Posts tagged Flores
33 - Kelimutu National Park (Flores, Indonesia)

On that note, the locals believe Kelimutu is, in fact, sacred and inhabited by souls of the departed. I have to admit, souls could do a lot worse. The billeting is portioned by age and measurement on the naughty/nice scale. The forthright souls of youth go to Tiwu Numa Muri Koo Fai (turquoise lake), the righteous aged to Tiwi Ata Mbupu (dark green lake), and the naughty candidates from both groups are destined to spend eternity in Tiwi Ata Polo (black lake). The sign on the trail lacked specifics on age cutoffs and maximum sin allowance, but if I flung myself into the turquoise goo on that day, I’d like to think I had a reasonable chance of making the cut…allegedly…

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32 - Mosquito Massacre & The Lost Ferry Of Ende (Flores, Indonesia)

Fine. I knew there was a boat. Definitely. Without a doubt. Ende? Maumere? Somewhere, someway, someday. Ende has a harbor. Harbor equals boats. With this infallible logic as my sword, I soldiered on. Near the harbor entrance were two small shops with signs for the Dharma II and Dharma Recana both leaving from Ende (where I was) to Surabaya (where I almost wanted to be). I inquired inside. Those boats neither leave from nor pass through Ende. Why would they? For that I must go to Maumere. Just to be clear, there were ticket offices manned by personnel not selling tickets to boats…

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31 - Inielika & Wogo (Bajawa, Flores, Indonesia)

Believe it or not, there was a volcano nearby. Weird. Don’t find many of those in Indonesia. Welcome to the Anus of Fire. It’s huge. This one was quiet but had potential. There were eruptions in 1905, 1908, and 2001. The January 2001 eruption spilled lava, charred a few acres, and dusted Bajawa with a light smattering of ash. Inielika is a complex volcano, meaning t has numerous craters spread over 190 sq km. Its highest point is a 1559 km caldera. I’ve never met a volcano that didn’t interest me, so I deemed a visit necessary. I hired a guide for a peek and as a chaperone to an old-school Ngada village…

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30 - Panic & Pessimism (Komodo National Park, Indonesia)

Our first dive required a furious descent to avoid being swept away. Paddling my balls off to the sea floor was the appetizer. Bottom currents kept the fun alive. Undersea rock climbing, anyone? That was my impression as I grasped for one rock and then another against the flow. It was exhausting, and I was in trouble from the start. The descent took it out of me and I never really caught up to my breath. How can I describe the feeling? Put on a snorkel and mask. Sprint up twelve flights of stairs. Sprinkle in a moderate to severe impending sensation of doom. Breathe normally. Calm the fuck down.…

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28 - Vänskap, Chicken Rants, & Jargon Dance (Labuan Bajo, Flores, Indonesia)

If we could speak to chickens, I assume we’d be able to talk to goats and cows as well. I would certainly treasure their input. Would they blame the chicken for glamorizing an act of potential suicide? I wonder because it’s clear to me goats refuse to be outdone by something as insignificant as a flightless bird. They aren’t content with merely crossing the road. They take it up a notch and linger for as long as possible before relenting. That is, of course, if they relent. There appears to be an elite brand of thrill-seeking goat…

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