Us Crazy Bule

All of the Indonesians we told our plan to looked at us like we were crazy. "We're going to walk over the mountain," we said. "Why?", most replied. "For fun and exercise!", we retorted back. A little smile and a chuckle was all we got in return. Were we really that crazy for hiking over the mountain? About only 45 minutes into the trek, we answered that question with a resounding, "YES!"

We decided to spend Muhammad's 1439th birthday (K had a three day weekend for the holiday) by taking a little trip to Danau Toba. Danau Toba is one of the largest crater lakes in the world, and the prevailing theory is that it was created by a supervalcanic eruption so large, that it covered the entire subcontinent of India with 15cm of ash. In the middle of Danau Toba is Samosir Island. Samosir is home to the Batak people, and a small portion of the island is dedicated to a long row of fancy guest houses for tourists. Deciding that we needed a little exercise, we shunned a weekend of sitting on the lake and instead planned a trek from one side of Samosir (Ambarita) to the other (Pangururan).

Our journey began Friday evening at about 5pm. Being a holiday weekend, we sat in traffic for much of the way. We arrived in Parapat, the ferry launching point for Samosir, at 11pm and checked into a guesthouse. The owner of the place was sleeping, so a security guard showed us to a room. It was about as basic as you get, but we just needed some sleep. Unfortunately, sleep did not come easily. There was a red headed Australian dude sitting outside of our room downing beers and clipping his toenails. Every time we left the room for the toilet, he engaged us in conversation. The topics ran from mind control to the caged serpent that was in charge of everything. CREEPY.

We woke up early the next morning to take the ferry to Samosir. Everything went somewhat according to plan, and we were in Ambarita by 11:30am for a late delicious breakfast of nasi goreng (fried rice) before starting on our trek. We were about 15 minutes into the hike when the camera battery died. Yeah...A forgot to charge it before we left, and where we were going to be staying, power outlets would be hard to find.K starts the trek

The view just before the camera died

The trek up the mountain took us about four hours, but it was one of the hardest four hours we had experienced in quite some time. About half way up the mountain, the rain started to fall, and visions of leeches and mud slides flashed through our heads. It felt familiar, but without a well marked trail and a guide to tell us how close we were, it was all a little unsettling. Our fears subsided when shortly after we crossed a small stream, a sign appeared pointing toward Jenny's Guesthouse. We would find shelter soon.

The town we found ourselves in was the true definition of a one horse town. Okay, it was a five water buffalo town, but it was tiny. About six traditional Batak houses lined a flat area. One of them was Jenny's Guesthouse. Upon our arrival, three children greeted us and led us to the right house. Our accommodations at Jenny's consisted of a thin mattress in an unlit room. We would spend the rest of our day playing chess and play-fighting with our new young friends on the front balcony.

A traditional Batak house

As night began to fall, two more boule (Indonesian for white people), made the same broken crawl across the field that we made to Jenny's. It was two Swiss girls who had been trekking since 9am and had gotten lost. We thought our day was rough! Shortly behind them was Jenny, who had spent a long day working in the rice and coffee fields. She was the mother of one of the seven year old children we had made friends with, but she looked old enough to be his grandmother. She couldn't hear very well or see out of one eye. Her reward for her long day was to cook the four of us dinner. She had the roughest day of all of us, but it was of course just another day for her.

Bedtime came early that night. The limited power supply had run out, and we needed to get up early the next morning for an even longer trek. The Lonely Planet told us we would be hiking for five hours on this next leg. The Swiss girls would be joining us, and we all hoped that the rain would hold off until late afternoon.

The last portion of the trek was difficult. The sun beat down on us, and we were all still beat up from the day before. However, the path was clearly marked, and the beauty of what came over each hill fanned the fire of curiosity to discover what was next. Plus, we needed this to be over with. We pushed ourselves through coffee and rice fields. We saw water buffalo rolling around in tiny lakes. Children from every house ran out to yell, "hello mister!" It was the only English they knew. Churches were alive with Sunday afternoon choirs. It was as if we were living out a chapter in a story book from long ago. Sorry...our words will have to suffice. The camera battery was still not charged.

Just as it was about to rain, we reached our destination. We had completed the trek, and it was time to hit the tourist area of Tuk-Tuk to recharge our batteries and take a much needed hot shower. We checked into one of the nicest hotels in the area and got a room for less than $15. It's hard to spend money in Indonesia!

K and A at Tabo Cottages

We had a nice big meal of fish, rice, and fresh vegetables. We then sampled some local whiskey with dessert. Unlike most people in Indonesia, the Bataks are Christian, so alcohol and pork are allowed to be consumed. That makes for a heavenly combination for K and A! After our feast, A charged the camera battewe drifted off into a deep sleep in our lofty bedroom.K drinking morning coffee

The next day consisted of sitting, and more sitting. The line of cars was so long, it was hopeless to get back to the mainland on the 1pm ferry.The scene at the ferry port

The only other option was to drive through several mountain ranges from the other side of the island. Samosir isn't actually an island. A small strip of land connects it in one place to the mainland. The drive was extremely rough and slow going. We drove through little town after little town. Nine hours later we arrived home in Medan.

What a journey!