Dear Marina and Ryan,

You may be asking yourself:  Why would anyone put themselves through a 28 hour bus ride like that?  And I have a good reason for you: 

LEEEEEEEEZARDS!!!!!

We finally made it to Flores in the heat of the afternoon (well over 100F) and I booked myself into a $3 bedroom to catch up on some of the sleep I never got defending myself against the rambutan ant brigade on the bus the day before.  Before heading for bed however, we ran into a hodgepodge group of fellow travellers (Canadian/Dutch/Chinese/American) who had similarly come to Flores for its close proximity to Komodo.  Before the end of the evening, we had chartered a boat, complete with chef, for the next 2 days and I went off to bed with hopes of catching a glimpse of a real Komodo Dragon in the wild.  Little did I know...

As we docked the next day on one of the three islands in the world which house these massive dragons (Leezards!), I was shocked to find that there were no guard rails, no electric fences, just a path and a couple guides with long sticks.  At this point I figured: considering the lack of attention to safety measures the likelihood of my coming across one of these things was probably pretty low and if all they use for defense is this stick...they surely can't be THAT big.  This is what I thought, until I looked directly below the staircase I was standing on to find an 8 foot monster staring back.

Cue the heeby-jeebies.  It is hard to explain how ridiculously massive and intimidating these creatures really are.  Perhaps it would help to add that the water buffalo, komodo deer and wild horses that live on the island are all helpless against their deadly saliva.  (yes, I did say saliva.  They actually don't produce venom, but rather have the most bacteria infested mouths of any animal on earth).  This one, decided it was a good idea to crawl directly toward me while grunting (apparently a sign of aggression. super.): 

 

Please note the death saliva dripping from the corner of its mouth.  After a few hours exploring Rinca and Komodo I really started to become more at ease with the beasts, stopping here and there for a few photo shoots:

After a hard day of dragon-hunting, we anchored our boat in one of the bays on Komodo, had a big feast, and watched the flying foxes (giant bats) fly over our heads as the sun fell behind the horizon. And that was just day 1!  (Or Day 52 of my trip...if you're keeping track)

The next morning, as we sailed through the islands, we caught a glimpse of a splash in the distance.  The captain (who tended to steer the boat with his feet) jumped to, and started a course directly toward the splash.  "Manta! Manta!" some of the crew shouted, and I raced up to the top deck, hoping to get a glimpse of one before they dove down.  However within minutes, we were surrounded by enormous shadows in the water.  Giant 15-20 foot flapping bat-shaped silhouettes surrounded our boat, and I couldn't believe what incredible luck I was having.  In fact, I was so shocked, that I almost failed to notice the captain and crew staring at me in wonder as to why I wasn't throwing on my snorkel and mask like everybody else...  You mean...I could actually go IN the water with these?  You didn't have to tell me twice.  

Thanks to Peter and Kim for this great footage

So there you have it: Komodo National Park.  Where foxes fly, bats swim and dragons walk the earth.  Sounds a bit like somewhere out of one of Ryan's sci-fi novels, no?  From Komodo, we embarked on a trans-Flores tour which included some incredible views, unique opportunities to see some relatively traditional villages, and yet another sunrise hike to tri-colored lakes at the top of Kelimutu in Eastern Flores.

And while we were feeling pretty comfortable in our air-conditioned 4-wheel drive, I think these kids really had the right idea on mountain road travel in Indonesia:

After a series of layovers in West Timor, Bali and Kuala Lumpur I will be on my way to Australia...but not without having been thoroughly influenced by this "dangerously beautiful" country.

Dear Becky,

I wish I could see your face.

I wish I could see your face as I tell you about a new friend of mine I have made in the last couple of weeks.  His name is: White-tip Reef Shark.  Yes, I have entered the world of insane people who actually choose to swim with sharks.  But I can't help it, Indonesia does that to you.  Let me explain:

We left Bali behind two weeks ago and decided to head East into the Nusa Tengarra (which is a fancy way of saying east of Bali).  From the moment we set foot on the ferry bound for Gili Trawangan (the first of eight islands I would hit in the last two weeks) I knew I was in for something special.  And the reason I knew this was because a pod of about 50 dolphins came back-flipping and barrel-rolling out of the ocean to tell me.
 

Dazed by the dolphin olympics, I stepped onto Gili Trawangan ready to explore the rest of the aquamarine playground surrounding the three Gili islands famous for their excellent diving, warm water and remote beaches.  It didn't take much to convince me that enrolling in the Advanced Open Water Diver Course was the way to go...and next thing you know, I'm swimming with sharks.

And while I am absolutely certain that you are horrified right now, just wait...because I haven't even told you about the night diving yet!  Seriously though, the diving in the Gilis was amazing and all in all, I saw octopi, giant morays, turtles, stingrays, scorpion and anglerfish, cuttlefish, squids, and of course a couple sharks.  And that doesn't even hit the hundreds of species of tropical fish, nudibranchs, and on and on.  Basically what I am getting at Beck, is that you better start putting away time for some dive vacations...because I won't take no for an answer...

The Gilis are the type of place where you can sit in a thatched roof bungalow on a white sand beach and drink fresh squeezed fruit juice while you waste the day away patting yourself on the back for all the hard work you did that day walking down to the waters edge once or twice.  It looks a little something like this:

And when you have had it up to here with all of this pain and suffering, don't worry, you can just hop a longtail boat from one Gili to the next...as I did when after 4 days on Gili T, I decided it was time to make the big 20 minute move to Gili Air (Air, by the way, means water in Indonesian...try to explain that one to the captain planet team).

Since there are no motorized vehicles on the islands, you have two options for getting around.

1) Circumnavigate by foot (this took me one hour on Gili Air) 

2) Hop a ride on a wagon that is pulled by Sparkles the Christmas Pony.

But of course, every dream must come to an end, and while I hate to not give sparkles his fair share of the transportation discussion in this blog, I must switch tracks to tell you about the next leg of our journey across Lombok and Sumbawa.  

Where to begin? Okay, imagine you are in a bus, and you are in the back row.  Next to the toilet.  And the seats don't recline.  But, hey, everything is okay because you have got loads of legroom.  I mean, really it was very thoughtful of this bus designer to consider that those of us that won't be able to recline for the next 28 hours may require a bit extra legroom.  So the bus leaves, and you are a little bummed about the 20-30 ants that are crawling around near the toilet, but when all is accounted for it could be worse.  really.  

20 minutes roll by and the bus stops, the back door swings open and a giant white sack filled with fresh fruit flies into the bus at your feet.  hmmmmm....you think, that's different, okay, no big deal.  And here is another.  Two Bags! wow! crazy.  But it doesn't stop.  A giant sack of carrots, maybe 10 giant boxes and a man.  A small man who crawls up behind your seat and crunches in above your head.  

And then come the ants.  An endless eruption of tiny black ants that crawl out of the various sacks and boxes and creep up your legs and down your back and you are stuck.  28 hours.  Twenty-eight hours.

But the good news is (and there is good news...I promise): at least they know where the best apples come from.

Love you miss you happy birthday.

Dear Jessalee,

Boo!

In honor of the fact that I have stolen your "big ----ing Dog" story and told it a thousand times to anyone who will listen, I dedicate this story to you.  Maybe you can use it as a long form monologue...although, I guess that would defeat the purpose of improv.  Anyway, without further ado:  Bali.

Bali.  The magical and idyllic island somewhere between paradise and heaven.  For 24 years, I have equated Bali with places like Zanzibar, Fiji and Tahiti.  Just the word alone conjures up images of lazy white sand beaches, dense tropical forests, a rich and unique cultural heritage, and maybe even a few beverages of the fruity, frosty, pineapple-on-the-rim variety.  But today (and I am going to go out on a limb here and extend that to eternity) the word Bali has taken on a new connotation for me.  And that connotation is: 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAKAKAKKAKKKKKKKKKKKKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Perhaps I should explain.  One of my new favorite activities is motorbiking.  It is an excellent way to get to know a new place and have a little freedom while doing it.  After arriving in Bali on a very slow, very uncomfortable version of a Bainbridge ferry, Emily, Justin and I headed up to the less-visited north coast of the island.  The next evening, we decided to rent a couple of motorbikes just to get a good idea of the surroundings.  (And also to get a little wind in our faces after a sweltering day).  So there I am, cruising down backroads on BALI on a motorbike...livin' the dream.  Justin and Emily are just ahead of me, and as they swerve a little right, in my headlight I catch sight of this huge (and I mean HUGE) snake in the middle of the road.  Now you may be thinking:  Ah-ha!  hence the AAAAAK(etc.).  False.  The snake was huge, but it did little more than give us a temporary thrill as we continued up the hill in search of a possible vantage  point of the ocean. 

 

At a fork in the road, we took off our helmets for a short stop during which we visited a spooky Balinese temple and discussed our slithering friend at length.  After a few minutes, I slipped back on my helmet and we took off down the road.  (For those of you who love details: we took the right fork).

Now I must entreat you to step inside a split-second of my life.  Imagine if you will, the sound of the simple flutter of a moth's wings.  Have you got it?  It's really just a soft whooshing...isn't it?  Now, and please stick with me here, imagine the sound of that same moth FLYING INTO YOUR EAR, CRAWLING DOWN YOUR EAR CANAL AND BURROWING INTO YOUR BRAIN!!!!  Because THAT is what happened to me on my picturesque back-country joyride on the hills of beautiful Bali.  (minus the whole burrowing into my brain part).

Jamming the breaks, I ripped the helmet from my head and proceeded to go insane.  Because here is the thing: the moth is so far in my ear that not even my pinky can feel it.  But, oh no, don't be fooled, I can feel it.  I can feel it from the inside...and it is STILL FLUTTERING.  So, yeah, I started going insane...thrashing my head around and honking my horn to signal Emily and Justin.  It is pitch black.  I am in the middle of nowhere (there are snakes here remember) and a mystery-bug is playing the bongos on my eardrum.  Stop me if I am over-reacting.  I dare you.

Justin and Emily return, and upon my request, Emily commandeers my bike and they drive me back down to our hotel.  Lots of people have ideas about how to remove the bug.  A friendly Balinese man and his wife suggest a Q-tip, which is a great idea....if I want to shove the bug further down into my ear canal.  The owner of our hotel suggests the phrase: "Oh Shit!"  Thanks, dude.  Much appreciated.  But it is Emily who finally locates the white abdomen of the moth deep down in my ear, and it is Justin who picks up a pair of tweezers to start going to town on my ear operation: milton-bradley style.  

First attempt:  Ear wax, and the bug digs down.  Second attempt:  more earwax (I should really do something about that) and the bug digs down.  Third attempt....moth.  A moth.  And not just any moth. A disgusting, white-abdomened, ear-attacking, hari-kari moth from Balinese hell.  And then here is the kicker:  Justin lets go of the tweezers...and the moth flies away. 

Here I've been, checking my bags at every airport and border crossing just to make sure nobody has pulled a Brokedown Palace on me...and I forgot the number 2 scariest thing about that movie....the bug-in-the-ear crazy spells.  Kate Beckinsale...I hear you.  A+ for that acting.

 

  

So there you have it Jessalee. And I've even added in pictures because I know you don't like wordy posts.  And maybe, someday, I will look back at these pictures and remember the rest of my incredible stay on Bali.  But my guess is: probably not.

Dear Jamie,

Just finished reading High Fidelity...you might hate me...but go buy it and read it.  Now.

Top 5 best songs to hike around the rim of an active volcano to (in chronological order):

1.  Supermassive Black Hole, Vitamin String Quartet version:  Ok, true, this song is the theme from the movie Twilight...which makes me incredibly lame.  BUT it is also the VSQ version which ups my cool-factor a smidge and at the end of the day, none of that matters a bit when it is 4 in the morning and you are walking across a gray dim valley covered in ash with a low misty cloud hovering overhead.  Think: The Road by Cormac McCarthy.  As if all of this wasn't enough, throw in this song to the mix and you will be covered in goosebumps for the next 3 weeks.

2.  Solsbury Hill, Peter Gabriel:  Sunrise.  I am standing on the rim of the volcano.  I use the term rim loosely.  A better phrase might be: where the two cliffs that plummet to my potential doom meet in crumbling ashy rock.  I have to sit, because standing is the scariest thing I could possibly imagine.  Ever.  Behind me is the valley I have just traversed.  In front (and down, down, down): the cracked center of the volcano where a steady stream of sulfurous smoke climbs straight up into the sky.  Behind the smoke: sunrise.

3. Be Here Now, Mason Jennings:  To be honest, I am arrested in fear.  Within 10 feet of leaving the "guard rail" behind I can't move another step.  I would like to pretend that at this moment I made the decision to face my fears and circumnavigate the entire volcano.  I did not.  What I decided to do, was stop sitting on the crumbliest part of the whole thing and move a couple feet more to where it was a little safer.  I use the term safer loosely.  The first 5 minutes went a little something like this:  just a little more, ok, too far, too scary, too alone...just a little more, ok, farther, a little less scary, just as alone.  And then I hit my first peak.  My first vista.  Suddenly the sunrise was 4 shades of red deeper and I knew that there would be no turning back.  I was here.  Now.

4. All My Days, Alexi Murdoch:  If I focus on the music, I don't think about the danger.  If I don't think about the danger, my head doesn't spin.  If my head doesn't spin, I don't topple off the volcano.  I mean seriously?  "Topple off the volcano?"  I'm not kidding...I feel like a dinosaur is going to pop out at any moment...that or Tom Hanks (anyone? anyone?)  Dawn is an amazing time of day.  You know what else is amazing? Volcanoes.  I am obviously an 8 year-old again.

5. Living in Twilight, The Weepies:  This song came on shuffle right as I was returning to start: about an hour later.  I am beaming from ear to ear.  I have never done something that felt so.....so.....

Perfect.

Be here now
no other place to be
all the doubts that linger
just set them free
and let good things happen
let the future come
into each moment
like a rising sun

sun comes up and we start again
sun comes up and we start again
sun comes up and we start again
sun comes up and we start again
sun comes up and we start again
  sun comes up and we start again  

(Mt. Bromo, Eastern Java, Indonesia)

Dear Jen,

You wanted Indonesia...you got it!

(see people...there are rewards for being an avid reader and commenter!)

After a rocky plane ride over the equator, we landed in Yogyakarta (pronounced Jogja) which is a really busy little town in Central Java.  Why so busy you ask?  Well, because the entire town is working extremely hard at selling me batik art.  And when I say the entire town...I literally mean every single person is involved in this highly elaborate scheme to convince tourists (of which there are about 20 total) that they have happened to arrive on the very last day of an art exhibition which closes at 2pm (4PM, 8PM, in 20 minutes...come now, I will show you).  But here is the thing...everyday is the last day of this "temporary" exhibit.

When you get past this little trick though, you realize this really is the Batik capitol of the world and the arts and cultural capitol of Java...and I am pretty sure I heard a local or two refer to it as "Janice Baker's Wonderland," but I'm not sure.

Aside from the hustle and bustle of the city, the main attraction in Cental Java is Borobudur, the largest stupa in the world.  Although, I still don't know what a stupa is.  But I do know Borobudur is the biggest (but not the tallest (I think)).  Clearly I did a good job of reading all the signs.  I'm more of an experiential learner anyway.

But here are some things I did learn:  you must circumambulate (I love that word) the stupa as you ascend.  This, however, isn't difficult because if you want to see the over 2500 reliefs and 400 statues of Buddah on the towering structure, then it only makes since to wind up each level until you hit the top. 

 

 

Of course, after all those circumambulations (try that one for scrabble, jen...) you can get pretty tired.

At the end of the day (11AM) I was exhausted and headed back down to Jogja where I could feast on fried fish with rice and a fresh guava juice with a chocolate and peanut butter pancake for dessert.  All for a little over a dollar.

I can't wait for the rest of this month in this country...which one sign described as:

DANGEROUSLY BEAUTIFUL