indonesian breakfast. For perfection they should thrown in Irish with freshly baked scones and black and white pudding.

My early exploration yesterday paid off and we headed to a nice and cleaner part of the Sanur beach. The sand here is wonderful, it’s something between this fine white sand of the Caribbean and the gravel beaches of Mediterranean. Crashing out on a beach for a few hours trying not to get too baked was just what the doctor ordered. Although the sun’s directly overhead, the sea breeze is significant making for a perfect beach weather. Absolutely perfect for just lying there while sipping cold Bali Cider. Water’s the temperature of lukewarm soup, although I was told I shouldn’t expect that when diving. Apparently the sea currents bring in a lot of cold water and Tulamben dives can be around 20 Celsius. Brr… I guess it will be a long wetsuit for me.

We stayed on the beach until about 3pm, figured no use in getting well done on the first day here. Getting haggled on the beach wasn’t too bad here. Locals of course want your business, but it’s a bit more laid back. One guy, Komang, just sat with us on the beach, showed us his folder, where he could take us by car and what to show us and tried to wait us out until we made a decision. But we hung on tough. It’s the same in the stores: everyone wants you to look at their trinkets, but in the end, it isn’t so in your face like we got in the Philippines. A bit of “I give you nice price, low season yeah?” and then “Ok, you come back later then”.

Hotel welcomed us with a freshly made up room, mineral water and a nice, long, hot shower. No more problems with water pressure we had in the Phillies or the cold water showers in Malaysia. Water is boiling hot and comes at a pressure high enough to bore through an elephant’s ass. Of course being in such a nice hotel makes you a bit lazy, so we decided to dine in the hotel restaurant. I can’t say enough about Asian food. I’ve known and loved it for more than 20 years now, but being here again brings it a new dimension. Nasi goreng is lovely Malaysian style (with pungent seafood sauce and little dried mackerels) and Indonesian style with meat on top on a much milder sauce stirred in the fried rice. Even Kris is slowly starting to get used to fishy flavors. She’s scarfing the prawn crackers like there’s no tomorrow, and they’re more seafoody than the original sea cockroaches. Beer happy hour: three large beers for the price of two and a half proved a winner with us. Unfortunately alcohol is quite expensive here as in Malaysia (darn Muslim countries…) so any happy deal makes us happy alcoholics.

Crashing early seemed the right thing to do so after dinner and watching some Olympics (Go USA! Go Poland!) we drifted off into the dreamland.

The Dream of Relaxation coming true

Waking up for the final time in Kuala Lumpur is a great thing when the outlook says A WEEK IN BALI. Our Citin Hotel turned out a decent breakfast, finally a place where I didn’t have to eat cereal from a hamster-sized bowl. Since our flight was in the afternoon we had some time for last minute shopping: it’s become a tradition with us than on the day we leave, we see how much currency we have left after paying all our bills and transport and go try to spend it all. The haul today: two pairs of Alladin pants for me and the missus and some stuff for the house. Our backpacks are getting fatter everyday. The place: Sentral Market, where you can get everything your tourist heart desires. It was fortunate that there was a post office nearby and Krysia made a run to in, otherwise we’d be hand delivering our postcards a month from now.We took a bus directly from Puduraya to the LCC terminal at Kuala Lumpur International. The Low Cost Carrier Terminal is actually quite far from the main terminal, about 15 minutes by bus in case any of you travellers wonder if you’re being taken out into the bushes. It’s actually two airports with two separate runways. The LCCT is very well equipped with restaurants (we finally partook of Malaysian fast food MarryBrown which was basically a chicken join with Malaysian flavors), cafes (including Starbucks), shops, duty free (complete ripoff, prices at twice the Warsaw duty free level) and all the other standard amenities including free Wi-Fi which barely works (as everywhere else in Malaysia).

Although I'm not proud of it, we managed to spend our last ringgits on a box of donuts from Dunkin Donuts. Oh what the hell! We're both losing weight anyways. :)

We took off from this land at 15:45 local time on the next leg of our journey.

Bali. From the start I can just feel being more relaxed. The weather in the evening is a balmy 27 Celsius with just a slightest breeze. I booked a week-long package at Mentari Sanur Hotel which included a two-way airport transfer, so upon collecting our check-in luggage we looked for a guy with a sign. Krysia quickly spotted a guy standing with a sign saying “Mr. Bart & Krysia”. So far, a very good beginning. Jaga, our driver, turned out to be a very friendly fellow, who of course can arrange anything that we could want, from diving to white-water rafting, to a case of discounted beer. And of course if we need a driver during our stay, he’s our man. Of course it’s business, but somehow I got a good feeling about this.

Arriving at our hotel we were greeted with our welcome drink, a glass of mixed tropical juice with a lime decoration. I’m sure that Krysia will post a photo sooner or later. First impression of our hotel: tranquil setting, we have a room right by the pool, coconut palms and other trees growing on premises, geckos running on the walls, frogs jumping on the ground. Jungle paradise. Our room is very nice, maybe a bit run down. Lovely bathroom, HUGE bed (which hopefully means I will not be pushed off of it during the night), a fruit basket. All’s good in paradise.

So nice, we’re just enjoying our evening beer in the restaurant, chilling and updating our blog. Tomorrow: a lazy day. Beach, food, fun.

Jungle run

 We got to sleep in today, getting up almost at 8 am. With an afternoon departure to KL and only a jungle trek planned, we could afford to do so and we all know how much Kris likes her beauty sleep. And it was the first time since Japan when I had a really hot shower. Almost scalding, since I like extreme temperatures in general (I like my beer so cold it shatters the enamel on my teeth and my coffee so hot that it melts my intestinal tract). Breakfast was nothing to write home about. The famed KRS special turned out to be two badly scrambled eggs with pale toast, a lukewarm hot dog and a saucer worth of baked beans. But c'est la vie. We packed up to go on our trek, but wifey insisted on leaving her bag behind: she did carry more than me (surprise surprise), although to give her some credit, she was carrying our shampoo, my deodorant and my toothbrush.

Jungle boy ...

Our trek to Mt. Pachibumbum (I can’t actually remember the name of it…) began at around half past nine with weather calm, partly sunny: a perfect hiking weather. As already mentioned, Cameron Highlands enjoys a much different weather than the rest of Malaysia, due to its high altitude (at about 1000 meters above the sea level). The temperature was probably a balmy 25 Celsius with relatively low humidity and a nice breeze going on. Our hike took us through a rather rough terrain: moss covered tree roots, slippery rocks, mud, moss pits and probably my least favorite: wet clay, slippery as hell and a nightmare to get off your shoes and pants. Around us, a jungle, but a different type than experienced on Sabah. A mixed type of a forest with very occasional palm trees and more temperate type of trees, even with few conifers mixed in. We followed trail number 10 which was takes you to the top of the mountain, unfortunately it wasn't that well marked. Krysia seemed to remember the instructions from yesterday, but I didn't pay any attention (as usual) so at times it was a bit of a blind run: “Do we go left or right? You don't know? Why don't you know? Ok, lets go right. Why not? Well if you think we should go left than lets go left”. But after about three hours we were rewarded by reaching the top with magnificent views of the highlands.

... meets a jungle girl

What comes up must come down, and so did we. But contrary to the belief, the way down isn't always easier. With at least three paths we could follow (and later on another fork in the road to make it four) we chose one that seemed most downward. A logical assumption that it should be the quickest way down. Unfortunately it seems we chose a path used by water during seasonal floods, i.e. a river bed, filled with wet rocks and slippery clay, often with sharp drop-offs and meter deep holes. Once we were out of there, it was a path through bushes, tall grasses and short palm trees, ferns with thorns, a tangle of few hundred year old tree roots and sometimes what was worst: fallen trees too high to climb over with a 50 meter drop on one side, a vertical wall on the other and an opening underneath through which we literally had to crawl through. My honey wanted a jungle trek, well... she got a jungle trek. Although at one point when she slid down the path and was hanging ass down over a sharp drop hanging on to some roots I think even she thought “Darn, maybe I should've gone to Starbucks instead”. Finally we popped out of the jungle and into civilization a bit after 1 pm. It was still ways to go before we reached the main drag in Tanah Rata, but we were happy, satisfied and hungry (not to mention dirtier that shit shoveling stable boys).  


Finally at the top

Hunger was easily taken care of by returning to Kumar restaurant. And once again, Kris asked for “NOT spicy dish”. Truth be told, I though that lamb with cashews curry was quite mild, but her tongue was still burning. But their naans and tandoori meats are simply phenomenal and quite beyond description. De-lip smacking-licious! And halfway through our honeymoon, the probiotics Kris is taking are working beautifully. She hasn't had a single major belly problem yet. Yesterday she asked me innocently “Do you really think it's the probiotics that are helping me?” and I though of all the instances when even in Western Europe she can get a Delhi belly from eating eggs, fruits or in fact anything. Yes! Probiotics work, and if this sounds like an advertisement, than consider it so.

With still some time left, we stopped at a cafe for some drinks. Thing to remember: in Asia they really do love sugar. If something COULD be sweet, consider that it will be. If something SHOULD be sweet, assume it will have a pound of sugar. I'm not a big fan of sugary in my liquids, but I guess one can get used to it. Going back Kris went to pick up her bag from the guesthouse and I went to get snacks for the road: some more cut fruits (mango and dragonfruit did us just fine) and a couple Chang beers since I finally found a place where they weren't a total ripoff. Our bus to KL by Unititi (please read it out loud a few times, ha ha ha) was already waiting and a few minutes past four we departed on a bus which wasn't supposed to exist.  Malaysian buses of the VIP type are really ultra comfortable. It's like traveling business class on the airplane. Seats three to a row, wide, reclining with footrests, blazing AC and blazing sentimental or funky Indian music. We took a break midway, a perfect opportunity to have a snack. Pau (same thing as bow in China) with curried beef and curried chicken hit the spot as a road trip food. Arriving at Puduraya station, we picked up our luggage (still intact) and went across the street to our Citin Hotel: close and not too expensive. Nothing special, but can't beat the convenience. Unfortunately there was a movie on at the hotel which meant we didn't get to leave the rest of the evening. Oh well, I'd already seen the Petronas Towers at night. Good night.

W wielkiej dżungli,potężnej dżungli ...

Na ten dzień,zaplanowana została druga wycieczka,w program w której wchodziły między innymi wizyta w wiosce zamieszkanej przez rdzenną ludność,trekking przez dżunglę oraz prezentacja największego kwiatu na ziemi – raflezji. Jak na złość okazało się że akurat teraz roślina nie kwitnie,więc i wycieczki nie opłaca się robić. Niezrażeni,postanowiliśmy samodzielnie pobuszować w zieleni. Dostaliśmy 'namiary' na niezbyt wymagajacy, 2-godzinny szlak. I teraz pytanie czysto logiczne: mając na uwadze nasze wcześniejsze doświadczenia w zdobywaniu informacji oraz fakt że są one podawane odwrotnie proporcjonalnie do prawdy – ile trwał nasz trekking i jak bardzo byliśmy zmęczeni?

Zaczęło się – jak to zwykle bywa – niewinnie.Jako że szlak miał być dobrze oznaczony,szukaliśmy początku jakieś 20 minut. W końcu, po przejściu przez kilka prywatnych ogródków,udało nam się dostać na wybraną trasę. Miło,łatwo, sympatycznie. Przez gąszcz drzew nadal było widać pobliskie domy. Niemniej jednak była to namiastka przygody, więc już się uśmiechałam od ucha do ucha. Pogoda,jako że jest to teren górzysty, była idealna. Ciepło,słonecznie,ale co jakiś czas orzeźwiał nas zimny powiew wiatru. Dość szybko doszliśmy do miejsca gdzie szlak miał się rozdzielić na nasz i inny. Inny był,a nasz...miał zakaz wstępu. Grzecznie przestrzegając przepisów, poszliśmy więc w drugą stronę.Szybko jednak okazało się, że ścieżka zaczyna schodzić w dół – a nasz szlak miał prowadzić na pobliską górę. Z dołu, zobaczyliśmy że 'zamkniętym' szlakiem jednak jacys śmiałkowie szli.Postanowiliśmy zawrócić i spróbować. Znak musiał chyba tam stać od bardzo dawna (swoją droga był troche zardzewiały i porośniety mchem), bo wkrótce zobaczylismy dalsze drogowskazy, które upewnily nas że idziemy w dobrym kierunku – czyli pod górę. Pod bardzo wysoką i stromą górę. W tym momencie łatwizna się skończyła. Ścieżka przemieniła się w schody ułożone z gałęzi,oczywiscie o róznej wielkości,wysokości i szerokości. Sprawy nie ulatwiał fakt,iż wszystko było pokryte mokrym mchem i liściami – poślizg i bolesny upadek,lub też ześlizgnięcie się z wąziutkiego przejścia ,było tylko kwestią czasu.(co oczywiście udało mi się zrobić). No cóż...chciałam przygody to ją miałam.

Po dwóch godzinach,doczłapaliśmy się na sam szczyt. Widok niewątpliwie był wart wysiłku. Chwila chwały i czas schodzić. Nie chcieliśmy eksperymentować ze ścieżkami z drugiej strony góry (nie mielismy zbyt dużo czasu),więc zgodnie z wczesniejszymi sugestiami obraliśmy pobliski szlak,który prowadził w dół i w połowie miał się łączyć z nasza pierwszą drogą. Początek był prosty,aby już po kilku minatach okazało się że ścieżki praktycznie nie widać,a my przedzieramy się przez gąszcze,haszcze i inne zielone,wysokie szcze.... natrafiliśmy na strumień,stwierdziliśmy więc że pójdziemy wzdłuż niego, w końcu woda zawsze 'schodzi' najprostszą drogą w dół. Po 30 minutach zobaczyliśmy coś co przypominało rozwidlenie. Prosto, zaczynała się w miarę normalna ścieżka. W prawo był znak wskazujacy trasę do naszej miejscowości. Trasę prowadzącą praktycznie pionowo w dół w jeszcze większe i wyższe trawy. W pewnym momencie czułam się jak Alicja w labiryncie. Postanowilismy zawierzyć w oznaczenia 'drogowe' i przedrzeć się w głąb,w poszukiwaniu scieżki. Nasz (a właściwie Bartka,który ma jakiś 6 zmysł) wybór okazał się trafny i po niedługim czasie wróciliśmy na szlak. Nie ułatwiało to jednak sprawy. Ścieżka najwyraźniej brała udział w jakimś projekcie konserwacji natury,bo co na nią spadło tak leżało. Zaczeło się więc przeskakiwanie,przechodzenie,przepełzanie i okrążanie. Wspominałam już że było ślisko,stromo i wąsko? Moje buty i spodnie przybrały kolor błotnego brązu,a bluzka i plecak mchowej zieleni.

Była to jednak jedna z najfajniejszych wędrówek jakie kiedykolwiek miałam. Kiedy cali umorusani,spoceni i zmęczeni wrócilśmy na główna drogę do naszej miejscowości (tak udało nam się wydostać z gąszczu) czułam niemałą satysfakcję. Nagrodą był przepyszny indyjski obiad. Jako że wyprawa zajęła nam dwa razy dłużej,dość szybko się zebraliśmy i udaliśmy się na stacje autobusową. Autokar 'widmo' już czekał i wydawał się dość realny.Kiedy się wygodnie usadowiłam w siedzeniu,byłam pewna że nie śnię ;)

Cameron Highlands

Cameron Higlands okazało się strzałem w dziesiątkę. Mogę z całą odpowiedzialnością polecić to miejsce każdemu miłśnikowi natury,przygody i adrenaliny.

Nigdy wcześniej nie słyszałam o tym regionie. Zupełnie przypadkiem,natrafiłam na zdjęcia znajomej (a więc jednak facebook ma jakieś pozytywy:) i stwierdziłam że wygląda to na całkiem fajne miejsce. Ponieważ z przyczyn logistycznych mogliśmy tam zostać tylko na jedną noc,postanowiliśmy wyjechać z samego rana. Trochę obawialiśmy się o dostępność biletów,jednak okazało się że z racji sezonu bardzo nie-turystycznego, nie było najmniejszego problemu z kupieniem biletów tuż przed. Nasze główne bagaże zostawiliśmy w przchowalni na dworcu autobusowym.(2.5 zł. Za bagaż, za dzień to śmieszna cena za oszczędzenie kręgosłupa) i zaopatrzeni tylko w niezbędne minimum wsiedliśmy do autokaru. WOW!WOW!WOW! Jak nie wiele do szczęścia potrzeba – autobus właściwie przypominał biznes klasę w samolocie. Tylko 3 siedzenia w rzędzie,duuużo miejsca do wygodnego usadzenia czterech liter,prawie że do poziomu odchylane oparcie i podnóżek. Nikt nikgo(patrz ja i Mąż) nie popycha,nie szturcha,nie drażni.Zamiast przewidywanych 4 godzin,jechaliśmy tylko 3. Same plusy.A to był dopiero początek dnia.

Tanah Rata – miejscowość w której się zatrzymaliśmy ma niewątpliwie duży urok.Dość dziwne, bo jest to typowo turystyczna miejscowość,składająca się głównie z miejsc noclegowych,biur podróży i restauracji, a takich miejsc staram się unikać. Być może jest to kwestia chłodniejszego klimatu i przepięknych,zielonych gór tonących w mistycznej mgle. Możliwe też, że dzieje się tak dlatego,iż lokalni chcą jak najlepiej ugościć wszystkich przybyszów,a nie tylko zedrzeć z nich kasę.

Powyzsze trzy zdjecia:Cameron Highlands

Zaraz po przyjeździe zameldowaliśmy się w naszym pensjonacie,skąd od razu pojechaliśmy na półdniową wycieczkę. Nasz przewdonik – Velu,Hindus z pochodzenia – podjechał po nas lekko rozklekotanym jeepem i wraz z drugą parą zaczeliśmy zwiedzanie. Pierwsza była plantacja herbaty (to co przykuło moją uwagę na zdjęciach znajomej). Hektary labiryntów pomiędzy zielonymi krzakami.Wrażenie robi niesmowite.Velu stwierdził,iż mimo że jest to największy producent czarnego napoju w całej Malezji,to jakość jest bardzo kiepska,głównie przez fakt zbiorów mechanicznych. My jednak kupiliśmy małą paczuszkę na spróbowanie,coby sobie samemu wyrobić zdanie. Następnym punktem programu była góra Birchang i mechowy las. Pomieszanie scenerii z Jurassic Park i Avatara. Grube,powyginane w najróźniejsze kształty gałęzie,porośnięte mchem podłoże i całe mnóstwo najdziwniejszych roślin. To dopiero frajda dla takiego mieszczucha jak ja. Tak mi się spodobało,że postanowiłam koniecznie wybrać się na dłuższy trekking następnego dnia. Ostatnie dwie 'atrakcje' o ile bardzo sympatyczne,były mało przygodowe. Farma motyli i truskawek.

Dzunglowe korony.

Nasz powoz.

Gdy wróciliśmy do Tanah Rata była najwyższa pora na smaczną kolację, Tym razem odwiedziliśmy indyjską knajpką,która de facto oprócz dań z południowych Indii,serwowała jeszcze kuchnię chińską i malezyjską. Jak to dobrze że zamawiając,poprosiłam aby moje danie nie było zbyt ostre.Dzięki temu 'wypaliłam' sobie tylko pół buzi i (z krótkimi przerwami na orzeżwiające bananowe lassi) dałam radę zjeść całą porcję.

Wieczór spędziliśmy na poszukiwaniu autobusu powrotnego. W internecie i na plakatch jak byk było napisane że jest autobus do Kuala Lumpur o 16.00. Niestety,nigdzie nie mogliśmy dostać biletów. Albo dane biuro ich nie sprzedawało,albo uparcie twierdziło że tak naprawdę jest to autobus widmo i nie istnieje. Nie zrażeni (bardzo zależało nam właśnie na tym autobusie z przyczyn logistycznych), zrobiliśmy kilka okrążeń po miejscowości, licząć że w końcu ktoś zlamie pakt milczenia i wyjawi nam,jak dostać się na pokład. Kropla drąży skałę – 2 godziny później,w jednym z biur właśnie otworzyli sprzedaż! Sukces! Długo nie czekając,kupiliśmy bilety,dziesięć razy upewniając się czy aby na pewno ten autobus istnieje i odjedzie.