Indonesia: Bollywood Sunsets

I doubt many of you are morbid enough to ever consider what your final thoughts might be if you were drowning. It's certainly not something that had crossed my mind before. If I'd had to hazard a guess, I would've figured they'd be very emotional. How wrong was I? During a panic-filled moment when I lost control out in the Flores Sea alone, I was surprised to find my 'dying' thought could have been: "Great, I'm drowning. This is HIGHLY inconvenient. Imran's fro still isn't finished and he'll be made to cut his hair for my funeral." More about that later, though!

While I was busy seeing the bright white light mingled with curly hair in the open waters, Imran's experience of Indonesia was centering on his head too. Everywhere he went, people pointed to his hair and laughed. When it was a big, fluffy fro they stared in rapture and offered him weed; when it was slicked back they yelled: "Mister Bollywood! You, Bollywood! Hrithik Roshan!" Those who aren't well versed in the riveting happenings of Bollywood don't need to know more - suffice to say that Imran was not best pleased about the comparisons no matter how much I tried to reassure him that Hrithik Roshan is considered a bit of a stud. "He's still got geeky Bollywood hair, though," he'd reply glumly.

But that sullen frown always turned upside down into a smile whenever the sun came up or dipped low because if there's one term that Imran does enjoy having applied to him, it's 'Sunset/Sunrise Junkie.' This is the name given to people obsessed with taking photos of said sunshine activities and he falls well and truly into that category. Indonesia was home to the most spectacular we've seen so Hrithik - sorry, I mean Afro Man - was in his element.

Our time in Indonesia began in Jogjakarta city on the island of Java. From Jogja we drove east to Bromo before skipping over to the island of Bali. We then spent some sun-drenched days on Gilli Trewangan, part of the Lombok group of islands, and finished with a cruise around several of the more eastern islands. Sounds like a lot of islands, right? Well, I can safely tell you that we saw relatively nothing of Indonesia when you consider it's is made up of over 17,500 islands and a mahoosive 6,000 of them are inhabited. The country covers a distance from one end to the other similar to London to Baghdad, and it wouldn't be too much of an exaggeration to say it has almost as many different customs, traditions, sub-cultures and individual character within that space. That's why Indonesia can't be defined or explained after just a two-week trip; we barely scratched the surface of what this country's all about. We didn't even bother hoping to understand it and just tried to enjoy the ride instead. I say 'tried to enjoy' because, to be honest, Indonesia didn't always make it easy.

How can I sum this up? Basically, we had a love-hate thing going on with Indonesia; a Marmite situation, if you will. We hated the cities and loved the remote areas. We couldn't wait to get out of some places but didn't want to leave others. Indonesia is a big, stifling mess but at the same time home to the most wondrous natural beauty one can imagine, rich with legends, folklore and myths. By the time we came here, we were exhausted both from fitting so much into our schedule and from the effort required to deal with the Asian cultural difference. Indonesia was therefore simultaneously the best and worst place we could have come to - its many beaches and resorts were perfect for doing jack-all but its chaotic disorder tired us out even more.

Indonesia is the fourth most populated country on the planet with approximately 250 million bodies vying for space. It's loud, brash and suffocating; we didn't like the stares, the hassle and the lack of personal space. The fact that we got wound up by all that annoyed us a great deal as it scuppers our plans for a long trip around India - if we can't handle Indonesia then we sure as hell can't handle the motherland which is ten times more overwhelming!

We decided not to go to the capital, Jakarta, because it apparently epitomises all that we dislike about big cities. Jogjakarta is meant to be a tamer version but if that's the case then Jakarta is probably crazier than we'll ever imagine. Jogja was dirty and a hodgepodge of commotion. Despite the stunning Borobodur temple and delicious nasi goreng (fried rice dish), we couldn't wait to scarper. We were right in the heart of the central hub and main 'tourist' hotspot so this may have lent a lot to the negative elements; however, there were very few tourists around and we received far too much attention for our liking to be a familiar foreign face, so I can only imagine there's a reason that not too many people visit here. There's very little to see or do so most people just visit the two large temples nearby and split.

If there's one generalisation I can make about Indonesia with full confidence it's that every man is a chain smoker. We're all for freedom of choice but it became a literal and constant headache when it was everywhere 24/7. Spending hours in taxis, coaches and mini buses with the windows closed and a driver who's hidden in a haze of fumes can drive even easy-going people like us crazy. We were foolish enough to ask some cabbies to tone it down and were laughed at for making such bizarre suggestions; one mini bus driver told us he'd fall asleep if he didn't smoke and then we'd crash and die! The cigarettes most guys smoke in Indonesia are called kreteks and the tobacco is combined with a spice mixture heavy with pungent cloves, so you can understand why it wasn't an easily-ignored thing.


For that reason then, the twelve hour drive to Bromo was hard going but well worth it when we saw what we came to see. Getting up at 3.30am after a few hours' sleep in the local village, we walked up Mount Penanjakan to see the sun rise over the Mount Bromo volcano. We trudged up the mountain, barely awake, and sat shivering in the darkness until the sky began to lighten. We were so high up that the clouds swirled below us and we were looking at the top part of Bromo sticking out of the mist. And then, the sun peeped out from behind the horizon, slowly at first, before growing and growing in stature until its presence took up the entire horizon. It made me think of a shy kid peering through a doorway, becoming more and more emboldened by each step into the room until he/she commands the attention of everyone watching. Magnificent rays of orange and yellow expanded until they blazed like laser beams across the huge expanse. We just watched in silent awe. The cotton-wool clouds lounged lazily around Bromo which, being an active volcano, intermittently coughed out a little puff of smoke. 'Sensational' doesn't even begin to cover it. We were enthralled by this amazing sight. Later, we walked to the top of Bromo itself, across a field of ash where local men in horses burst through the misty air as the sun beamed down on them. It was a good job we were in a super mood after that sight because we were facing another ten hour drive and ferry crossing to Bali.

All the locals we talked to over our two weeks said that Bali isn't Indonesia. It's so touristy, especially the southern parts, and so different to the rest of the country that it's a separate entity. We could see where they were coming from. It's ridiculously touristy and has a real chav-tastic feel to it but - shockingly - we weren't too bothered by that (as long as we stayed well away from area of Kuta.) At this point in our trip we were desperate for a break; to just chill out on a nice beach and do little else. We needed to recharge our batteries for a few days in order to rev up our engines (oo er) again for the rest of our travels. How can you not relax when you wake up to the sound of the surf outside your hotel room each morning? Just what the doctor ordered. Of course, we could only manage a day of this before we needed an activity and went to visit temples and markets.


A day trip to the area of Ubud, cultural capital of Bali, was called-for. Indonesia is predominantly Muslim but Bali is the Hindu exception. There are a vast number of temples and, although for the worship of Hindu Gods, they're worlds apart in architecture and design from their Indian counterparts. In Ubud especially, the traditional Balinese style is everywhere and this makes for unique, interesting and wonderfully exotic temples. Entrances are always split down the middle and this gate, known as candi bentar, is subject to lots of different legends about its significance, the main ones I heard being part of Hindu lore about the mythical Mount Meru. The most simple reasoning for it is to show the two sides of both human and spirit nature: good and evil. To appease the bad spirits, people make offerings of food and flowers in tiny handmade bamboo baskets every day - you can't walk twenty steps down any street without seeing these pretty little spirit-sweeteners. There are black and white chequered cloths called poleng all over the place to represent this cosmic duality, often draped around big stone carvings of the doorway guardian deities called dvarapala. It was only when we came to Indonesia that we realised I'm seriously obsessed with stone carvings. I love them to the point that my excitement upon seeing one is worryingly over-enthusiastic and my annoyance when Imran doesn't take enough pictures of them is a tad disturbing.

Also in Ubud we went to a local family home. Most people traditionally live in family compounds where there are several different buildings for sleeping, cooking and receiving guests, as well a temple. The home we visited had a civet (or toddycat) animal whose job it was to make Lowak coffee. I've heard about this before but didn't expect to get to see the animal in the flesh. Lowak coffee is one of the most expensive in the world and is basically coffee beans eaten and excreted by the civet. The civet eats the flesh of the coffee berries and the bean passes through the digestive tract whole and often covered by the remaining fleshy layers. It is collected from the civet's poo, cleaned, dried and roasted, and brewed with a less bitter and apparently lovely taste thanks to the enzymes that pass into the bean via the stomach. We had the option to buy a cup but I hate coffee and would be awake for two days with even the merest of sips. Damn, what a shame! Imran just pooh-poohed (haha) the whole idea.



Onwards to Gilli Trewangan then, and another few days of the arduous task of relaxing in the sunshine! The Gilli islands are beautiful, surrounded by tides a multi-shaded range of blue, but in true south east Asian style, the locals think nothing of throwing rubbish everywhere. The water closest to the harbor and the sides of the paths throughout this tiny island are littered with the kind of crap that prevent this place from being the upscale luxury place it has the potential to be. Still, we weren't there to look at the mess as that would be one more task than we intended to do: we were doing the whole 'tourist-resort' thing and that meant doing nothing. We lazed by the sea, the pool, read books, topped up our already-chocolate tans and Imran did a bit of snorkelling. We had massages, sat on the beach under the stars at night smoking sheesha and watched the only method of transport allowed on the island - horse and carriage - clip-clop past every half an hour. We couldn't do an entire holiday like this, nor would we want to, but sometimes having a few days of doing nothing thrown in is a welcome break.

A few days and no more, though, as our explorer hats were itching to be put back on. Time for the highlight of our Indonesian visit: a four day cruise around the islands of Flores, Sabolan, Padar, Komodo, Kelor and Rinca. This was meant to be our Asian version of the Galapagos but it exceeded expectations beyond anything we imagined. What an amazing few days, what an incredible side to Indonesia we got to see; how privileged we are to be in a position to see such untouched, spectacular beauty that hasn't become popular with tourists yet. Most of all, what a perfect way to end our time in this country and leave on a high.

As I've said before, we meet friendly and interesting people on our cruises and this one was no exception. Joining us were three French couples and the four kids they had between them, all members of Jakarta's ex-pat community. French is my favorite language and hearing the accent non-stop for days was just heaven for me, even if the kids did giggle and call me 'Amberger' when I first introduced myself ('Hamburger' in a French accent.) We loved that nickname and Imran and I have actually used it several times since! I can't believe I never thought of it myself. Anyway, I digress.


The kids ranged from the age of two to eleven and it was very interesting to get to know them over the four days. All were sweet as pie but more than that, they were incredibly mature - without losing any of that childish innocence - and aware of everything around them. Imran and I have often talked about the pros and cons of living in different countries with children but at no time before have we actually seen the benefits personified. It would be a mistake to decide only to take a certain path in life when the kids are old enough to remember or appreciate the experience, when the children we met showed that worldly experiences shape their character from the moment they're exposed to them and create a maturity and a lack of the self-centredness a lot of kids have these days. Definitely food for thought...


Whereas the Galapagos is unrivalled for its wildlife and strict conservation, the islands we went to can't be beaten for the amazing marine life. Snorkelling was so awesome I don't even know where to start in describing it. The waters were warm; they were turquoise by the beach and plunged into deep, sapphire blue pools a few metres in. The sun beamed over the shimmering seas, looking like a giant had just crushed a handful of diamonds and blew them over the ocean. Even the shallowest of waters had an abundance of coral and fish to float over. The variety of colours, shapes, sizes and species was countless; like a documentary of the most unique and fascinating things underwater. You would just never think such things existed. Absolutely gorgeous. We shared sea space with manta rays and dolphins; lionfish, starfish, angelfish, 'Finding-Nemo-fish,' schools and schools of every other kind of fish; oddly shaped fish, friendly sharks, molluscs, marine plants and everything else in between!

So how did I end up enjoying the view one minute and saying my final prayer the next? Well, it comes down to the simple fact that I can't swim. For that reason, I snorkel in deep waters with a lifejacket on so I can float without a care in the world. I can just enjoy the underwater spectacle and the only bad thing that happens is my bum sticks out of the water and gets sunburned. Anyway, I happened to be snorkelling without a lifejacket one day because I wasn't too far away from the shore and, as long as I was horizontal, all was ok. Of course, I didn't account for getting water in my mouthpiece. I also didn't account for my inability to be vertical for long while I tried to get it out. So there I was, trying to put the mouthpiece back in and being pushed under a wave, managing to get up for air, coughing and spluttering, only to be pushed back under the water again and again. Which girl doesn't hate it when gushes of salty current keep coming at them, forcing them to swallow, when all they want to do is spit? That's when I had my 'drowning' moment. Luckily for me, my logical side (tiny though it is) kicked into gear and I realised I could just shut my bloody gob, hold my breath and flip to horizontal again... oh, and also remember that I was about three metres away from water shallow enough to stand up in. That, my friends, is what you call a SUPREME drama queen moment. It doesn't happen often, but I sure as hell know how to do it in grand, OTT style when it does! Later, when I recounted the tale to Imran, he rolled his eyes and remarked: "Well, that wasn't clever." Aah, the joys of having a straight-talking husband! Needless to say, I wore a lifejacket everywhere after that, even in water about as deep as a kids' paddling pool. And I had to share it with the other children. Oh, the embarrassment just wouldn't stop!

We did a few mini treks here and there. One evening we went up a hill with grass almost the same height as me which would have been fine if it weren't for the long thorns on the blades. They would fall off the grass with even the smallest flutter and, by the end of the walk, we were painfully covered in them head to toe, dozens upon dozens of the sharp prickles embedded in our shoes and clothes. We all had to sit with a pair of tweezers picking them out for ages. That was not a fun walk. However, the views were remarkable. We didn't quite make it to the very top as the spikes wedged into our feet became too painful but we were high enough to see the beauty around us.

In comparison, on the islands of Komodo and Rinca, the walks were a lot of fun as we went dragon spotting. The Komodo dragons have been around for tens of millions of years - they probably hung out with the dinosaurs - and can grow to a length of 10ft, weighing up to 70kg. They have drool dripping from their mouths all the time because this is what they use to attack their prey - the poison in the saliva will kill something (or someone!) slowly over a few days and then leave it ready to eat. They can smell blood from miles away. If there's a shortage of food around, they'll eat their own as they have cannibalistic tendencies. In fact, a pregnant dragon will lay her eggs and look after them only for a few months before deserting them; once hatched, the newborn babies have the innate skill to climb up a tree immediately, otherwise other dragons, including their mum, will eat them! It was pretty cool seeing the dragons in the flesh right in front of us and they didn't seem too scary considering we were standing only a handful of metres away, but then, they are slower first thing in the morning when their bodies require heating up and we were ready to leg it at a second's notice!

Each evening at around 7pm, I lost my hubby temporarily and Mario Testino would appear in his place. We were on the beach of a different island for sunset each day and boy, did we see some sensational ones. No chance of managing to speak to Imran at that time of day as he was running around on the sand, snapping away with his zoom lense. I was generally having fun playing games with the French kiddies and enjoying the beautiful view as a backdrop to giant beach noughts 'n' crosses. To his credit, the man got some great pictures!

Our final night on the cruise was really special and for me it was the highlight of our Indonesia trip; if I'm honest, one of my most memorable times on our travels as a whole. The crew sparked up a fire on the beach and we ate dinner under the stars. We were literally in the middle of nowhere, with no other people around for miles, on a tiny island surrounded by glistening black sea and mountains. There were lit candles everywhere and the smell of grilled fish and baked potatoes filled the air, mixing with the fresh, briny scent of the ocean and the smoky bamboo fire. There was no sound except for the waves peacefully lapping on the shore, the crackling of the flames and the crew singing traditional songs with their guitars. It was an incredible evening and we felt very content and at ease. These kinds of experiences - the simplest of pleasures - are what life is all about.

From the perfect final night to the perfect final day: the following morning we visited a village on the island of Flores called Melo, home to the Maiyggarai people. We'd already been to visit a village called Mesa during the cruise and the enjoyment there had focused on the many lovely children who followed us everywhere and wanted to hold our hands and befriend us. As a greeting they'd jumped into the sea and climbed into our boat when we approached and as a goodbye they flung themselves into the water once more. There was none of that going on in Melo as we were high up in the lush, green mountains and the consequences of throwing oneself off anything would have been much less positive. We had a wonderful welcome of the locals playing drums and singing while the elders shook our hands. We were given the traditional hospitality items of palm wine, betel nuts and - because this was Indonesia, after all - a cigarette. Luckily, the fag wasn't compulsory. Betel nuts are the seed of the Areca palm and act as a stimulant when chewed. They cause the mouth and teeth to go bright red and the saliva needs to be spit out frequently. Imran had a go thanks to the good old pact! It does make me laugh how much I get away with being a chick and how much he has to do when we meet local tribes just because he's male!

But while he may not have enjoyed the betel nut much, he certainly did enjoy being the volunteer to start off the 'whipping dance ritual.' A group of men held shields and whips and danced for a little while. The other members looked on and sang. In turn, each guy would have to whip another, the latter hopefully defending the lash on his shield. There was no messing about - they wound up that whip like nobody's business and threw licks with full force! It was the perfect thing for Imran and, of course, he was itching to do it again later but the ritual was over. His little jig was pretty entertaining (ask him to show you when we're back home!) After his turn, each man would chant to the others: "Was that good? Am I tough and strong?" and everybody would cry: "Yes!" I would've liked to participate in that too but the downside of being female is that I'm also made to do tamer things like girly dances with pretty scarves to sweet melodies. They additionally involved us in a bamboo stick dance which is kind of difficult to describe - it was a bit like hopscotch within opening and closing sticks. This was definitely something the kids loved but Imran sneaked in a go too. It was a brilliant morning and we loved it. It was definitely one of the best - and in my mind, the most authentic - native peoples' visit we've done. We felt very happy and lucky to have experienced it. The kids had an amazing time and it just further proved that whether they remember it acutely or not, the experience had some impact on them just the same.

If we hadn't done the Komodo cruise, I don't think I would have many positive things to write about Indonesia. We wouldn't have had a horrible time but it just wouldn't have been our kind of place. We want nature, we want untouched areas with as few tourists as possible, we want experiences with locals. The cruise gave us all of this and showed us how breathtakingly gorgeous Indonesia actually is. If you like the same kind of stuff, do the cruise now. At the moment, it's peaceful, serene and astounding. When we visited the Komodo island a pier was in the process of being built which will allow boats of 500 guests to visit at any one time which means that those traits won't be applicable in a few years. With the tourists comes the fast-paced development of resorts and sadly, in this part of the world, it's done with only short-term gains in mind and without any consideration of ecological, environmental or even human sustainability. Rubbish is a massive problem in south east Asia (Singapore excepted) and the thought of the archipelago we visited being ruined by strewn litter - and it's already visible around Flores - is very sad. The Galapagos authorities have got their conservation tactics down perfectly and would never allow that kind of crap on their islands, but in this part of the world, the cultural mindset is one that doesn't see anything wrong with it. They don't see the mess in crystal waters or perfect beaches as an issue - in fact, they just don't see it at all. It's so common, a non-issue, that it's not noticeable. It's a real shame. But if that's the way it's going to go, then best get yourself there while it's immaculate because ultimately this part of Indonesia is most certainly a real jewel of the planet.