Jakarta - One Day is Enough for Me

With a reputation for crime, poverty, pollution and grimy streetscapes, I wasn't all that excited about my next stop: Jakarta. On top of all of that and some recent seismic activity, a bombing aimed at foreigners killed about 11 people around a month before my stay, though I fortunately don't tend to stay in the hotels that symbolize the opulence of the Western world.

Still in the Keis, ready for a few legs of travel, I had to leave early, so I awoke at 4:30, had a quick breakfast and finally got my bill from Mr. Beny, as many things in Indonesia are paid afterwards, instead of beforehand, as you would probably do in the US. Though the room was only $6 a night, I had no idea what I'd be charged for food, and I was actually a bit annoyed to see that the price for the meals was actually pretty high compared with the average prices in the area. All in all, it was a wonderful deal, and I would have been happy to pay just under $15 a night for that wonderful location, exceptional hospitality and three home-cooked meals a day if that price had been quoted in the beginning, but it was just the fact that I had an expectation of paying even less, and then I was a little angry to see that lunch and dinner were about $3.50 each which sounds low but it definitely high for the Kei Islands. I thought about saying something to Beny about this, but I couldn't find the right way to phrase it, so I sat in silence on the way to the airport. As it began to rain, we got to the tiny house that served as the baggage claim, check in, security and waiting room. Since the metal detector was broken, they just looked at me and literally touched my backpack, feeling that was enough assurance that I wasn't carrying anything dangerous in my bags. Though the security was really lax, I didn't figure there was much danger in a region this remote on a tiny plane flight. This day would simply be a travel day, though I was a little worried about the logistics. I had booked two flights with different airlines for the day, and a third flight the next day, allowing plenty of time for connections in most places (3 to 4 hours in tiny airports), but the frequent delays and last-second cancellations that happen all over Indonesia threatened to ruin my plans, so I just hoped for the best. My first flight from the Keis took off as scheduled, so I was happy about that.

Within an hour, I was back in Ambon, the capital of Maluku, where I had four or five hours to kill before my next flight. I waited around and eventually found Michael, the super friendly guy working at the information booth who had helped me find a place to stay in his aunt's guesthouse during my stopover in Ambon before. We chatted for a while, and I showed him pictures of my trip, and then I finally had to get going, so he wished me well and was off. My next flight had a stopover in East Java and then ended in Jakarta. The view from the flight was also pretty interesting, looking over the haze and over-populated island of Java, finding town after town, along with rows of pointy volcanic peaks jutting up through the layer of clouds and smog below, leaving no doubt that these islands were shaped by volcanic activity. I wasn't particularly excited about visiting Jakarta, though it was a good hub to get back to Malaysia with some really cheap flights thanks to Air Asia, and I figured it might be good to see the capital, if just for a night.

I contemplated trying to stay near the airport, an hour outside the city, but I decided to go for the true experience, taking the bus into the center of the sprawling capital of about 10 million people. Hoping for the best, I soon realized that this wasn't going to be one of those cities that would come as a pleasant surprise (e.g. central Mexico City). The bus stopped and started in the endless congestion, passing through greying buildings and apartment blocks set against the polluted grey sky. Slum towns stood along the side of the rivers, shared walls and tin roofs enclosing the tiny shacks, with heaps of trash lining the river, often burning piles of garbage, part of what pollutes the air and even gets blown up to Singapore and Malaysia. After about an hour and a half, the bus turned down one of the central avenues of Jakarta, revealing a few stately buildings interspersed with a few of the more common, less attractive structures of the city, with the state mosque being one of the most impressive-looking buildings in the city. As I thought about it, if you put together a few pictures framed just right, you could try to give the city an alluring image, but even that wouldn't last. We were soon at the bus station in the center of town, next to a massive obelisk erected in honor of a controversial former leader of Indonesia, and I bargained and finally hopped into a little tiny contraption that was basically a three wheeled motorcycle (the two wheels in the front) with a seat attached in the front and a hard cover over both the passenger and driver, creating a little bubble that would make a Mini look big. I only had to go a few minutes down the road, and the price was right, so I jumped in.

My area was the popular area for backpackers/shoestring travellers to stay in Jakarta, though I wasn't impressed with the vibe. The streets were rather dirty, and the hotels/hostels didn't seem welcoming or clean. I reluctantly checked into a dirty, tiny hotel room for $6-7, sweltering in the heat of the concrete box with no windows, happy to have an overhead fan to try to cool things down. Not wanting to stay in the oppressive box, I went down the road looking for my last night of Indonesian food. I passed down the alley without finding anything interesting, looking for something simple like a roadside stall with noodles or fried rice. I had heard of a street market nearby, so I was headed there when I was greeted by a 'friendly' taxi driver. I kept walking as I talked, though he followed along, offering to show me the place to which I was headed. I felt that I could get there on my own, but I didn't see any harm in him walking with me, so I kept up the conversation. Along the way, I smelled the lovely aromas coming from a Middle Eastern restaurant, and my new buddy urged me to check it out, but the prices were much higher than I wanted to pay, so I kept moving. I was just around the corner from the market when I saw a few obnoxious neon lights just above me. At the same time, my friend implored me to check out this place, surely they'd have what I wanted. Looking up, I saw the red, white and blue neon sign of the American Grill, offering up burgers, steaks and fried chicken. I explained again and again that I was looking for cheap, local food and not a touristy, terrible, overpriced version of American food which I could have at home. After a minute of trying to convince me, my friend turned back into a random guy on the street, abruptly telling me that the market was "over there," and he moved back down to the street to his corner, obviously disappointed that he couldn't get commission off bringing me to an expensive restaurant on the road.

My dinner was just a simple noodle dish, followed by a second dinner of chicken sate/satay, the popular chicken skewers cooked over charcoal with a peanut dipping sauce. It was so good and so cheap that I couldn't resist the smell of it after I finished my first meal. Heading back to the hotel a few blocks away, it was already dark, and I didn't have a great feeling about the street, so I quickly made it back, passing what I assumed were a few 'ladies of the night.' The next morning I was looking for an internet cafe and found another prostitute hanging around right outside the internet cafe, asking me a few times if I liked women, if I was interested, etc. I tried to move away, but the internet cafe near her was actually the only one open at the time. The whole place was a little shady, as the signs on the wall made it clear that CHILDREN couldn't view porn sites, and each computer had its own tiny booth with frosted glass around it, so I wasn't really comfortable anyway, making it worse when my little door opened, and I turned to find the woman who I assumed was a prostitute there, asking me again if I wanted her services. Then, minutes later, her friend popped his head into my booth unannounced, looking for her. As you can imagine, I quickly got out of there, and I was happy to be out of Jakarta in a few hours. I'm sure the city has its redeeming qualities, but I honestly didn't really find any of them, so I wasn't too disappointed, though I was a little sad to be leaving Indonesia in general, as I had enjoyed an incredible variety of beaches, volcanoes, forests, mountains and tons of great, cheap food during my six weeks there.

(I actually only took one picture in Jakarta, showing a typical street scene near the center of the city. "But Derek, that's quite unlike you." "But that's what I did, and I was acting under my own free will, so explain that."...I just blew your mind.)

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Last Days at Pasir Panjang, Kei Islands

My days in paradise were numbered, though having spent eight days in total seemed just about right. It was a great way to relax and get away from some of the more hectic parts of Indonesia, and it would be perfect to essentially end my tour of the country with such an amazing spot. Unfortunately, my last two days on Pasir Panjang were on a Saturday and Sunday, meaning that for once, I didn't have the beach completely to myself, since picnics with the family in the shade or under a hut are fairly popular among the local. Even so, there was more than enough beach to go around, and this would still be considered a quiet beach on these days anywhere else.

My last two nights in the guesthouse, however, were a little more eventful than I had hoped. After my tour to Goa Hawang and Ohoidertawun, I had my fish dinner, talked with Beny and then headed for bed, sometime around 9:30 or 10. I got to sleep, but then I was awakened late that night by some noise just outside. I could hear talking, though I had no idea what they were saying, though I did hear some mention of the foreigner sleeping in the room. I checked my watch, and it was right around midnight. In the previous six days, there had been absolutely no activity after dark in the area, so I wondered what could be going on. I heard a few cans opening, and the talking sounded like it was literally in my room, so I knew that they must be just outside the thin walls. I actually became a little suspicious as they continued to hang around, hoping it wasn't a group of kids trying to mess with me. After a few minutes without stopping, I quietly tip-toed to the front wall, peaking through the tiny cracks in the wood to see that they were indeed using my table just outside the room, though I couldn't see the people. I decided I would just let it go, but then I saw another light turn on in the room next door to mine (that is supposed to be unoccupied). The talking continued, followed by some singing and music from what sounded like a cell phone's mp3 player. At this point, I was exhausted and sick of my new neighbors, so I whistled and made a few noises to let them know of my presence, though they continued on, just as loud until late in the night. Finally, after about an hour and a half of non-stop talking and music that easily penetrated the walls of my room, I heard them get up, switch off the lights, and I heard a car drive away. I didn't know what had happened, but I was just glad that I'd be able to get a little bit of sleep, though I was still wary of the whole situation.

In the morning, Beny apologized, telling me that it was a drunk couple that had come from Tual to do karaoke that night, though Beny explained to them that the karaoke bar was closed at nights (only open on Sunday afternoons) when he had guests staying in the room. Apparently they didn't want to take 'no' for an answer, so Beny eventually sold them some beer, and they hung around the extra room until they had had enough, which unfortunately for me, was quite a while later. Beny apologized again for the disturbance, but I didn't really understand why he even allowed them to come in the room in the first place.

For the last day, I hung around my precious hut, savoring each moment and watching Beny and his friends quickly build the frames for a few more of the thatched huts that they planned to install in the palm grove just next to mine, as his karaoke bar would be hosting a large group of university students the next week, so I was glad that I wouldn't be there for that. It was fun to watch how quickly these simple huts of wood and palm leaves can come together; Beny told me that they usually make one per day when they're working hard. I also chatted with a German woman who had appeared on the beach two days earlier, sort of ruining my fantasy of being the only foreigner, but she and her daughter didn't do much to diminish that fantasy, as I didn't even really see them during the day. She asked about my accommodation, saying that her place was ok but that it had a mouse in the room. That didn't seem like a big deal to me at first, but she told me a gruesome story about her and her daughter staying in Indonesia last year with a mouse (or perhaps this also means a rat, since her English wasn't great) in the room. Her daughter woke up screaming one night, yelling about the mouse biting her, though the mother told her it was just a nightmare until she turned on the lights and saw blood running down her daughter's face. Apparently they had fish for dinner that night, and the daughter had wiped her fishy hands on her face and not washed it off before bed, so the mouse/rat was apparently drawn by the smell of the fish. I had stayed in some pretty bad places during my stay in Indonesia, but luckily I never experienced anything close to that.

While walking down the dirt road backing the beautiful beach on my last day, I was looking for a snack in one of the many tiny huts that only open on Sundays, and one of the stalls caught my eye. I saw a young girl walking away with a plate of fruit covered with some sauce, so I went to the nearby stall, and my mouth quickly began to water. The counter was full of tropical fruit, and I didn't really know what I was ordering, but I asked for 'one', whatever that meant. The woman quickly began to chop up fresh papaya, starfruit, a bit of cucumber and a few random tropical fruits and vegetables that I hadn't seen before. She then mixed the sliced fruits and vegetables in a dish and moved on to a mortar and pestle where she ground up a handful of peanuts, along with a chunk of palm sugar (like brown sugar), a bit of chili sauce and a bit of juice, making a dark brown, caramel type sauce that she poured over the fruit plate. I asked her the name, and she explained that it is an Indonesian specialty called rujak. As good as it looked, it tasted even better. The sweet peanut sauce was just a little bit spicy, going perfectly with the sweet fruit. I quickly ate my plate and for 50 cents, I couldn't resist another, so I watched again, trying to take mental notes so that I could try to re-create this masterpiece in the future. The work isn't that hard, I think it would just be hard to find the right ingredients.

Next, I went back to my pondok to enjoy my last sunset in the islands. Just before the sun set, I met a nice young guy named Michael who spoke pretty good English, and I had actually stopped by his little karaoke shop (owned by his parents earlier) where he showed off his cheesiest/best music that he had to offer. A few minutes later, a local couple came up to try to talk to me and get a picture with me, though Michael had to serve as a translator for this whole interaction. Stanley, a medium sized, tougher looking guy with a baggy t-shirt and a long chain with a cross on it, and his girlfriend had been watching the sunset just in front of me, so I had noticed them, but I didn't ever get a good look at them. So, we took a few pictures, and Stanley even gave me his necklace, which I tried to refuse, but he insisted that I take it back to America and to remember who gave it to me. I reluctantly accepted, since I didn't want to take the gift, but it would be rude to keep refusing, so I thanked him and tried to move on. Michael went home, but Stanley and his girlfriend actually came back to the karaoke bar owned by Beny, next door to my guesthouse. More interested in me than the karaoke, they all sat around the dinner table, along with two friends who had appeared from the bar and literally just stared at me while I sat down at the table. Thinking they'd go away, they all just pulled up chairs to watch me eat. I felt bad and offered them some food, but apparently they really did just want to watch me, so I felt really self conscious as I pulled apart the fish and hurried through my dinner. At the same time, I also noticed that Stanley's girlfriend, with whom I had taken a picture, may or may not have been a girl. To this day, I really don't know. He/she definitely had a very manly look, and I'd probably lean towards calling him/her a male in our society, but I just don't think that cross-dressing would be at all accepted in this rather conservative society of Indonesia. So I still have no idea, and I wasn't going to ask, but my questioning guess is that it was a girl.

Also while I was trying to eat, the second couple that was staring at me began a drunken fight, yelling, kicking and slapping, ending with the girl yelling something, pulling off her shoe and throwing it at the guy, which came dangerously close to hitting me. Luckily, they moved off the porch, and I was left with Stanley and friend. Stanley then tried to explain to me that he wanted me to give him a gift, indicating that he really wanted the shirt I was wearing. This is exactly why I didn't want to take his gift in the first place, so I dreaded this whole conversation. First of all, I really like the shirt I was wearing, and it brings back good memories of playing soccer in college, and I didn't bring that many clothes with me, so I really couldn't spare the shirt. I tried to explain this over and over, but Stanley thought I just didn't understand what he wanted. Eventually, I conveyed that I couldn't give him my shirt, and I offered to give back the necklace, but he still wanted me to have it, so I again reluctantly held on. Finally, he and his friend left me alone, and I hurried into my room and closed the door, happy to see their car pull away a few minutes later. In contrast to the vast majority of my time there in paradise, the last two nights were rather hectic and actually a little bit concerning at times.

Nevertheless, I didn't let those two random incidents in the last two days ruin my impression of the place. In the Kei Islands, I had found a true paradise, and I was so glad that I had allotted eight days to relax and enjoy the tropical atmosphere, food and scenery.

(One of my favorite pictures of Pasir Panjang - clear water, a soft, sparkling white sand beach and my little hut. Perfect.)

(Here is a picture of the preparation for rujak - an Indonesian fruit salad with papaya, star fruit, cucumber, some random other tropical fruits, freshly ground peanut sauce and a bit of chili. It was really amazing.)

(The scenic palms at the South end of the beach, about a 6 minute walk from my hut.)

(Looking up, the palm trees looked even taller, stretching off into the sky.)

(To make things even more picturesque, a few of them curved nicely, changing up the scenery. They've pretty much thought of everything here on the Kei Islands.)

(Another perspective.)

(A few times around sunset, I heard and then saw a couple of locals climbing up the palm trees to cut down some coconuts, scaling the trees really quickly with a few notches they had made for footholds and a machete in one hand.)

(My last sunset on the beach, just before meeting a few odd characters that had wandered out from the karaoke bar next door.)

(This person in question appeared to be a girl during sunset (and sitting with 'her' boyfriend), but once I saw the picture and him/her in the light, I wasn't so sure. Still, I know the features are quite manly, but I just don't think cross-dressing would be accepted in this society, so I vote female, though I could very easily be wrong.)

(And I finally got a picture of Mr. Beny, just a few minutes before our 4:30 departure for the airport that morning. I actually wanted a picture of the two of us, but he didn't understand that part...his English was good enough for most of our conversations, though.)

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Family Tour to Goa Hawang and Ohoidertawun

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.)

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More Idyllic Days on Pasir Panjang

Tahiti. Bora Bora. Cook Islands. Fiji. Hawaii. Puerto Rico. Virgin Islands. Bermuda. La Riviera Maya. Cabo San Lucas.

I've been lucky enough to visit all of these islands in the past few years, always in search of paradise. Here in this isolated corner of Indonesia, I may have found the best of them all. As I spent a few more nights on the marvelous beaches of the Kei Islands, I realized that Pasir Panjang pretty much had it all. The incredibly fine, powder soft white sand stretched for miles, going from a decent width for walking at high tide to 40 or 50 yards wide at low tide, offering plenty of beach for relaxing. The crystal clear water was slightly tinted with shades of light blue and green, and the warm water lapped gently against the sand, creating the hypnotic rhythm perfect for warm afternoon naps under the shade of the never-ending rows of tall palm trees or within the thatched huts scattered along the edge of the beach, mostly unused during the weekdays. Of all the idyllic places that I've visited, I was beginning to think that this may be the best beach of them all, offering the beauty and isolation of a prototypical island paradise.

As I was lulled into my lazy daily routine by the heat and tranquility of the island, the days began to blend together, and I was loving every moment of it. It had taken a bit of effort to get to the Kei Islands, so I had decided that I'd spend eight days there before even seeing the place, and I was really glad that I did. In a typical day, I'd wake up about 6 am to hear Johnny, Mr. Beny's young son yelling about something to his older sister, then I'd fall back asleep until 8 and wake up to the smells of my fresh breakfast, waiting outside on the table for me. Breakfast was usually some bread and jelly along with a plate or two of fruits or vegetables, often with fried sweet potatoes and, towards the end of the week, fried slices of banana with a crispy batter that was amazing. I'd then head down the walkway through a few trees and the row of palms to my hut overlooking the beach, settling in within the small square shelter, either laying out with my towel as a pillow on the flat pondok or opting for the one next to it that had a bamboo bench installed on the back wall, allowing me to sit up and read or mostly just stare off into the ocean. A few fishermen and a few locals would pass by over the next few hours, and then I'd know it was around 12:30 or so when I'd hear Beny calling my name, telling me to come get lunch.

Lunch varied day to day, but it was usually a few pieces of fresh fish from the market, accompanied with some various chili sauces, along with rice and a few side dishes such as green beans and tempeh (a sort of peanut brittle but much better and not so hard), fruit slices, eggs or a few other random ingredients. After gorging myself, I'd head back out to the shady palms, sometimes taking a quick dip in the warm water and then watching the hours pass by from my own personal hut. I walked up and down the beach a few more times, just to see what was going on, but I always found it just as before - wonderful and nearly untouched. There were a few days where I really couldn't believe how few people (locals and foreigners) were on such a perfect stretch of beach. (Though on Indonesian independence day and the last day before Ramadan started, there were a few more people than normal.)

I'd finish off the day by watching the sun set and the sky change colors, heading back to my dinner with the last few bits of remaining light. Dinner was similar to lunch, another feast of fish, rice, eggs, instant noodles and a few other random things. I'm not usually a big fan of seafood, but after a few days on this diet, I actually really liked some of the dishes, particularly with the flavorful chili sauce that was almost always accompanying the fish. I'd then talk to Beny for a little while before reading a book, listening to some music and heading off to bed, ready to start another day in paradise. This really was the life.

(Me and one of my pondoks just before sunset. The beach was so empty that it was easier for me to find a stick and make a tripod to take this picture than to wait for someone to come by.)

(The sand was incredibly soft, and there was certainly plenty of it.)

(This is actually Beny's boat, much nicer than the one Edos and I used for our island adventure.)

(The karaoke house is on the left, and my guesthouse is on the right. Though there were three tiny rooms, I was the only one staying there. I had all my meals at a tiny table on the right side of that wrap-around porch, and the beach was just about 100 yards down the dirt path in the front of the picture.)

(A typical lunch courtesy of Beny's wife. Chili sauce (there were many different variations of the hot sauce), bananas, two whole fish, rice and some sort of squash covered in a wonderful, dark peanut sauce.)

(Another fabulous day in paradise.)

(Beny's boat again, looking sleek.)

(I did have a few tiny bits of rain and occasional clouds, but for the most part, I had pretty great weather to go with the great scenery.)

(Look closely to spot the rows of pondoks.)

(Similar view, different day. This was a place where time could stand still, and you really wouldn't notice...or care.)

(Everywhere I looked seemed like a perfect picture.)

(Near the South end, the beach narrows at high tide, but the huge palm trees make up for it.)

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Stranded on a Deserted Island...Sort of....

For me, there has always been an undeniable draw to life on a deserted island. The pure, untouched beauty of being the only person on that entire piece of land, free to roam, explore and discover, as well as to simply relax with absolutely no one else around has always fascinated me. Though Pasir Panjang was almost the realization of that dream, a few dots on the horizon, visible from my pondok, were beckoning me to be explored. I spoke with Mr. Beny about getting to the island, but he didn't really see the attraction. Fortunately, while relaxing in my hut one morning, one of the locals who spoke a bit of English began talking to me, and it turns out that he is a fisherman with a boat there. I eventually asked him about getting to the islands, and he said he'd take me someday when he wasn't fishing. After he came back from fishing for the day, he stopped by again for a quick chat and even invited me to come back to his house for a minute while he picked up a few things. I obviously had nothing to do, so I took the chance to venture into the local village of Ngur Bloat, just South of the beach. It was a small town with one road and a few dirt tracks running off to the sides, with maybe 20 or so small houses and a few small shops. Mr. Edos' (his first name) house was nothing special, just a one story concrete box type with a steel roof and a small patio. Walking inside, I found that he had the openings and even panes for windows, but he didn't actually have any glass there, so the breeze came and went as we sat in the two chairs that furnished the barren living room. Beyond a cloth sheet serving as a door was the kitchen and bedroom, where his wife was taking care of his young kid. It wasn't extravagant, nor was it poverty, but I love the chance to be able to actually see a local home and the way the people in the town live.

So before I left for the day, Edos and I made a plan for a trip to the islands. As is sometimes the case, I wasn't sure if he was doing this out of pure friendship or was trying to make a bit of money, but I decided not to ask, and we arranged a trip to see the two main islands just off the coast. At 9 am the next morning, I heard the noisy outboard motor coming towards my hut, and made out the dark, curly haired figure of Edos on the back. He beached the 'boat', and I saw what I was in for - it was basically a wooden bathtub with attached supports on each side to keep it from tipping, along with an unbelievably tiny motor and propeller. The two little propeller blades looked to create a diameter about the size of my outstretched hand, and the thin wooden board perched across the hull that would be my seat was not too assuring, though I figured that if he used it as a fishing boat, it could surely handle my day trip. The previous day, I had scouted out the islands, walking South past the end of the beach to some exposed coral at low tide, gazing in awe at the small island nearest to the shore, covered on one side with greenery and palm trees and on the other side with a bright white stretch of beach, ending in a narrow point, contrasting nicely with the blue water. I dreamt of walking in solitude along the fringe of the island, exploring every corner of the small dot of land poking out of the tropical water, and all night I couldn't stop thinking of how the experience would be, still excited as I boarded the tiny wooden boat with Edos.

Our first stop was just at the end of the beach where we walked back into town with a few big water bottles and found the one man in town that has gasoline, storing a massive barrel of it on his front porch, scooping out just enough to fill our two 2 liter bottles. We walked back into the light green water and hopped in the boat, and I couldn't wait to reach the island. I was told that it is called Hoi Eu by the locals, though that's the Kei language, so I have no idea what that might mean. The white beach was quickly in our line of sight, getting closer and closer by the minute. A long, skinny hook of sand jutted out into the water, forming the beach that I had seen from the shore the day before. Moments before landing on the beach, I saw that it was certainly white, though the sand wasn't nearly as fine as I had pictured in my dreams, picking up a bit of debris and shells from the surrounding water. Even so, I hopped off the boat and got ready, though apparently Edos had misunderstood my plan or else I had miscommunicated it. I had thought he would just drop me off and come back to pick me up 8 hours later, but he anchored the boat and came along with me, which turned out to be helpful, as we walked down the first beach, and he then navigated me through the dense brush, leading to the other side of the island in about 5 minutes. Another clearing here revealed the second beach of the island, a half moon shaped bay backed by one or two palms and a few other small trees. Edos told me that he sometimes liked to come here after fishing and just lay out, leaving the world behind. Then, he left me, going back to get the boat and giving me about 30 minutes to sit in the shade and cherish my time on this island. The beaches and scenery weren't quite as perfect as on Pasir Panjang but just knowing that I (and Edos) was the only person on the entire island was a really special feeling.

After Edos came around with the boat, he told me that we were going to the next island over, known as Hoi Wa. This island was much larger and mostly uninhabited, other than a few small buildings on one tip that are actually the factories for the offshore pearl farms. The blue-green water in between the islands got a little choppy when the wind picked up, but it was a pleasant relief from the warm, tropical sun. As we circled the East coast of the island, we saw a few tiny patches of sand and eventually stopped at a rocky outcrop of hardened coral, relaxing here again and enjoying the views of the expansive ocean. Though I wasn't getting my deserted island experience exactly as I had planned, this impromptu tour turned out to be a great alternative, allowing me to see a lot more of the two islands. Edos told me a few stories about his life while he non-chalantly tied a rope around a fairly large rock that he dug out of the coast. Placing it on the side, I saw that he was using it as a counter-weight, since the boat had been leaning to the left the whole time aboard. I also saw that he had no rudder on the boat and had just been using a tiny wooden paddle that he'd stick in the water out the back of the boat. Along with my crude wooden slat for a seat, this was primitive, but it was all that I needed to get a taste of the islands. As the sun peaked in the sky, some dark clouds came out, and we decided that we'd better head back, content with a half day on the islands. We passed by the pearl farms and headed back for the beach, just as the rain started to come. Fortunately, the rain was fairly light, and it was only about 20 minutes from the little islands back to the main island. Back on shore, I thanked Edos for a great trip, and after a while, he eventually gathered the courage to ask for a bit of money for milk for his baby. Since he had only asked me to pay for the gasoline ($5) before, I was more than happy to give him a few dollars for milk and the wonderful tour.

Interestingly, my island tour was great, though the scenery and beaches were actually better where I was staying, conjuring up more than a few thoughts about always wanting what we can't have and trying to be content with what we do have. Even while I was truly in paradise, I was longing to be on the next island and then the next, based on incomplete images and far off views. So I realized that it was time to just sit back and enjoy my little piece of heaven in Pasir Panjang for a while, not worrying about what may or may not be around the next corner, so that was the extent of my plans for the next few days.

(The view of the South end of the beach from the warm, shallow, beautiful water just in front of my hut.)

(This whole shelf of blue water disappears during low tide, giving way to a huge beach.)

(This is the scenery of my dreams, so I never got tired of looking at it.)

(If you look really closely, you might be able to see a few locals in the otherwise deserted beach.)

(These are the pondoks that Beny made running along the row of palms backing the beach. I spent many days relaxing in these, staring out towards the ocean.)

(The one on the right was my secondary hut, which was nice because it had a bench in the back for support, and the one hidden in the middle of the picture was my preferred one, perfect for laying out and afternoon naps.)

(I made friends with Edos, a local fisherman, and he and I arranged a trip to a few of the surrounding uninhabited islands just off the coast. Here we are just about to arrive at the first stretch of white sand beach at Hoi Eu which didn't turn out to be as nice as it looked.)

(Walking through the forest for a few minutes with Edos' guidance, we came out on the other side, and this beach was absolutely mine for about 30 minutes while Edos went back for the boat, and we were the only two on the whole island.)

(As you can see, our boat wasn't anything fancy, just a wooden hull, two supports and a tiny, loud engine, along with my luxurious wooden plank that I used for a bench.)

(From Hoi Eu, we puttered across the beautiful water to Hoi Wa. Originally, I thought Edos was just going to leave me on one of the islands for most of the day, but it turned out that he wanted to give me a tour of the two islands which worked out quite well.)

(One of the many tiny, secluded coves of Hoi Wa. This island is almost uninhabited, with a few pearl farms on the South side being the exception.)

(Looking out from our boat, there wasn't much to see other than natural splendor.)

(After our second stop, Edos was in the process of tying a rope to a big rock to help balance out the boat on our ride back. The island tour was great, but I eventually realized that the perfect beach back at Pasir Panjang was about as good as you could get, so I'd be content with that for the next few days.)

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Hoping For Paradise - Kei Islands

I had built up the Kei Islands (pronounced like the letter K) in my mind, so I really hoped they wouldn't disappoint. On the flight over, I had a talkative seatmate who, despite the obvious language difficulties, continued to speak to me about who knows what for the entire flight, as I just hoped to get a little silence and perhaps a quick nap, as my head was spinning by the end of the flight, trying to follow along with the tiny bit of Indonesian that I've learned. Soon enough, the short flight was almost over, and we passed over the first of the two major islands of the Keis. Covered in green foliage and brush, the island showed great potential, revealing only one tiny dirt road and a few coves with what looked like nice beaches from the air. We walked out of the small plane onto the runway of the tiny airport, consisting of one small room about the size of a house. In the front of the room, there was a small hole in the wall with closed shutters that turned out to be the baggage claim area, where the workers just passed the bags through the hole and passengers pushed their way to the front when their bag magically appeared. Not too high tech, but it works for a place like that, adding to the charm. I had arrived in the city of Langgur, which along with Tual, its sister city, are the capitals of the islands and home to the airport and harbor. Just outside, I found a few 'taxi' drivers waiting around the parking lot, claiming that they'd charge anywhere from $20 to $35 to take me across the island to my intended destination. I knew the fair price for a taxi was far less than that, and that a motorcycle taxi/ojek should be even cheaper, so I bargained and bargained, but they wouldn't come down low enough. Frustrated, I gave up and just started walking into Langgur, thinking that I'd either find another option or just stay the night there, since it was already very late in the afternoon. Only a minute or two into my trek, a motorcycle taxi came flying up, and I agreed to the inflated price of $5 to get across the island, though I knew the locals would probably only pay $2 or 3.

I hopped on the back of the scooter, handing my small bag to the driver to put between his legs and still wearing my big backpack. Things started off ok, but soon it was apparent that this scooter wasn't really big enough for both of us. Leaning forward to prevent my heavy backpack from pulling me off the back of the bike, I tried to hold on, eventually finding a spot to position my hands to prop myself up and try to hang on, though every hill pushed me further and further back on the end of the seat. We made our way through the paved roads of the main town and off to a bumpy, dusty road through the dry brush and trees, finally coming back to bits of pavement just in time for some steep climbs, heading directly into the sunset. I held on tightly and we finally found the small town of Ngur Bloat on the West coast of the island, meaning that I just had to find my hotel, and I'd be ok for the night. We turned off the main road and onto a tiny dirt road running parallel to the beach, fulls of bumps and roots from the surrounding trees. The driver wasn't familiar with the place I had found recommended by an adventurous European traveler who is an expert on the region, so we stopped at a few huts, asking around. The first woman claimed that her place was the one I was searching for, though she eventually admitted it wasn't once I asked why the sign had a different name. Luckily, my place was just next door, so I hopped off the back of the bike, happy to have made it without falling off and met Mr. Beny, the friendly, hospitable owner of my hotel - Penginapan Delima.

The beach here is simply called Pasir Panjang, meaning Long Beach, and it's well known as the best beach in the region, though accommodation is scarce, so I had only a choice between a place recommended in my book (meaning that the few travelers in the area would flock to that spot) or one of two karaoke bars that featured a tiny guesthouse on the side, and after I met Mr. Beny, I felt I had made the right choice. The small karaoke bar was just closing up for the night (it was a Sunday), and Beny assured me that they were only open on the weekends and would not open while a guest was staying with him. That seemed a little odd to me, but I trusted him and walked up the steps to the adjacent wooden house, featuring a long patio and three tiny rooms lined up side by side, along with a bathroom at the end of the building. It was nothing special, just a bed, mosquito net and a fan, but it seemed perfect. And for $6 a night, I wasn't really expecting anything luxurious.

Though the sun had already set, and it was quickly getting dark, I wanted to get a peek at the beach with the last bits of remaining light. It was only about 100 yards from my door to the beach, and as I walked through the rows of palm trees, a huge swath of white sand appeared in front of me, stretching for as far as I could see in both directions. Obviously I couldn't judge the beach just yet, but so far, things were shaping up pretty well. Just minutes after walking onto the beach, a group of local teenagers spotted me and ran over to talk to me and take a few pictures, a pretty good sign that foreigners aren't a common sight here. My accommodation also included home-cooked meals, so I had a simple meal of rice, instant noodles and hard boiled eggs, though Beny promised me that he'd go to the market the next day to get some fish, since they weren't expecting visitors. When I signed the guest book, I saw that I was his first visitor in about two months, so that tells you how isolated this place really is.

The next morning, I excitedly got ready and ran out to the beach. I was expecting something special, and I was still blown away. Towering green palm trees lined the beach, and the shadows of the morning were just fading away, revealing a perfectly pure white sand beach that is nearly three miles long. The most impressive part is the actual feel of the sand, literally soft as flour, made up of fine, tiny particles. This, along with Whitehaven Beach in Australia which claims the title, was literally the softest beach that I had ever felt. In addition to finding the perfect beach, the fact that I could only see two locals and no tourists in any direction made it that much better, truly giving it the isolated feel that I always long for in idyllic beaches. So I claimed one of the thatched pondoks (huts) nestled among the base of the huge palm trees and laid back to relax, content with my spot for the next week or so.

That day I took a stroll along the entire length of the beach during the middle of the day, finding that there were indeed three other foreigners on the entire 2 mile stretch, staying at the hotel listed in the guidebook. Other than that, I passed some curious children playing in the sand, attracting a whole lot of attention and shouts of "Hello, meeeesterrrrrr," a few local fishermen and a small group of guys playing soccer just off the side of the beach...and that was it...on a 2 mile beach. This is what I was expecting, yet I couldn't believe I had actually found a place like this. Later in the evening, from the relative comfort of my pondok, I watched the sunset over the horizon, ending a beautiful day in what would be an incredible week in paradise. Just after sunset, I had a few more inquisitive visitors, this time a group of three 30-50 year old women who all wanted to talk and take their picture with me. One wanted to marry me, but I politely declined, and they were eventually on their way, claiming they'd be back tomorrow, though I sort of hoped they wouldn't.

With my second day, I hired a motorcycle taxi (one of Beny's friends) and headed back into Langgur, where I needed to find an internet cafe and was hoping to find a tourist t-shirt of the islands, though both of these proved to be trying tasks. The twin towns of Langgur and Tual are separated by an inlet, and the real difference between the small towns is that Tual is Muslim and Langgur is Christian, though neither one offered much of any interesting sights, so this was mostly just a mission to the city and back. As I found out, basically, Kei Islands shirts don't exist, though my driver and I wandered through various stores and markets, finding imitation Polo, Armani, Tommy Hilfiger, etc shirts, but nothing that I was looking for. Giving up on that, we asked around for an internet cafe, so that I could check in and research a few things, taking us about 30 minutes to find one of the two places to use the internet in the city. Back on the bike to Pasir Panjang, I was happy to be a little more comfortable on this ride, not fearing falling off the back, getting back just in time to enjoy another sunset. After hearing about our adventure trying to find a shirt, Mr. Beny went home and brought me a shirt of his own that actually does say Pasir Panjang and Ngur Bloat on it...an incredibly nice gesture, though the slightly small 70s polo style wasn't quite the look I wanted. Even so, I was touched by the gesture.

(The rudimentary baggage claim system at the tiny airport of Langgur. On the way out, the metal detector was broken, so the officials just felt my backpack, apparently able to discern weapons or bombs with just the touch of a bag.)

(My first night on Pasir Panjang. These local kids immediately came up to me and wanted to practice their English and take a few pictures with me. The fact that I was such a celebrity there was a good sign, meaning that there would be few other tourists around.)

(In the morning, my first view of the beach was a good one.)

(Here is the patio where I had all of my meals on that small table, and my tiny room with just a bed, fan and mosquito net is just through that door on the left. The bathroom was just around the corner, and that was about it.)

(Looking North at Pasir Panjang. As you can see, the beach is pretty amazing and also amazingly empty.)

(Near the South end of the beach, just before the dirt track into the town of Ngur Bloat, these massive palm trees curve over the water, creating a nice little scene.)

(Venturing South past the end of the beach, I walked along the coral and rocks and found a small island off the coast, calling my name. I didn't know when, but I knew I'd have to go check it out.)

(With not too much to do on the beach, I strolled up and down the 2 mile stretch a few times, finding the extreme North end with a few rocky outcrops and also no people. This area is mostly covered in water during high tide.)

(One of the local soccer players, running back to his position as goalkeeper after taunting the other goalie after letting in a really bad goal.)

(The North side had less palm trees and a slightly narrower stretch of beach at the tip, so I was happy that my karaoke shack/hotel was on the South side.)

(A few locals getting together for a volleyball match, along with their tiny canoes.)

(One of the many enjoyable sunsets as seen from my stretch of beach.)

(Just after sunset, we had a few days with some good colors, though it wasn't quite as nice as some Hawaiian sunsets that I've seen courtesy of Paul's pictures. I guess you can't have everything.)

(One of my delicious dinners. Bananas, chili sauce, a whole fish, rice, some exotic vegetables, eggs and more. By the end of the week on the island, I became pretty good at pulling apart a fish, separating the skin and the bones from the meat, and I actually started enjoying fish much more than I had before. And yes, this was all set out just for me.)

(Just lounging in one of my two pondoks/thatched huts. This little bit of foliage proved to be helpful right before sunset, blocking the sun from shining in my face. Again, such a tough life.)

(That's my tiny wooden room with two small windows and the mosquito net hanging above the bed that I would tuck in around the mattress at night. Luckily it was dry season, so mosquitoes weren't much of a problem, but the net was still helpful since there were one or two around who would inevitably find you during the night in a place like this.)

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