Map and itinerary – Central America

 

map_of_central-america

map_of_guatemala

26 august 2008 – Flight Iberia – Turin – Madrid – Guatemala City – by bus to Antigua

27 august 2008 – around Antigua

28 august 2008 – trekking on Pacaya volcano

29 august 2008 – from Antigua to Atitlan lake – Panajachel – around Atitlan lake

30 august 2008 – from Panajachel to Guatemala City by bus – to Flores by plane

31 august 2008 – from Flores to Tikal by bus – around Tikal – back to Flores

map_of_belize

1 september 2008 – from Flores to Belize City by bus – to Caye Caluker island by boat

2 september 2008 – snorkelling tour around Caye Caulker and San Pedro island by boat

3 september 2008 – Blue Hole tour by boat

4 september 2008 – from Caye Caulker to Belize City by boat – to San Salvador – El Salvador – by plane

map_of_el-salvador

5 september 2008 – from San Salvador to Suchitoto by bus – around Suchitoto

6 september 2008 – trekking around Suchitoto – National Park – guerrilla road – Cinquera

7 september 2008 – around Suchitoto

8 september 2008 – from Suchitoto to Ruta de las Flores by car: Sonsonate,  Apaneca, Ataco, Juayua

9 september 2008 – trekking around Juayua – coffe plantation – forest – waterfalls

10 september 2008 – from Juayua to Sonsonate – San Salvador by bus

map_of_honduras

11 september 2008 - from San Salvador to Leon, Nicaragua crossing Honduras

map_of_nicaragua

12 september 2008 – around Leon -in the afternoon from Leon to Granada by bus

13 september 2008 – around Granada

14 september 2008 – around Granada – Las Isletas tour by boat

15 september 2008 – from Granada to Rivas – San Jorge by bus – from San Jorge to Ometepe Island by boat – around Ometepe by bus

16 september 2008 – trekking around Ometepe – forest and waterfalls

map_of_costa-rica

17 september 2008 – from Ometepe to San Jorge by boat – from San Jorge to Rivas – Penas Plancas (Costarica border) by car – from border to San Josè by bus

18 september 2008 – from San Josè to Barra del Colorado by plane – from Tortuguero by boat – Turtles tour at night (giant green turtles)

19 september 2008 – around National Park by boat and trekking

20 september 2008 – from Tortuguero to Moin by boat – to Limon – Cahuita by bus

21 september 2008 – around Cahuita

22 september 2008 – from Cahuita to Bri Bri, Puerto Viejo, Sixaola – Panama border by bus – to Almirante by taxi – to Bocas del Toro by boat

23 september 2008 - around Bocas del Toro – Bocas del Drago – Playa de Las Estrellas

24 september 2008 – around Bocas del Toro – Coral Cay – Playas Ranas Rojas – Hospedaje Bay

25 september 2008 – around Bocas del Toro – to Isla Bastimentos by boat – trekking around Isla Bastimentos

map_of_panama

26 september 2008 – from Bocas del Toro to Panama City by plane – around Panama CIty

27 september 2008 – around Panama City – flight in the evening to Madrid

28 september 2008 - From Madrid to Turin, Italy

Pictures – Central America

Central America – notes from the journey

Map and itinerary – Indonesia

 

map of indonesia

29 july 2001 - Turin – Paris – Singapore – Jakarta – flight Air France

30 july 2001 – Java - Jakarta – arrive at 3.40pm  - around the city

31 july 2001 – from Jakarta to Yogyakarta by train

1 august 2001 – Yogyakarta – around the city – Borobudur Temple

2 august 2001 – from Yogyakarta to Mount Brono by bus (12 hours)

3 august 2001 – trekking on volcanos – mount Bromo – sand sea – Mount Betok -by bus to Banyuwangi and Ketapang – to Bali by boat – to Lovina (north coast) by bus

4 august 2001 – around Lovina by motorbike

5 august 2001 – from Lovina to Kuta (south coast) by bus

6 august 2001 – from Kuta – Denpasar to Maumere, Flores by plane – Merpati Airlines – around the city

7 august 2001 – from Maumere to south coast of Flores and then to Moni by car – around Moni village

8 august 2001 – trekking on Kelimutu volcano – from Moni to Riung (north coast of Flores) by car

9 august 2001 - around Riung – seventeen islands by boat – back to Riung

10 august 2001 – from Riung to Labuanbajo (west coast) by a very little boat – 12 hours

11 august 2001 – around Labuanbajo

12 august 2001 – to Seraya island by boat – back to Labuanbajo

13 – 16 august 2001 – from Labuanbajo, Flores to Lombok by boat – stop at Komodo and Rinca islands to see the Komodo dragons

17 august 2001 – arrive in Labuhan Lombok – go to Bangsal by bus (from east coast to west coast of Lombok)  - to Gili Island by boat

18 – 24 august 2001 - relax in Gili Meno island

25 august 2001 – from Gili Meno to Kuta by boat

26 august 2001 – from Kuta to Ubud by bus – around Ubud and back

27 august 2001 – from Denpasar to Jakarta by Garuda Airlines – Air France flight from Jakarta to Paris

28 august 2001 – from Paris to Turin with Air France

Pictures – Indonesia

Indonesia - notes from the journey

Five Men in a Boat

 

Five men in a boat

five man in a boatThe first story is about five travellers and their crew who while away a few days sailing in pacific waters among prisitine islands, ancient creatures and starry skies. Far from the everyday world, at the mercy of the waves and fate, the ‘uncle’, the ‘girl’, the ‘old lady’, the ‘salesman’ and ‘Don Diego de la Vega’, leave the coast of Flores Island guided by Indonesian sailors and head towards Lombok, passing by Rinca and Komodo and sailing along the coast of Sumbawa. But how did they all meet each other?

Meeting up

At sunset a few days before our adventure in the small harbour of Labuanbajo-Flores begins, the uncle and the girl arrive in port all worn out after a 12 hour journey in a canoe. After such an undertaking they had visions of somewhere basic to sleep, but these turn out to be a mirage. So what do they do? They’re walking along the main road, tired and annoyed, when they bump into three men from their homeland. Solidarity between fellow countrymen assures them a bed and plans are hatched for a boating expedition over a few beers. The group is to be composed of the following members: the ‘uncle’, who was given his name by the others in the team for his authority, the ‘salesman’, unbeatable in any business deal, the ‘old lady’ (very tall and thin, prim and proper with long hair), ‘Don Diego de la Vega’ (for his uncanny likeness with Zorro – little black beard and all), and finally the ‘girl’, the only woman in the group. Now they just have to find a crew and start the traditional negotiation process.

The deal

Dinner date with the potential sailing outfit in an inn in the hills around the bay. The captain and the deckhand introduce themselves and they’ve brought two women (occupations unknown) for ‘dessert.’ After two mugs of beer and, the salesmen, who everyone was relying on to land a good deal, loses his marbles and throws himself into a dubious chat up routine. He doesn’t realise that the only thing that matters is the price. The uncle, the old lady and Don Diego take control of the situation. They cast adrift the salesman and start to bargain themselves. The girl gets bored sitting next to the deckhand who belches like a dinosaur while he speaks to her but excuses himself and hides under the table whenever he needs to blow his nose. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. Sitting opposite her the old lady witnesses the goings on and gallantly trying to distract the deckhand in the hope of redirecting his gas emissions. A great big gecko hanging from the ceiling casts a shadow over the table. Everyone hopes that the pads on his feet have good suction. As the night wears on the combined blood alcohol limit goes way over the limit. The ‘dessert’ has changed table in search of less romantic clients on the orders of the captain. The group reaches an agreement. We leave tomorrow. A time is set to be at the docks.

Departure

In the morning our five intrepid adventurers show up together with their luggage on the dock of the small harbour of Labuanbajo for their first boat inspection. As far as size and general impression goes, it seems OK….apart from the rust. The crew will provide food as well as transport -excluding drinks….. Excluding drinks? Oh my God! The uncle and the old lady immediately set off in search of a crate of beer – fundamental for the group’s survival. They walk towards the village and return heroes after about an hour spent bargaining, and carrying back the precious, heavy crate. Last checks and we weigh anchor. The coast disappears into the distance.The boat heads out into the open sea. On the inside everyone makes the sign of the cross. On the outside, everyone opens their first beer.

The crossing

the boatThe first encounter with the waves in the open sea leaves everyone a little worried. Will it be like this for five days? They’ll have to wait to answer that. In the meantime, they roll around the boat from bow to stern, they take in the view, breathe the fresh, humid air of the open ocean, they follow the flight path of birds, and get hit in the face with bucketfuls of sea water. The first meal prepared by the ship’s cook puts everyone in a good mood: rice, fish, spicey vegetables. We eat sitting on the deck on the bridge, chatting in different languages, sign language included.

During the voyage the boat often comes across tiny uninhabited islands – honest-to-God – atolls lost in the vast blue sea that are surrounded by coral reefs inhabitied only by crabs. Docking is impossible. The captain lowers the anchor some distance away so the only way to reach the islands is to swim. One after the other, the uncle, the old lady, the salesman, Don Diego and the girl dive into the cold waves to reach the beaches that have coral pink sand made from crushed shells like gemstones. They rest in the shade of the three palms that somehow manage to grow there. They float in the water just an inch above undersea castles made of seaweed and rocks and fish and multicoloured corals. Anchored in the distance, the houseboat bops about smoothly on the waves waiting for them. When the moment arrives to weigh anchor the captain gives the order with an umpire’s whistle. This of course provokes the group to display innate Italian football behaviours: “GOOOOAAAL!” they all reply emphatically in chorus before diving into the water and swimming back to the ship using the weirdest swimming strokes: one wants to bring back on board a twenty kilo shell, another needs to keep their camera out of the water, and yet another needs to protect their sunburnt back after too much tropical sun.

During one of the many trips to these islands, different method is tried out: canoe. The crew drop a small boat carved out of the trunk of a palm tree into the sea. Don Diego and the salesman give it a go. The former manages to squeeze himself into the cockpit without any injuries. The latter gets in perhaps a little too eagerly, and lets in water. The maximum sustainable weight for the twig has been exceeded. The canoes sinks, slowly and assuredly, inch by inch. The two bear witness to their shipwreck in silence. On the bridge of the mothership the captain and the crew erupt into thunderous applause.

The main leg of the crossing includes the exploration of the mythical, ancient islands of Rinca and Komodo, with its population of Komodo dragons. The boat reaches the islands on the morning of the third day of sailing. By now the crate of beer has been totally emptied by the preceding evenings festivities. A whole day is spent hiking on dry land. Swiss, Germans, Americans face the challenge in perfect ‘explorer’ get up: trkking boots, long trousers, hat, camera with tripod, factor 60 sunscreen. Our group doesn’t really make the grade. We get off the boat with our sandals, sarongs and sunglasses and receive odd looks from those already there. However, even our group takes a look at the dragons. To their great satisfaction theymanage to come across a few of them in the bush. They are huge, impressive-looking carnivourous lizards with a deceptively sleepy appearance. We hope that they don’t notice the inappropriate footwear that would make any attempt at escape precarious at the least and probably hopeless. The group and the the crew spend the following night anchored offshore in a calm peaceful bay under an undescribeable expanse of stars. This will be remembered as the night of the salesman. A small boat sneaks up beside the ship and quick as a flash an army of tiny Indonesian warriors come aboard. On the deck hey roll out mats containing all kinds of merchandise: necklaces, bracelets, tribal masks, spears, animals carved from wood, fabric….and immediatley the salesman cracks his nuckles, sits in the lotus position, glances at his comrades and takes control of the situation. The poor Indonesians don’t know what fate awaits them. Don Diego singles out a mask and the uncle and the girl choose a 50 cm-long wooden Komodo dragon. The bargaining begins. After two hours, the salesman and the only Indonesian stil in the game are in the final stages. All the others silently watch them through the fumes of some terrible local booze, probably distilled from the exhaust pipe of a truck, and ‘kretek’, some kind of clove-smelling cigarettes . The stars watch silently too. At sunrise the following day the dragon and the mask reign over the boat from the bow.

Lombok harbour gets closer: just one day and one night of open sea around Sumbawa are left between the group and their final destination. It seems easy. It would be if only the sea hadn’t decided to become the protagoinist of this tale for the time remaining. The sea, with its waves several meters high, throws the boat and her crew around from left to right in her hands . In day light this is amusing, but in the dark of the night fear takes over. To stay attached to the deck on the bridge requires considerable strength and our five adventurers, seem like old rolled up rugs wrapped up in their blankets full of sea salt: each person is in their corner, then they’re all together, then some at the bow, others at the stern, then all together once again … and so on. At sunrise you can see that the night has left deep scars on their faces.

Arrival

The famous five’s trip finishes with little fuss on the coast of Lombok Island in some other little port. The uncle, the girl, the salesman, the old lady and Don Diego, (with a strange hairdo created by the all sea salt) take their leave of the crew and try to regain some balance and stability on terraferma. Unsteady on their feet, they find a bus that jumps along the dirt road full of potholes to take them to the lush forests of the interior inhabited by thousands of monkeys. But that’s another story.

Pictures – Indonesia

Indonesia – Map and itinerary

Indonesia – notes from the journey

Anjelino

 

Angelino: lost in Flores

Author’s note: Our guide on Flores, Angelino, is a kind and helpful person who struggles every day against all the hardships involved in making a living in an exploited and forgotten developing country. Here, many people like him earn their daily bread by taking tourists on trips in jeeps owned by rich Chinese. Of the money the employers take, the drivers probably get no more than 10%. Maybe in the following story this fact gets overlooked somewhat – hence the reason for this note. We owe him that.

The ruins of Maumere

MaumereMaumere, Flores, Indonesia: East of Java, Bali and Lombok we find the extremely poor, catholic Flores Island welcoming us one sunny morning. The small city wounded by earthquakes survives among the ruins of its old houses that have never been reconstructed. The tourists the make it this far are few and far between and naturally there’s quite a bit of competition for them among the local guides. Finding a guide is absolutely fundamental if you want to cross the island. There are very few buses and trains are non-existent. But chosing a good guide is like the lottery. We didn’t win.

Vote Angelino!

Once we got off the plane, we happened to come across a young boy who, in fluent English, convinced us to get in his car and take us to a small hotel (his uncle’s, of course). We make a time to meet in the afternoon to bargain about a price for a tour of the island in the days to come. The pros about him are as follows: excellent English, similar age to us, nice, car at his disposal. The cons are: the price. As stingy as two Scotsmen, we launch into an exhausting bargaining session, we were certain we’d get the better of him. Result: our friend leaves us with an “I’ll think about it” and disppears into the ether. Having lost the first round ofdeal-making, we meet a series of other guides, we weigh up offers and, after a lot of thinking, we chose Angelino: middle-aged, thin and bearded, serene but very persistent. Why did we chose him? That’s a question we’re still asking ourselves.

Angelino drive a car

CarThe following morning, our man Angelino meets us at sunrise for our departure. In front of us are many miles and several days in his company – through forests, volcanoes, isolated villages and dirt roads. On the first leg of our tour he surprises us immediately when we try to understand why we’ve stopped by the side of the road to look at the bark of a tree. His English vocabulary consists of about 10 words. But why didn’t we notice that yesterday?

What language did we bargain in? Oh well, we can’t go back now. We’ll try to use sign language. Our guide drives along the dirt and stone roads, totally relaxed – a little too relaxed actually -especially when we’re going round corners or when we meet other vehicles coming in the opposite direction. Every ten minutes he lights up a Kretek, smelly cloves cigarettes with mildly halluconigenic effects, and his car starts to reveal the signs of shoddy repairs. God preserve us!

Terror in paradise

After an entire day of bunny hops along the island, various trips, some of them incomprehensible, and failed attempts at conversation with our man Angelino, we finally arrive at Moni, in the interior, at the foot of a volcano that we’ll visit tomorrow morning. We find somewhere to stay and after a walk in the rice paddies we discover our little paradise. A pond full of warm water and a waterfall over the rocks. Trousers off! We dive straight in.

It must have been the atmosphere, or the tiredness but somehow we are struck with a brilliant idea: Let’s swim right under the waterfall…yes go on! So that’s what we o and here we are under the powerful stream of water that… in two seconds flat drags us down into an unexpected whirpool. We manage to get out somehow after drinking a good deal of water. We know all about potential gastro-intestinal problems – but what could we do! So just to spoil the magical, poetic moment, we put two fingers down our throat…. we go back to our hut cursing ourselves. Maybe noone saw us. Here’s hoping.

Rally on the volcano

It’s still night when Monsieur Angelino proudly takes his place behind the Jeep’s steering wheel: We have to go with him almost to the summit of the Kelimutu volcano. Here’s how it was: it’s dark, freezing, the memory of the previous night is ingrained in our memory – Angelino, drunk on Arak, dancing on the table and singing at the top of his voice. To go up or not to go up – that is the question? We go up. After the first few corners in the forest, a telling off for uncontrolled skids, three yellow cards for whiplash caused by driving over hidden potholes, fifteen verbal warnings for excessive speed on muddy terrain, we decide Angelino can go to hell. But Angelino immediately calms down (or maybe he wakes up?!) and manages to get us up to the top of the hill unharmed. We will live to see another sunrise.

Pissed off in the plains

on the roadAfter the rally and the sunrise on Kelimutu, the day proceeds with a long trip to the Riung. Miles and miles of roads that certainly don’t do much for Angelino’s car. Infact after a few hours we need a mechanic. We go to the first village and we stop the car infront of a workship. That is, maybe it’s a workshop: men at work, screwdrivers, hammers, some tubes: yes it has to be a workship. Angelino opens the coffin, distraught, and starts the consultation. A few people gather around the motor.

Everyone puts in their two cents worth, except our driver, who doesn’t know anything about motors. He trusts the experts. The Surgical/mechanical team, after various discussions, opts for an open-bonnet excision of the carburator without anesthetic. It is put on the ground, actually on the soil that is, and gets hammered at with enthusiasm by various members of the team in turn. Probably to end its suffering. No, maybe not. Now the mass of battered metal get reinserted, two more blows and it’s done.

Off we go again followed by the looks of the mechanics that observe us with a mixture of compassion, incredulity and derision. While Angelino takes us away we have our noses stuck to the window, mute, looking at our last hope fading away.

Not even an hour later the jeep gives off its last gasp and dies on the side of the road. It’s really dead this time. Angelino won’t accept it: destiny, the inevitable, his lack of understanding of cars: he buries his head in the motor and plays around with things for an hour or two.

We try to help him but he doesn’t even respond to us. From feeling solidarity and sympathising with his pain we become exasperated at his obstinate muteness. Also because it’s getting dark and we are in the most deserted, wide open plains ever seen. And then a miracle happens. A truck appears skipping along on the horizon. We run away without hesitating.

As we run away, we feel like traitors, but sometimes you just have to trust your instincts.Bye Angelino, hope to see you again … sooner or later.

Preferably later.

Pictures – Indonesia

Indonesia – Map and itinerary

Indonesia – notes from the journey

Indonesia 2001

 

Siapa nama anda? Nama saya Indonesia!

What’s your name? My name is Indonesia!

Indonesia - Labuanbajo

Indonesia - Labuanbajo

This was our first trip togheter, me and Valeria. We choose Indonesia probably because Bali was a good choice for a newly formed couple. Then we discovered Java, Lombok, Flores, and at the end the only place we overlooked was actually Bali, with the bustling with tourists (actually ugly, we thought) Kuta Beach.

So we travelled from Jakarta to Yogyakarta, then east to Bali (to Lovina in the quieter North) then by plane to Flores, a beautiful, lush island with Catholic traditions due to the Portuguese colonization, then by boat we got back to see Komodo and Rinca, home of  the terrifyng Komodo Dragons and back to Labuanbajo, to Lombok and back to Bali to catch the plane which took us to Jakarta for the return flight.

Indonesia is a fascinating big country, divided into hundreds of islands and islets, with many different dialects and religions. The country is mostly muslim, but Bali is Hindu and Flores Catholic. Java is incredibly crowded (100 million people packed in an island big as a quarter of Italy) , in Flores you can drive for miles seeing only palms and absolutely no one around. It is a country suspended between the indian subcontinent and the Chinese economic influence from the North. In 2001 when we were there the first big economic crisis had struck, people were desperately trying to make ends meet, but we found deep humanity and dignity in all of them.

It is a country full of startling differences, both geographical and cultural, in just one month you can only scratch the surface of an entire melting pot of languages , habits, religions, but it’s definitely a place to see, and maybe return. So Long, Indonesia.

See our:

Map and itinerary

Pictures of Indonesia

Read our Stories about Indonesia : AnjelinoFive men in a boatA weird soccer game

© 2003 - 2012 Aguaplano Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha
Stop SOPA