Though I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of relaxing in my little hut, overlooking what is probably one of the best beaches in the world, I did decide that I'd take a short trip around more of the island on my second to last day there. The Kei Islands are made up of two main islands: short and oval shaped Kei Kecil (Small Kei) and the long, narrow Kei Besar (Big Kei), though the size comparisons may be debatable if you actually computed the area of the islands, but I don't think anyone really cared back when the islands were named. Kei Besar is said to have a few mountains and a few more untouched beaches, though none looked as perfect as Pasir Panjang, and I wasn't going to waste a few hours each way on a taxi and ferry to find out. I decided to just focus on a few nearby attractions, Goa Hawang and Ohoidertawun. With Beny's help, we arranged a bemo (basically a minivan that serves as a local taxi) to take me around for the afternoon. It was another time when I wasn't sure if he was doing this out of kindness or would charge me for it later, and my confusion grew when he and his kids jumped in the van with us. Either way, I was happy to have some company along with me, and Beny even served as a bit of a tour guide along the way. We passed through Ngur Bloat village and a few smaller settlements with just a few houses and perhaps a school and church or mosque, depending on the religion of that specific town. Although the civil war is over, many locals were quick to ask about my religion and make comments about one religion or the other, so you can still feel a bit of the tension or hard feelings that helped fuel the war, though I don't think any violence would come close to reaching the level at that time.
Along the way, we drove an old road in bad condition through tall fields of grassland and bits of trees, passing over a few streams and mangrove swamps, and Beny pointed out a few spots of Japanese occupation during WWII, noting that the road we were on was even built by the Japanese during that time, as no track existed there before. A few minutes later, out of the woods popped five or six shirtless men, all brandishing huge spears, looking a bit like tribal warriors from a few hundred years ago. It turns out that they are in fact still hunters, living off of the land much the way their ancestors did, though I think they bring the hunt home to their houses in the small villages, so it's probably a mix of traditional and modern culture. Not long after passing the village of Letvuan, we stopped at a tiny, almost indiscernible gravel road between a house and a patch of forest. Beny told me that this was the entrance to the first stop, Goa Hawang, so we jumped out of the van and headed down the road. Goa Hawang means something sort of evil like Devil's Cave or something similar, as it was believed to have been created by black magic, or so the story goes. Five minutes down the road, we made a U turn down some concrete stairs and then saw the cave directly in front of us, a large opening in a limestone wall, surrounded by bits of dry forest and featuring numerous, thick stalactites hanging down from the ceiling, some nearly reaching the translucent, shimmering blue water that filled the bottom of the cave. The scene was actually very similar to some of the cenotes (sinkholes) in Yucatan, Mexico, an underground reservoir of pure water with a few caves opening up to the surface above. Two teenage boys were swimming and diving into the deep, clear water, and an older local man in his underwear was diligently washing his clothes with a bucket and a washboard, using the fresh water for rinsing.
I walked around and took a few pictures and dipped my feet in, as Beny's kids jumped in the fresh water and frolicked around for a few minutes before we moved on. We had made it just in time, as the last bits of afternoon sunlight were making their way through the canopy, shooting diffracted rays of light all the way to the bottom of the pool, creating quite an impressive effect of white streaks through the blue water. Our bemo then circled back around part of the island to Langgur on the North tip, making a quick stop in town and heading over to the central North coast to a beach at the town of Ohoidertawun. This beach is very highly regarded by my guidebook as one of the most tranquil, magical spots in all of Indonesia to relax for a few days, listing one small cottage in particular, so I at least wanted to see the place. Unlike most of the smaller towns in the Keis, Ohoidertawun still has a functioning mosque and church just a few hundred yards away from each other, filled in with a few dusty blocks of basic houses and dirt roads. We parked in the makeshift sand parking lot and got out right as the sun was setting over the far side of the large, horseshoe shaped bay. It wasn't by any means an unattractive place, but I really didn't see the draw to this spot. It had a narrow beach that was much rougher than the one at Pasir Panjang, and the color of the sand wasn't as bright. Along with that, this was more of a bay than a beach, without many palm trees or spots to relax or enjoy the water. I saw the highly-touted cottage, and it did look nice, and we met the friendly owner, but I was really glad that I had spent my time on the best beach of the island, not just relying on the popular place in my book. At the end came the awkward moment of deciding what I had to pay as we arrived back at the guesthouse. Eventually I was told that it would be $20 for the day, though I knew that was way too much and mentioned that I had been offered the tour by another local for $10 the other day, so the driver quickly agreed that $10 was ok, so I guess it turned out that I sponsored the whole daytrip for Beny's family, which was actually fine, since they had been so hospitable to me.
Again my day trip allowed me to see other parts of the Keis, as well as making me truly appreciate the unique beauty of Pasir Panjang and my own little heaven. As usual, I was greeted when we arrived back at the house with a nice home-cooked plate of fish, rice and a few side dishes. Not only was the scenery great, but I was the only guest, and the hosts were wonderfully hospitable, so I was really being treated like a king - allowed to relax, nap and lay out amongst the perfect views during the day and having my every meal hand made and served fresh whenever I was ready. For anyone with a bit of time to make it out to the Keis, I highly, highly recommend it.
(Edos' house, a typical simple concrete house in the village of Ngur Bloat. Look closely, it looks like he has windows, but they're just open panes with curtains on the inside.)
(A few of the local kids on the beach. They were actually asking to have pictures taken, though I'm pretty sure that one kid is flipping us off...maybe it was the offensive comments I made about Indonesia just before taking the picture.)
(The sunlight making its way into the cave pools at Goa Hawang. I, along with Beny and his kids, hired a driver for the day to see a few of the sights on Kei Kecil.)
(A few local kids swimming in the cool, blue pools while a local guy just out of camera-shot was washing his clothes in his underwear. Strange that I decided not to include him in the picture.)
(The sunset at Ohoidertawun from right outside the Savannah Cottages. This place is really popular and highly-touted in the guidebook, though I thought my place was much, much better - and it was cheaper.)
(This is the nutty mix known as tempeh, along with some green beans. This, along with the fish and chili in the background, was one of my favorite meals.)
(The beach gets massive at low tide, and somehow I realized that I haven't really grasped the concept of how tides work because I thought I knew when it would be low and high, but I turned out to be wrong a few times...my first few times ever being wrong. Quite a disappointing feeling.)
Along the way, we drove an old road in bad condition through tall fields of grassland and bits of trees, passing over a few streams and mangrove swamps, and Beny pointed out a few spots of Japanese occupation during WWII, noting that the road we were on was even built by the Japanese during that time, as no track existed there before. A few minutes later, out of the woods popped five or six shirtless men, all brandishing huge spears, looking a bit like tribal warriors from a few hundred years ago. It turns out that they are in fact still hunters, living off of the land much the way their ancestors did, though I think they bring the hunt home to their houses in the small villages, so it's probably a mix of traditional and modern culture. Not long after passing the village of Letvuan, we stopped at a tiny, almost indiscernible gravel road between a house and a patch of forest. Beny told me that this was the entrance to the first stop, Goa Hawang, so we jumped out of the van and headed down the road. Goa Hawang means something sort of evil like Devil's Cave or something similar, as it was believed to have been created by black magic, or so the story goes. Five minutes down the road, we made a U turn down some concrete stairs and then saw the cave directly in front of us, a large opening in a limestone wall, surrounded by bits of dry forest and featuring numerous, thick stalactites hanging down from the ceiling, some nearly reaching the translucent, shimmering blue water that filled the bottom of the cave. The scene was actually very similar to some of the cenotes (sinkholes) in Yucatan, Mexico, an underground reservoir of pure water with a few caves opening up to the surface above. Two teenage boys were swimming and diving into the deep, clear water, and an older local man in his underwear was diligently washing his clothes with a bucket and a washboard, using the fresh water for rinsing.
I walked around and took a few pictures and dipped my feet in, as Beny's kids jumped in the fresh water and frolicked around for a few minutes before we moved on. We had made it just in time, as the last bits of afternoon sunlight were making their way through the canopy, shooting diffracted rays of light all the way to the bottom of the pool, creating quite an impressive effect of white streaks through the blue water. Our bemo then circled back around part of the island to Langgur on the North tip, making a quick stop in town and heading over to the central North coast to a beach at the town of Ohoidertawun. This beach is very highly regarded by my guidebook as one of the most tranquil, magical spots in all of Indonesia to relax for a few days, listing one small cottage in particular, so I at least wanted to see the place. Unlike most of the smaller towns in the Keis, Ohoidertawun still has a functioning mosque and church just a few hundred yards away from each other, filled in with a few dusty blocks of basic houses and dirt roads. We parked in the makeshift sand parking lot and got out right as the sun was setting over the far side of the large, horseshoe shaped bay. It wasn't by any means an unattractive place, but I really didn't see the draw to this spot. It had a narrow beach that was much rougher than the one at Pasir Panjang, and the color of the sand wasn't as bright. Along with that, this was more of a bay than a beach, without many palm trees or spots to relax or enjoy the water. I saw the highly-touted cottage, and it did look nice, and we met the friendly owner, but I was really glad that I had spent my time on the best beach of the island, not just relying on the popular place in my book. At the end came the awkward moment of deciding what I had to pay as we arrived back at the guesthouse. Eventually I was told that it would be $20 for the day, though I knew that was way too much and mentioned that I had been offered the tour by another local for $10 the other day, so the driver quickly agreed that $10 was ok, so I guess it turned out that I sponsored the whole daytrip for Beny's family, which was actually fine, since they had been so hospitable to me.
Again my day trip allowed me to see other parts of the Keis, as well as making me truly appreciate the unique beauty of Pasir Panjang and my own little heaven. As usual, I was greeted when we arrived back at the house with a nice home-cooked plate of fish, rice and a few side dishes. Not only was the scenery great, but I was the only guest, and the hosts were wonderfully hospitable, so I was really being treated like a king - allowed to relax, nap and lay out amongst the perfect views during the day and having my every meal hand made and served fresh whenever I was ready. For anyone with a bit of time to make it out to the Keis, I highly, highly recommend it.
(Edos' house, a typical simple concrete house in the village of Ngur Bloat. Look closely, it looks like he has windows, but they're just open panes with curtains on the inside.)
(A few of the local kids on the beach. They were actually asking to have pictures taken, though I'm pretty sure that one kid is flipping us off...maybe it was the offensive comments I made about Indonesia just before taking the picture.)
(The sunlight making its way into the cave pools at Goa Hawang. I, along with Beny and his kids, hired a driver for the day to see a few of the sights on Kei Kecil.)
(A few local kids swimming in the cool, blue pools while a local guy just out of camera-shot was washing his clothes in his underwear. Strange that I decided not to include him in the picture.)
(The sunset at Ohoidertawun from right outside the Savannah Cottages. This place is really popular and highly-touted in the guidebook, though I thought my place was much, much better - and it was cheaper.)
(This is the nutty mix known as tempeh, along with some green beans. This, along with the fish and chili in the background, was one of my favorite meals.)
(The beach gets massive at low tide, and somehow I realized that I haven't really grasped the concept of how tides work because I thought I knew when it would be low and high, but I turned out to be wrong a few times...my first few times ever being wrong. Quite a disappointing feeling.)
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