Road Trip along the Algarve Coast

Tuesday, June 26, Road Trip along the Algarve Coast
We walk back to our hotel to recharge our phones and collect our clean laundry and take a taxi to Euro Rental Car. Art is miserable and anxious over my arrangement to rent a car for our drive south to the coast and he makes no “bones” about it.  Our intention is to spend the night in Salema and there is no direct public transportation. I reserved a car in advance and when I ask for a map, the woman behind the desk informs me that they have run out of maps. Unbelievable!. The man behind the counter assures us that the GPS will get us there easily and sets the GPS to English with our end destination, Salema. He also prints out Google map directions and we are on our way via countless roundabouts before we access the highway and Art begins to relax. The drive is to take us 3.5 hours and we expect to arrive at the coast around 8:00 P.M. The golden rolling hills are dotted with cork oaks and the countryside looks much like the stretch of California between King City and Santa Barbara. We see a few storks nesting in roosting platforms, telephone pole high along the highway. Our credit card is connected to a prepaid device attached to our windshield that  records the various tolls when we pass through. Every so often, we pass under an arch with multiple recording devices hanging down and our car beeps as another Euro or two are added to our bill. The GPS is excellent and eventually Art concedes that the drive is not so terrible after all.  We stop at designated rest stop to use the facilities and pick up snacks. It is not unlike any U.S.A. freeway rest stop. The countryside becomes steeper and is visually dramatic in the late afternoon light.

Salema Portugal
Salema Town
A peek of the beach











Navigating is a bit more complicated when we near the coast and Art is tiring from the drive and I wish that I could take over but he is to be the only driver on our contract. We head east toward Sagres, the furthest point of Europe and begin looking for the turn off to Salema. Although we make a few wrong turns, we are soon winding down toward the coast and arrive in Salema, a small sea side tourist town and fishing village. Art finds street parking and we walk a block to the village center and at the first hotel, inquire about a room. We are relived that there is availability and take the 3rd floor, 80 Euro room. Although the hotel boasts 3 stars, the room has seen brighter days but we do have an ocean view and aside from sleeping we will spend little time here. We stow our luggage and head downstairs to explore the town and choose a restaurant for dinner. A soccer game is playing in the hotel bar so our foray outside is slightly delayed but we are soon walking along the peaceful waterfront where we have half a dozen restaurants to choose from. We choose one owned by a German couple where we sit and sip glasses of wine and wait for our meals.  Art orders seafood pasta and I choose a goat cheese salad. Our meals are reasonably good.  After dinner we stroll along the one cobble stone street of the town and return to our hotel for the night.
Wednesday, June 27th. Sagre, The Furthest Point of Europe and onto Tavira. 
The included breakfast at our hotel is uninspiring. It is a beautiful sunny morning and we walk down to the harbor and turn right along the white sandy beach. The water is crystal clear but Atlantic Ocean cold as we walk along the edge of the gently lapping sea. The ocean is so still that we are tempted to go kayaking but other things are on our day’s agenda and we content ourselves with a peaceful beach walk along this pristine and dramatic beach. Yellow and orange sandstone cliffs rise dramatically above the beach. It is low tide and the slabs of rock that were underwater at high tide are carpeted with a lush green sea moss. The montage of colors; azure blue ocean, white sand, mossy green rocks and yellow and orange cliff faces make this beach one of the most dramatically beautiful ones I have had the privilege of making footprints on. 

Salema Beach
Salema Beach













Art, Salema Beach

Red cliffs and mossy rocks along Salema Beach














We walk to the end of the sandy crescent and retrace our path towards the slowly waking village. Although Salema used to be an active fishing village, there are now only half a dozen old salts still making their living fishing and trapping octopus. We walk towards the other end of the beach and watch a small tractor launch a fishing boat out to sea. Another fishing boat on the sand collects it’s nets with a mechanical clipping churn and I ask if I may take a photo? The weathered fisherman nods and I take a video of them rolling in their nets. Further up the beach rests another fishing boat but when I ask to take a photo the fisherman scowls and shakes his head. 

Octopus traps
Fishermen and their nets
Salema Town
We return to our hotel via the cobble stone shop lined street, check out and drive the 10 kilometers to Sagres, the most southwestern point of Europe. Parking at light house is jammed and souvenir and food wagons line the blustery path to the lighthouse. Nevertheless, the cliff side views are breathtakingly beautiful and we take full advantage of the photo ops before starting our drive back towards Tavira.

View from the Sagres lighthouse
Cliffs of Sagres
Studio Bongard at the Sagres lighthouse
Bongard fish sculpture

Art now has the hang of roundabouts and we are soon on the toll highway and the two hour drive to Tavira is easy. Although most of the drive is inland, we stop in Lagos for a marvelous fish lunch. 

The Algarve coastline
Lagos harbor








Fish restaurant in Lagos










We arrive in picturesque Tavira about 2:00 P.M, find street side parking and set off to the tourist office to find a room for the night. The day is insufferably hot and the woman at the IT tourist office is far from charming. She suggests a 4 star hotel and our inquiry about a few simpler hotels suggested in the Rick Steves guide book seems to displease her. She scrawls a few suggestions on a city map and we are off to investigate our options. All are close by but the first guest house is fully booked as well as one of the Rick Steves recommendation. We walk 10 minutes along the riverfront and come to the Marina Hotel which has a double river view room available for 80 Euros a night including breakfast. The room is lovely with a vintage tile bathroom and a balcony overlooking the river.

Tavira, a city built on two sides of the river
Our river front hotel
The view from our hotel balcony

We begin the Rick Steves Old City walk, stopping first in a Café so Art can watch a few minutes of the World Cup and to refresh with a sparkling orange drink and an espresso. The red tile roofs and secluded gardens of Tavira are lovely and we follow Rick’s suggested walk in the stifling heat of the afternoon. 

Rooftop view of Tavira
Tavira garden
The riverfront drive open to vehicles
Later tonight there will be music!

We come to a small plaza and I see the curtained entrance to a Fado Theatre, a recommended 30 minute experience that includes a 10 minute movie of the history of Fado and a 20 minute performance. We have fortuitously arrived 5 minutes before the 5:15 P.M. show and we pay the 8 Euros each and enter the theatre. (Art is not enthused and the guide book has the price listed at 5.5 Euros, not 8 so Art wears his pained expression throughout the tedious performance.) His sour mood does not lessen until we are back outside even with the post performance shot of port, included in the ticket price.  This is one of the few times where I feel that Rick Steves may have gotten it wrong and I am relieved the show is just 30 minutes long.

Fado Historia
Inside the Fado Historia






Tile rooftops of Avira











We return to our car and Art navigates the narrow streets to our hotel where we will have free parking until 9:00 A.M. tomorrow morning. Quick showers and our air conditioned room soon revive us and we head out to enjoy the evening. We sit for drinks at an outdoor café and as Art watches a few minutes of a soccer game, I find contentment in people watching and enjoying a glass of crisp Portuguese wine. It is still daylight when we cross the pedestrian bridge to search for a restaurant for dinner.

Pedestrian bridge in Tavira
Afternoon light in the old city
Restaurants and cafes
















The outdoor tables at Aquasul Restaurant are full or reserved but we are fortunate that they have a single available table for 2 inside and we slip into our seats gratefully. The tuna Carpaccio with arugula is exceptional as is the chicken curry. We order individual glasses of wine and Art, anxious to sample more of the excellent food orders mushroom ravioli, a mistake of overindulgence. Dinner with 2 glasses of wine each is about 50 Euros or $60 including tax and tip. It is close to midnight by the time we climb the stairs to our hotel room.

Thursday, June 28th – The Saga of the Rental Car Return – Tavira
Because I am not authorized to drive the rental car, Art must return it today in Faro. Although Faro is only about 30 miles away, we both know that it will take the better part of the morning for him to return it at the Faro airport and catch a bus back to Tavira. Art graciously agrees to do this alone while I stay in town and catch up on writing and some Marty Magic business. Art drives off around 9:30 A.M. and I sit at a simple café near our hotel and write for a couple of hours, sipping on sparkling water to stay hydrated. 

A blissful morning writing at a riverfront cafe. 

It’s another sweltering day and I want to find something cooler to wear. For a seasoned traveler, I have not packed appropriately. The jeans that the hotel laundered in Evora are now too tight to wear comfortably and I want to blame it on the hot water and dryer and not on the extra calories that I have been consuming. This heat calls for a cool dress and set out along the strip of shops adjacent to our hotel and buy a knee length blue cotton dress and a light straw hat. Art texts me to inform me that the rental car return process sucks but that he thinks he is on the right bus back and will arrive in Tavira at 2:25 P.M. I text a reply that I will meet him at the bus station, a short walk from our river front hotel. 

Secluded cafe along the river
Boat docking in Avira












Understandably, he is not in the best of moods when he returns but after recharging at our hotel, we set out to enjoy the late afternoon in Tavira. We stop briefly in the cool of an Irish pub to watch a few minutes of the World Cup and then wanter onto an upscale riverfront café for cool drinks and tidbits of calamari. Everything is very affordable, making cafe and bar hopping fun and financially painless.  A house wine costs about 2 Euros ($2.50) and the premium wines about twice that amount. Tax and tip are included in the prices so by California standards, café hopping is extremely affordable and delightful in this picturesque town of whitewashed buildings and narrow cobblestone streets. As the afternoon turns to evening, street musicians and performers stake their territory on the bridge and in the plazas.

A balmy Tavira evening

We choose an inviting rooftop restaurant for dinner but the meal is disappointing although the semi sweet white wine with the chameleon on the label is excellent. It is after 10:00 P.M. as we walk back towards our hotel and we hear dance music. There is music in the Zocalo near our hotel. Art fast walks his pack and my purse back to our room and returns shortly, hand outstretched and pulls me onto the square where we join the other dancers. Although Polka is not our dance, we find quite a few songs that we can dance to in the welcome cool of the evening. We are beginning to understand the afternoon ‘siesta.’ Business are open between 10:00 A.M. – 1:30 -2:00 P.M. They then close for several hours, opening again at 4:00 P.M. or 5:00 P.M. and remaining open until 9:00 P.M. or 10:00 P.M. Restaurants, bars and cafes are open until midnight. Young children play and dance with their parents late into the evening. It is simply too hot in the mid-day to do much more than ‘siesta.’


Stone Circles and the Chapel of Bones

Monday, June 25th – Lisbon to Evora
The train station we depart to Evora from is out by the Zoological Gardens and Art wishes to take the metro. Although the metro stop is not far and our luggage is minimal, it is still an effort to maneuver rolling suitcases over cobblestone streets and down into the depths of the metro. Art takes the brunt of it and eventually we pop up at the metro stop nearest to the train station. We are unnecessarily early and our train is somewhat delayed but by 5:30, we are onboard and on our way to Evora. Although we have assigned seats, our car is only half full and the passengers are taking the seating assignments loosely until a few stops along, an entire troupe of girl scouts board and we watch the harried leader find their assigned seats to contain her brood. Their appearance requires most of us onboard make way for them and to scurry into assigned seats.
We arrive in Evora slightly after 6:30 P.M. and take a taxi the short distance to our hotel just inside the old city walls. The taxi metering is different in Evora than in Lisbon but in spite of the higher rate, our 10 minute ride to our hotel is less than 6 Euros. Our hotel, the Albergaria do Calvarios is a beautiful property and almost too upscale for my tastes. We are graciously welcomed and offered drinks in their outdoor courtyard café bar but Art is anxious to watch the soccer game and does not want to do so in the enclosed bubble of our hotel. Our room is elegant and spacious with a view overlooking the red tile roofs of the old city. The modern marble bath has a bidet, which in addition for its intended purpose, I will appreciate for washing and soaking my tired feet after  a long day of walking cobble stone streets. There is no time to waste now however and after depositing our luggage we race along the old city streets to the town square in search of an outdoor café showing tonight’s World Cup game. 

Inside the Evora City Walls
Roof top view from our hotel window.
Courtyard of the Albergaria do Calvarios Hotel













Back street cafe, Evora




Evora city square
The center square cafes have no T.V. screen and we are directed to a side street where several overflowing cafes are showing the game. Although we stand for some minutes and ask about adding a table near the back, there is no seating. We find a sterile indoor café showing the game and each order a drink. Not being a sports fan, I position myself, back to the game and write this blog. At half time, Art wanders out to make reservations for dinner after the game however can’t find the intended restaurant in the maze of narrow back streets. It must be 9:30 when the game ends and we set out in search (again) for the Tasquinha do Oliveira Restaurant, highly recommended in Rick Steve’s guide book. The handsome but casually dressed Matridis is standing outside and when we ask if we can eat there tonight he replies, “I don’t know; are you hungry?” He explains that we don’t get to choose, that dinner is a set price of 25 Euros each and that it will include salad and starters, a main course with side dishes and include dessert. Wine is additional. We accept his challenge and are seated at the end of a table for 6. We already know that this restaurant is not for vegetarians and want to experience the local cuisine. As it turns out, had Art been able to find this restaurant during half time, the table for 6 was booked but the party didn’t show, so we are fortunate. 

Appetizers at Tasquinha do Oliveira Restaurant
Main course of roasted pork neck and potato



















We ask the waiter his suggestions for wine and he brings us each ample pours of white wine to pair with the starters followed by glasses of red to accompany the main course. Bring it on! For starters, a perfectly dressed, fresh greens, tomato and tuna Carpaccio salad arrives. Hearty bread and crackers arrive momentarily accompanied by an antipasto platter of cheese fondue, an assortment of cheeses, slices of sausage and salami and three remarkable dipping sauces.  What sits before us is more than an ample meal and this is just the beginning. Everything is exceptional and we pace ourselves. A much younger couple is seated at the opposite end of our table for 6. They are from Florida and this is their first night of their honeymoon; each having arrived in Evora from different destinations earlier in the day. The main course is roasted pork neck, roasted potatoes and a spinach soufflé. I rarely eat meat but the melt in your mouth pork is delicious and the savory soufflé is rich and fluffy. We can make only a small dent in the main course and unfortunately,  because of our travel schedule we will not be able to take the leftovers home. We converse with the Floridian newlyweds while waiting for the dessert course to arrive. A mint, lemon and oregano sorbet cleans our palate followed by a sampling of chocolate desserts. The bill is 60 Euros, tip and tax included. The meal is an extraordinary experience.
Tuesday, June 26, Evora’s Megalithic Sites and the Chapel of Bones.

The included breakfast in our hotel is marvelous but after last night’s feast, I try to choose wisely. The fresh fruit salad is wonderful, as is the egg frittata. An array of out of the ordinary pastries tempts from the buffet but I resist their call and help myself to seconds on the fruit and sip the strong cappuccino. We pass a bag of dirty laundry to reception that will be washed during our archeological excursion to the stone circles.  Mario arrives at 10:00 A.M. and another couple also staying at this hotel and surprisingly from Lost Gatos, California are on our small tour of 6. We climb into the comfortable mini bus with Mario and a driver and pick up a couple from Macau in the center of town.

View of the Megalithic Stone Circle

Megalithic Stones
Explanation of the Stones

Art taking shade in the sweltering Evora heat
Marty and the Stones

Mario has his masters in archeology and is articulate, personable and extremely knowledgeable. Our first stop on the Megalithic tour is an amazing stone circle site. Unlike Stonehenge, there are no velvet ropes to separate us from the magic of this extraordinary site. This is wonderful for us but terrible for the preservation of the site.

Our next stop requires a trek through farmer’s fields where hemlock, Queen Ann’s lace and thistles grow wild. I am struck by the beauty of the wild flowers and interested to see hemlock first hand and to learn the visual difference in identifying hemlock versus Queen Ann’s Lace. Cattle graze in the surrounding fields and the acorns from the plentiful cork oaks are processed and used as feed for the livestock. We come to a lone standing megalithic stone, part of the stone circle we visited earlier but downhill from the cluster of stones and to the West. There is another similar stone in the same position downhill and to the East that we do not have time to visit.

Cork Oak Trees
Thistle

Single Megalithic Stone
Flat topped Queen Ann’s Lace

Our final stop is the site of a burial mound. We drive along a dirt road past groves of cork oaks and park, walking a short uphill path to the burial site. Mario explains that this site has been carelessly excavated with explosives prior to understanding the importance of such a discovery. A circle of huge slabs of stone form a cave like crypt where 12 -15 bodies were buried. These monumental stones were then topped by a larger slab that has been slid away and lies cracked at the top of the site. This cap stone is about 20 feet across. The site was previously covered by dirt to form an invisible mound in the rolling landscape.

Burial Crypt 

Inside the burial crypt

Inadequate cover of the site.

Broken capstone from the Crypt

Mario drops us off in the town center of Evora. We pay him the 25 Euros each for the remarkable tour and although tipping is not expected in Portugal Art passes him 5 Euros, saying “because we are Americans.” 

Roman Temple of Diana

It is 1:00 P.M. and we quickly choose a sidewalk café and order tuna salads to somewhat compensate for last night’s over indulgence. We walk to the Roman Temple of Diana, visit the Roman Cathedral and climb to it’s roof top for a view of Evora. 


Roof top of the Roman Cathedral
Roof top of the Roman Cathedral


Art ontop of the roof
Roof top of the Roman Cathedral
The Cathedral Cloisters

The interior of the Cathedral




































The highlight of Evora proper is a visit the Chapel of Bones. It was built in the 16th century by a Franciscan Friar who wanted those who visited to contemplate that life is transitory.  The Chapel is remarkably macabre and beautiful. 

Panorama of the Chapel of Bones – Evora Portugal

The walls and pillars of the interior are lined with human bones. Skulls decorate the archways and leg bones form the columns. Every inch of the interior is paved with bones. 

Mummified bones
Illuminated skulls and bones



Single wall of bones in the Chapel of Bones
Skull and femur columns

Skull and bone walls
Skulls decorate the arched ceilings




A Peek at Portugal

June 2018 – San Jose California to Lisbon Portugal

Stone Circle in Evora, Portugal
Chapel of Bones in Evora, Portugal

Friday, June 21st 

I am less stressed  than usual preparing to leave for this trip. Our alarm sounds at 4:30 and I shower quickly and zip the last of my toiletries into my small suitcase. Last night I made coffee and I microwave a cup and check my e-mail one last time. Our Uber driver is 10 minutes early and as he loads Art’s and my minimal baggage into his mini-van, he suggests that we teach his wife to travel as lightly. We leave precisely at 6:00 A.M. arriving at the San Jose airport much earlier than necessary. I’ve checked in online and we scan our passports and print our luggage tags and drop off our two bags. Security is a breeze even before we notice that we are TSA pre-check approved we have waited  through the longer line. We eat a leisurely but uninspired and overpriced breakfast at Gordon Biersch and wait for our plane to board. We are routed through Phoenix to Philadelphia with an overnight flight to Lisbon. We have a tight connection in Phoenix with no time to buy food but luckily there are still pesto chicken wraps available for our seat row before American Airlines runs out of food for purchase. The remainder of the passengers must settle for Pringle potato chips and snack packs. Art and I share head phones and watch I Tonya on his I phone and land in Philadelphia with an hour to spare before our international flight to Lisbon. Unfortunately there are no gates available for our plane and we wait anxiously on the runway as minutes tick by. Our slightly over an hour layover shrinks to less than 30 minutes as we are held captive on the plane. The stewardess announces that some passengers have tight connections and when our plane finally reaches the gate, those of us with connecting flights push through the aisle and into the terminal.
Our plane to Lisbon is already boarding and we have just 25 minutes to get to our next gate in an entirely different wing of the terminal . We fast walk and jog past other travelers and along the moving walkways. I am winded and Art takes the lead when I see a motorized passenger cart going the opposite way. I call out to the driver and he spins around in the near empty wing of the terminal. I climb aboard and we speed along the corridor slowing down to pull Art onboard.  We are the last passengers to board our plane before the doors close and we will discover when we land in Lisbon that our bags did not run as fast as we did and will have adventures of their own without us.
Minutes before the doors to the plane close, we squeeze into two cramped airline seats and I am grateful that we are both of moderately small stance. We are torn between taking our Ambien immediately or waiting for dinner and doing without the extra 2 hours of sleep. We opt for eating dinner and I give American Airlines credit for serving the hot mini TV style dinners quickly with ample glasses of wine. I comment to Art that the crew is trying to sedate their passengers for the 7 hour flight. I pretzel up and sleep several continuous hours waking just before weak and tepid coffee and breakfast is served.
The Case of the Wayward Luggage.  Friday, June 22nd – Lisbon
Entering Portugal is a breeze and we are quickly through customs and watch in vain as the luggage carousel circles endlessly without depositing either Art’s or my luggage. Apparently, our luggage could not run as fast as we did between our Philadelphia to Lisbon leg of our trip. Although disappointed, I am not overly stressed and we file a lost luggage claim.  I am optimistic that our bags will arrive on tomorrow’s 9:15 A.M. flight from Philadelphia and that I will be wearing clean clothes by noon tomorrow. 
We take the inexpensive ($4 each) Aerobus from the airport to the Rossio Train Station which is just downhill from our Zuzabed Bed and Breakfast hotel. The steep and cobblestone streets between the plaza and our Zuzubed Guest House are picturesque and we only get moderately lost. I am hot and sticky by the time we arrive at our hotel and our host Luis is more that helpful in taking down claim and phone numbers for our wayward luggage. We are grateful for the assistance and the ice water but anxious to make our escape to our room and ultimately to begin exploring Lisbon on our own. Unfortunately it is still late morning and our room isn’t ready yet and Luis suggests a restaurant. The meal is mediocre at best, helped along only by a carafe of Sangria. We enjoy the ambience of a working class clientele but my two fried mackerel stare up at me with dead eyes and I struggle with the crispy skin and the countless bones. The appetizer dish of black olives with pits has more meat than my fish and I pick my way through pits and bones. Despite delayed luggage and a disappointing lunch, I am in good spirits, not too jet lagged and looking forward to getting my bearings in this picturesque old city. 

Fish and sangria lunch
The stairs up to our Zuzabed hotel

 








The plaza at the bottom of the stairs












We stroll the shopping streets in our district and Art, needing a change of clothes, buys a shirt at the El Ganso store. I also look for something clean to wear but to no avail. We know that the best case scenario for being reunited with our baggage will be noon tomorrow and we head back to our hotel to shower and rest.  Our hotel is in perfectly situated in the Chiado district sandwiched between the Baixa and the Bairro Alto. We are in the heart of the old city and once again the Rick Steves guide book has served us well. Our accommodations are street level, on a narrow cobblestone street and although not luxurious, we have a sitting area and tiny kitchen. We shower and take a short rest and partially recharged, walk down towards the waterfront to watch Brazil versus Costa Rica compete in the World Cup. Unfortunately, Art has misread the time and the game is over when we arrive. Although another game is onscreen, the sun blazes down and there is no shade.

World Cup Soccer Game showing at the Lisbon waterfront plaza


We wander back up the long shopping promenade looking for the perfect café where we might sit for a cooling drink on this hot afternoon. For those of you who don’t know our bad habits, Art can seldom find the perfect café or restaurant and after an hour, I am tired and exasperated. Eventually we come to a picturesque cobblestone park just above our guest house and sit and sip drinks in the shade of flowering Jacaranda trees. Art sips port and I sip crisp white wine at 2.5 Euros each. A wonderful group of musicians perform in the plaza and we are blissfully happy.

Art in a clean shirt outside of our hotel
The outdoor cafe in the Jacaranda Plaza
















We follow Rick’s advice and choose Cafe Lisbona, one of his recommended restaurants for dinner.  We share a mussel appetizer and duck and salmon entrees and a glass of wine each.  Although the ambience is lovely the entrees are slow in arriving and jet lag is catching up with us. Art and I are close to falling asleep at the table when our delicious entrees arrive. Unfortunately, we are too tired to appreciate the meal fully and take much of the salmon back to our room, falling into bed and asleep immediately.
Lisbon cafe at twilight
Lisbon street scene













Saturday  – June, 23.  Sao Jorge Castle and Fabulous Fado!
Breakfast is included in our room and served in an upstairs dining room. We help ourselves to coffee from a thermos with accompanying hot milk. Breakfast is hearty but uninspired. The rolls and bread are industrially fluffy but the accommodating cook fries our eggs to order and there is sliced cheese and ham and fresh squeezed orange juice. Although the bacon looks delicious, we pass for the sake of our cholesterol and the pigs. 

Lisbon City View from Sao Jorge Castle

The morning is hot but not unbearable. We take a 6 euro taxi ride to Sao Jorge Castle, winding uphill along narrow cobblestone streets to the castle entrance. The line of about 50 people moves quickly and we are finding that being ‘seniors’ is a definite financial advantage at 50% off the ticket price.  We enter the castle gardens surrounding the fortress where venerable olive trees offer shade and there are expansive views of the city and harbor beyond.  We take our time exploring the castle and circumnavigate the castle walls for ever changing vistas of the surrounding city.

Marty at Sao Jorge Castle
Sao Jorge Castle grounds






 

Art on Sao Jorge Castle wall

 

Castled out, we meander back down the cobblestone streets by way of the Saturday flea market. Neither of us are inspired by the stalls of cheap clothing, junk and antiques although in need of fresh clothing, I do check out the cheap underwear and socks.  We walk the steep graffitied streets down towards the waterfront.

Lisbon Antique Shops
Lisbon Antique and Flea Market
Lisbon Graffati

We meet a Mexican couple who are walking in our direction and are in Lisbon to watch the Mexico Portugal World Cup game. Art strikes up a conversation and we learn that he is from L.A. and she is from Mexico and their hope was to go to Russia to see the game but she was denied a visa. They are headed to the waterfront plaza to watch Mexico compete in the World Cup. Having gotten the times wrong on yesterdays Brazil vs. Portugal game, Art hopes to watch some of the Mexico – Portugal game on the big screen. When we reach the central waterfront plaza the anticipated big screen is dark. At first Art believes it is an electrical problem but the other half of the plaza is pulsing with music and dancers and an elaborate arch of rainbow colored balloons floats above the plaza. The Lisbon gay pride festival is in full swing and the World Cup is on hold for the afternoon.

Lisbon Gay Pride Festival

Not realizing how important this World Cup soccer game is to Art, I make a few sightseeing suggestions that seem to irritate him and we meander back to the Jacaranda shaded plaza near our hotel in awkward silence. All the tables are taken at “our” outdoor café but I lean an vacant bar stool against a tree, well positioned to view the game and borrow a chair from a nearby table to add to our real estate. Fortunately, two Mexican women with a coveted table next to us are enthusiastically watching the game and Art soon makes friends with them and orders drinks. A smile soon replaces his scowl and the afternoon is saved. Mexico Wins!

The outdoor cafe at the plaza above our hotel

We return the short distance to our guest house but there is still no news about our wayward suitcases.  I am sill in the same clothes from Thursday morning and am feeling limp and disheartened. When it comes to clothes, I am a terrible shopper in the best of circumstances but I leave Art to rest and set out determinedly to buy a clean outfit and fresh underwear.  I find myself defeated at every shop and two hours later, when on the verge of tears, a stylish young woman in a lingerie shop takes pity on me and guides me through some basic bra and underwear purchases and miraculously has two embroidered lounging tops that fit my desperation and immediate needs.

Several hours later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Art and I walk towards the Bairro Alto to check out several of Rick Steves recommended Fado shows. The district is festive in the early evening with garlands strung across the narrow streets and diners sitting at outdoor cafes.

The Bairro Alto district

One of recommended Fado shows turns out to be a sterile tourist stage performance and the second doesn’t open until 9:00 P.M. and is definitely not suitable for our minimal wardrobe. We stop in the third for an early ginja (a traditional Portuguese cherry liquor) and listen to a few Fado songs but there is no magic here and Art reminds me that there is a hole in the wall, Fado café/bar just steps down from our hotel and that if we go there we will be able to keep an eye out for our luggage which we have heard will be delivered later tonight.

Fado Nights – Duque Da Rua
Fado Nights – Duque Da Rua

We slip into the tiny Fado Bar on Rue Du Duque and sit at a long wooden table, our backs to the wall.

Fado bar on Rue Du Duque
Fado bar on Rue Du Duque
Fado bar on Rue Du Duque
Three guitarists

Three guitarists sit at one end of the long and narrow bar their backs to the door opening to the street. It feels as if we are at a private party as two male waiters who are delivering our drinks and tapas pause their serving and perform mournful songs. A group of older women sit at a rear table, nursing their drinks and waiting for their chance to sing. Unfortunately, the tapas offered are minimal and I am soon light headed from the wine and minimal food but grateful that Art continues his diligent checking on our missing luggage.  At one of his luggage checks, he is gone longer than expected and when he returns he tells me that a group of young Belgium men are celebrating a bachelor party at the restaurant across the street and he has been drinking with them. I am blissfully happy listening to the sorrowful Fado music and know that I only have a few doors to stumble back to our guest room hotel.  Somewhere around midnight, Art gives me the welcome news that our luggage has just been delivered to the restaurant across the street. We stay until the music ends and the bar closes at 1:00 P.M.

Sunday, June 24th. Sintra – So Many Castles… So Little Time.

Breakfast in our guest house dining room is a repeat of yesterday’s but we enjoy conversing with a woman from Manchester, England, visiting Lisbon for a short holiday. She raves about a day she spent in Sintra and we decide to go there and take the 40 minute train that departs from the Rossio train station just below our hotel. Sintra is just 15 miles outside of Lisbon and is where the Portuguese aristocracy would escape from city life to their country fairytale castles. We arrive just before 11:00 A.M. along with hoards of other tourists but we manage to beat the long lines into both the Pena Palace and the Moorish Castle by buying tickets at the tourist office inside the small Sintra train station. 10 Euros buys us an open tut tut ride up the winding mountain road and drops us off just below the entrance to Pena Palace. Unlike Lisbon, it is cool here and the mountain side is lush with trees and blooming flowers.

Pena Palace, Sintra
Pena Palace, Sintra

 

Chandelier at Pena Palace
Gargoyle Gate to Pena Palace














Castle cafe at Pena Palace


















Pena Palace feels very Disneyesque to me. The palace and surrounding park are the 19th century vision of German born Prince Ferdinand, a cousin to “Mad” King Ludwig who built the Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria. The architecture is a mishmash of Portuguese and German with some Moorish throw in.  We wander throughout the rooms and take in garden views from the many castle terraces but as much as Prince Ferdinand was trying to impress and outdo his cousin King Ludwig, I am not impressed. 

Thousand year old Moorish Castle in Sintra

When we have had our fill of the Pena Palace we hike over to the thousand year old ruins of the Moorish Castle with forts on two hills that are connected by walled walkways. The enchanting forest grounds surrounding the castle are as magical as is the idyllically restored castle.  It’s a pleasant but long walk through manicured gardens to the castle entrance. Although climbing castle stairs seems to get slightly more challenging each year, I still pride myself on walking the walk. I feel rewarded at each step with vistas of snaking castle walls and bucolic vistas of Sintra City below.

Flowers along the pathway
The walk up to the Moorish Castle
Walkway up to the Moorish Castle


The Moorish Castle walls
Moorish Castle view to Sintra















 Moorish Castle view to Sintra
Art walking the Moorish Castle walls
Art after conquering the castle wall



























From the Moorish Castle we catch a Tut Tut down the mountain to old Sintra. We’ve had our workout for the day and choose a cafe in the main square for a late lunch. We order pasta, share a carafe of white wine and loose track of time. We race to the train station to catch the 4:50 train back to Lisbon but there is no time to use the toilet before jumping on the train and with a bladder full of wine, I am relieved that the trip is only 35 minutes.

Dreadlock Tut Tut driver down the mountain
Old Sintra

 













After resting and showers we wander the short distance uphill to “our” Jacaranda plaza where Art can get his daily World Cup Soccer fix, following which we have dinner at a small and inviting restaurant along our cobble stone street, Rue Du Duque.

Restaurant on Rue Du Duque
Restaurant on Rue Du Duque








Restaurant on Rue Du Duque











Although we wait 15 minutes for a table, the bustling ambience is welcoming and the food is excellent and affordable. We see a steaming bowl of shellfish and rice delivered to an adjoining table and we follow suit and order the “Sea Rice.”  I leave the two large shrimp for art to undress and enjoy the clams and mussels in the rich both of fish and rice. We share a duck leg which is moist and delicious and down it all with ample pours of wine. It has been a near perfect day and our Zuzabed and breakfast hotel is just a few steps away. 

Monday, June 25th, Pastels in Belem (Cream filled pastries)
Most museums are closed on Mondays so we decide to take the tram out of the city to the Belem district to sample the famous Pastels (Cream Pastries.)  Although it’s confusing finding the correct tram stop we are soon onboard for the 25 minute ride to Belem. Lisbon city and the suburbs roll past and we disembark at the Belem stop and walk two blocks to the famous bakery cafe, Casa Pastels de Belem.The line spills outside and Art is inclined to abandon our plan but after investigation he returns and tells me that the line is for take away not for tables. The interior décor is all blue and white tile and there must be 6 or 7 expansive dining areas with tables. We go deeper into the café until we come to half vacant room and quickly claim our seats.
 
Cafe dining room in Casa Pastels de Belen
Casa Pastels de Belem
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
In our room alone, several harried servers are struggling to keep ahead of the incoming tide of customers. It is soon apparent that we have chosen the wrong seating section but ten minutes of patience brings us menus, followed shortly by a cappuccino, espresso and two warm out of the oven pastels. As Art waits, I explore the charming but cavernous café establishment and take photos of the kitchen through viewing windows. I am nearly run over by a bakery cart piled high with freshly baked treats on its way to replenish the pastry cases in the front. 

Pastels and Cappuccino at Casa de Belen
Kitchen viewing window
Take out window at Casa de Belen














Take out at Casa de Belen











When I return to our table, our dining room is full and there is a long line waiting for seating in the rooms further on. Art calculates that there is seating for 800 people and although the prices by our standards are more than reasonable, at just 3 Euros spent per seat, and a turnover of 10 seatings per day, the café must take in over 24,000 Euros a day and that’s not including the take out section where the line stretches half way down the block, certainly taking in more revenue than the café.


Monastery of Jeronimos
Monastery of Jeronimos
Facade of Monastery of Jeronimos

Unfortunately, the Monastery of Jeronimos is closed on Monday but we are able to view the impressive exterior and peek into a publicly accessed courtyard into the library is open. A sign notes that the maritime museum is open on Monday and we choose to go there. Once again, the senior discount is an advantage and the vast museum is air-conditioned and quite interesting considering the importance of international trade routes and the sea are to Portuguese history.

Belen Maritime Museum
Siren ship carving
Belen Maritime Museum










Ceiling detail
















We return by the same trolley stopping at the Time Out Market with intentions of eating lunch at one of the many gourmet eateries. The upscale market is in an enclosed industrial age iron and glass market hall. In the mornings, half of the market is a fish and vegetable market which is closed now but we enter the trendy hall and circumnavigate the many bustling eateries trying to choose. The food looks marvelous and upscale and expansive shared tables and stools fill the center. We have come at the height of lunch and seating is scarce and the choices are daunting. Art makes the welcome suggestion that we return to the restaurant on our street in the Chiado district and eat at Eu Duque again. We make the long uphill trek stopping into a few antique and Azulejo tile shops along the way and enjoy an excellent lunch, sharing a gourmet tuna salad and a duck and rice entrée. We limit ourselves to a glass of crisp white wine each and after lunch, the waitress brings us each an aperitif of and ginja, the local cherry liquor.

Ginja cherry liquor
Ginja cherry liquor



















We make a final foray up to our Jacaranda plaza where Art watches a few minutes of a soccer game and although we wish for an extra day and night in Lisbon we must collect our luggage and head for a distant train station to catch our 5:15 P.M. train to Evora.

 

The Magic Family’s Spring Break Escapades in Blissful Baja.

Spring Break, 2018 – Saturday March 31st – Baja Bound

The extended Magic Family manages to coordinate an all together escape to the tip of Baja over Spring Break. San Jose California to San Jose Del Cabo is just a 3 hour flight and we have an off the grid bungalow and “Dojo” on the East Cape. Our paradise is where the desert meets the Sea of Cortez. It does not depend on maid service or television. The 360 degree mountain and ocean views are captivating along with the company of our many friends, family and tequila sunsets.

Zacatitos panoramic mountain view (photo by Alisha McCormack)

We arrive in San Jose del Cabo at 1:00 P.M. but by the time we get through customs, stop at La Comer for supplies and drive the unpaved coast road to our off the grid community, it is late afternoon.  (There is the choice of a paved highway, but when not in a hurry, I prefer the dirt road that parallels the Sea of Cortez.)

Arrival margarita toast with John, Alisha and Art.
A hammock sundowner for John

Easter Sunday May 6th – Settling In

We spend Sunday leisurely settling into a Baja routine. Although we don’t have a formal Easter Sunday celebration, the sunrise is glorious and we have a Baja style Easter egg hunt for Molly and Sterling.

Sunrise over the East Cape (photo by Alisha McCormack) 
Baja style Easter egg hunt
After the Easter egg scavenger hunt.

In the heat of Sunday afternoon, our family begins their table painting projects. Art’s “Gecko Lounge” is a spacious studio space by day and often a margarita lounge bar at sunset.  It’s a good place to escape the heat during the day and to be creative and there are inspiring and expansive desert mountain views beyond the open garage doors.

Alisha sketches out her Jack Rabbit Table.
John sketches his Dragon Table design

Marty’s paints her Octopus Table
Sterling joins in the painting.

Surfer and cactus rock
Gecko Lounge Painting afternoon
Sterling paints a meditation bench
Art’s beach painting of Jackie 

Sunday evening’s rose buttermilk sunset is psychedelic. The close to a perfect day.

Sunday’s rose buttermilk sunset.
Father and son on top of our casita’s roof. (Two Sterlings)
Baja sunset bliss.


Monday May 7th – Jitsu training and a drive to La Fortuna – My husband Art has created an off the grid Dojo for MMA. He organized a Monday noon Jitsu training at his Cactus Corner Dojo. (Burros excluded.)

Art’s Cactus Corner Dojo, Art, Molly and Sterling

Art and grandson Sterling 
Art and granddaughter Molly

Cactus Corner Dojo and Airbnb
Cactus Corner Dojo

After Jitsu training we take a drive up the east cape to La Fortuna, a tiny Ranchero community with a single simple restaurant where we enjoy an assortment of fresh fish, chicken and carne asada tacos.

The road to La Fortuna, East Cape
Waiting for our Tacos, La Fortuna
Molly, Cow Skull

Molly and Dad dancing
Peacefully inhaling the view and the quiet.
The beach just south of La Fortuna. Easy surfing for Molly and Sterling.
Molly 
Molly and Sterling
Tuesday, May 8th- A day trip to Santiago and the Santa Rita Hot Springs. 
We begin our 2 hour drive towards Santiago and the Santa Rita hot springs stopping first at the Tropic of Cancer.

The McCormack Family at the Tropic of Cancer

We have a lovely lunch in Santiago at the Palomar Restaurant.

Lunch at the Palomar Restaurant, Santiago
A rare hamburger treat for Sterling
Alisha and Sterling “squabbling.”

From there, we drive the dirt road paralleling the power lines up to the Santa Rita Hot Springs. There is small fee to pay the Ranchero who manages the Hot Springs and we sign the guest book before walking down the trail to the pristine river and hot springs.

The extended Magic Family upstream in the river. 
Marty and John, Santa Rita hot springs
Marty and Alisha, Santa Rita hot springs
Sterling soaking at the hot springs

We return home after a full day out. With limited internet, Alisha and John hurry to post photos of our day out. Sunsets and margaritas are followed by an Apples to Apples game by solar lighting at Cactus Corner. Great fun!

Alisha and John hurry to post the days photos on Facebook and Instagram.
Ocean view sunset and sundowners
Mountain view sunset

Zacatitos mountain sunset
Fun and games

Fun and games
A game night of Apples to Apples by solar light

Wednesday May 9th – A day in Zacatitos.

Van Gogh -Zacatitos’ randy one eared male burro.
Burro on the beach
Burro on the beach
The McCormack family on top of our casita’s roof.
Desert sunset
A Marty Magic sunset

Thursday – May 10th – Todos Santos and the San Jose Art Walk.

Festive flags along a Todos Santos street.

Todos Santos door
Todos Santos sidewalk cafe


Molly loves the fresh fish
Molly and Marty – Lunch in Todos Santos
Todos Santos photography gallery

Alisha, Molly and I have a girls day together in Todos Santos. We have a lovely lunch and wander the many galleries and shops of Todos Santos.

Benito Ortega working in his courtyard studio
Benito Ortega gallery.

I stop into the Benito Ortega sculpture gallery each time I visit Todos Santos. Benito is always happy to visit, explain his process and talk about his work. His sculptures, like mine, are lost wax cast.

Alisha and Molly at the Jill Logan gallery
Molly playing with Todos Santos puppies

Todos Santos Gallery

Graffiti art on a wall outside a graphic gallery 

Our time in Todos Santos is too short since we are  scheduled to meet the “boys” in San Jose for the Thursday night art walk.

San Jose del Cabo on a Thursday night art walk.
The Magic Family, San Jose del Cabo
One of three Sanchez jewelry galleries in San Jose del Cabo
Marty taking a glass of wine

The various art and jewelry galleries compete for business. The Sanchez family apparently owns three (or more) of the jewelry shops in town. Their P.R. woman, wearing a skirt arrayed with small servings of wine, won John’s and my immediate attention. The jewelry wasn’t half bad either!

Art’s favorite gallery is the Frank Arnold Gallery
Frank Arnold studio
Frank Arnold Gallery

Every Thursday night during the season, Frank Arnold opens his gallery and home to the public. His white dog is always coiffed and FrankArnold serve small shots of tequila to those who choose to browse his gallery. Another gallery favorite or ours is the Ida Victoria Gallery tucked away on a side street. Dan and Laurie Hennig of Camp Climax Pottery from Boulder Creek California show their work at the Ida Victoria. Like us, they spend time in Baja during their off season and have set up a studio workshop in their Baja home.

Night view of the old town art district.
Ida Victoria Gallery
Good times at the San Jose Art Walk.

After the art walk, Sterling and Alisha treat our family to dinner at Restaurant Guacamayas.  Although there are plenty of Gringo’s there, it’s out of the tourist district and offers a more authentic dining experience. Aside from their strong margaritas, the house specialties are huge stuffed potatoes and a variety of “volcano bowls” overflowing with meats and vegetables.

Waiting for our table at the Guacamayas Restaurant
John at Guacamayas

Good food and good times at restaurant Guacamayas.

Friday – May 10th – Kicking back in Zacatitos. 

A beach day in Zacatitos
Art and Molly go kayaking


The rock formations at the beach.

We enjoy a relaxed beach day in Zacatitos. Art takes Molly and Sterling Kayaking and we all take afternoon siestas in preparation for tonight’s party. Max and Nancy are hosting birthday party for Raven and the entire community is invited.

Guests watching the open mike performances.
Marshall plays the guitar.
Raven’s birthday cake.
Molly on the diving board.
Kenny Loggins makes a guest appearance.

We love our eclectic community. The open mike performances are awesome and so varied and Kenny Loggins, a friend of Jeff and Mary makes a surprise appearance. It is a wonderful party with great food, good friends and rocking music. Thank you Max and Nancy.

Saturday – May 11th – A Jack Rabbit Morning and the San Jose Organic Market

A Jack Rabbit morning frolic

Alisha manages to take this remarkable photo of two Jack Rabbits playing tag on the road in front of Cactus Corner in Zacatitos

A delicious lunch at the Saturday organic market.
Alisha and Sterling

Which would you prefer?

Today is our last full day in Baja and I drive everyone into San Jose to the Saturday Organic Farmers Market. Alisha’s husband, Sterling questions why we are going to an organic market the day before we fly home? I explain that it’s a small craft market combined with local food vendors, entertainment and games.  We begin with lunch, choosing separately from the many independent food stalls. Unlike the food booths at the California Art and Wine Festivals, all the food here is delicious and mindfully prepared in small cooked to order quantities. We drink home brewed kombucha and slather our sopas and quesadillas in sauces of freshly pureed cilantro and basil. In eight years of eating here, I have never gotten sick.

The art and craft vendors
Alisha admires and buys a pair of earrings from this artist.
Waiting for  entertainment

View from behind the stage entertainment. 

We peruse the many tiny craft stalls at the show and we sit in the shade to listen to the entertainment. This “market” reminds me of the shows that I did some 40 years ago when the arts and crafts were real and not imported from China. I am blissfully happy to share this experience with my family.

Alisha and John roll the kids around in these inflatable balls
Molly in an inflatable ball
Inflatable ball play

For Molly and Sterling, the best part of the market were the inflatable balls. For 50 pesos each ($3.00)  they had 30 minutes of rolling time on the grass. Alisha, father Sterling and John had a great time rolling the kids around. The day was hot and everyone was exhausted at the end of 30 minutes.

Produce at the organic market
Marty at the organic market
John buying a plant at the organic market

Still Saturday, May 11th – A Sunset Gathering of Friends at Punta Gorda.

Our good friend Jaime is a caretaker at a property with a patio overlooking  Punta Gorda. This is a magical place to be at sunset and we are fortunate (blessed) to spend our last evening here. Both the setting and the light is magical….not to forget the awesome company and the music.

Punta Gorda nearing sunset
The McCormack family Punta Gorda




John and Gina, Punta Gorda sunset
Alisha and Marty, Punta Gorda sunset

After walking on the beach; Jaime plays music, we dance, kids play and everyone enjoys the sunset from above.

Inhaling the sunset at Punta Gorda
Jaime entertaining the kids

The kids entertaining themselves
Jamming Jamie
Art and Molly dancing

After walking on the beach,  Jaime plays music, we dance, kids cavort and everyone enjoys the sunset.

Fading light over Punta Gorda after a perfect evening. 

We must leave for the airport by noon and after a week of kids and sand there is much clean up to do. Bottles and cans need recycling, trash needs corralling, sheets and towels must be changed and bathrooms cleaned. Everyone pitches in and after cleaning the Cactus Casita, Molly poses proudly for “Airbnb” shots.

The Cactus Corner Casita
Molly posing in the CCC.

After cleaning up, there is time for the kids to say good by to Van Gogh, the one eared burro. They feed him our left over carrots and veggies from the refrigerator. Van Gogh allows the kids to sit on their backs.

Molly and burro
No, this is not Mary and Joseph

Sterling and burro

We caravan to the airport in two cars since our vehicle won’t hold all of us and our luggage. Friends are also dropping off guests and there is room for Art and John to ride in with them. Art hugs and kisses us all before returning to Zacatitos for a final week. He will need to shut down the houses for the season. Our return flight is on time and we touch down in San Jose California at 4:00 P.M.

John’s adventure will continue tomorrow morning when he flies to Thailand for 3 weeks. He is a lucky young man!

Art, Tequila and Sunsets

After this past busy December season, I made my regular escape down to the tip of Baja where I decompress, write, enjoy sunsets, sip tequila, make art and spend time with my husband, Art. 
Desert Road and Zacatitos Mountains _ Photo by Kat Beaulieu
Growing up as the only child of a field geologist, I spent considerable time in the deserts of California and camping in remote parts of Baja with my parents. The East Cape of Baja is breathtakingly beautiful where the desert meets the Sea of Cortez. Here is a brief photo blog of my most recent trip to blissful Baja.

Zacatitos beach
My husband Art enjoys the simplicity of living off the grid although the complexity of living strictly on solar and having water trucked in is anything but easy. Living off the grid does however, make one appreciate conservation and ones most basic needs. 
Sunset view from our Casita.
The flight from San Jose California to San Jose Del Cabo is just 3 hours and I usually have enough frequent flyer miles to make the trip several times each year. We have many friends in the small community where we live in and my husband Art stays down there for several months at a time. Pictured below is our off the grid artist friend Jaime who creates wonderful driftwood sculptures. 
Jaime, Driftwood Sculptor and Marty

Driftwood Sculpture Exhibit 
Free spirited artist, Jaime
Art is cleaning out a space below our tiny Casita where we can both be creative. The industrial garage and “Gecko Lounge” space is already feeling energized and my close friend Kat (who recently visited us for a week)  and I painted two simple plywood tables. It was great fun painting a table with a friend and because so much of my creative energy goes into making jewelry, it felt freeing to be exploring another artistic venue.
Gecko Table Sketch
Marty painting her Gecko Table

Kat painting her Cactus Table
Finished Cactus and Gecko Tables

Art is making this industrial art space into an after hours Karoke Lounge. Check out his industrial cement bar and  his ingenious bar stools. 
Tequila toast _ Art and Kat 
Note; Marty is still painting?

Lest anyone think that Marty is all work and no play, I soon joined the Gecko Lounge Party.

Komodo Dragons – Rinca and Komodo Islands

View of Labuan Bajo Harbor

Although I had a fever last night, I feel considerably better this morning and nibble cautiously on toast and egg. The island view from our hotel is beautiful and the day is full of promise. Alisha is still feeling 100% and our guide Yosep picks us up at our Golo Hilltop hotel for the drive down to the Labuan Bajo harbor. We walk along the crowded and colorful pier to board our simple wooden boat that will take us to Rinca and Komodo Islands. 

Labuan Bajo dock
Motoring to Rinca Island

















Alisha and I will be the only passengers on board and we will sleep on mats on the deck. The boat is exactly what I expected and three weather worn men welcome us onboard. Our captain, grins broadly exposing a grin missing half of his teeth. He must be in his mid-60’s but the cook and deck hand are probably only 45. The men spider across the deck on thin and limber legs preparing to push off from the harbor for our trip to the islands. We motor out past islands seemingly floating above the indigo ocean and silhouetted against a cloud scattered blue sky.

Our boat to Rinca and Komodo Islands
The wind in our hair









Docking at the Rinca pier
Rinca boat jam

We arrive at Rinca Island a little before noon and our crew ties up our boat and we walk along the long pier to the ranger station. Both Rinca and Komodo Islands are part of the Komodo National Park and our guide, Yosef requests 6,000 rupiah to register our names and pay for our tickets. We are not quite sure why he insists on doing this for us because 10 years ago, Art, John and I registered on our own so we are a little suspicious that he may be pocketing some of money. Alisha is persistent in requesting the tickets to “put in her scrapbook,” and he reluctantly gives them to her. When we inspect them later and all seems to be on the up and up. 


Rinca Island, Komodo National Park
The gateway to Rinca, part of the Komodo National Park
About Rinca Island












The Rinca ranger station















Lazy Komodo camp dragon
Komodo camp dragon on the prowl
Sleeping Komodo camp dragons



At the ranger station we are assigned a local park guide, armed with a forked stick to lead us through the scrub forest and up to the hill overlooking the bay and islands beyond. Although we see a dozen smaller Komodo Dragons sleeping lazily around the ranger station, it is our hope that we will see an active dragon or two in the brush. Rinca Island is dry forest and Savana and it is noon when we begin our climb to the top of the mountain. I am light headed from whatever bug I have caught, the heat and the exertion. We inhale the remarkable view of the bay and islands beyond but the sun is brutal and we quickly retrace our path down the grassy hill side, returning to the shade of the trees and the ranger station.


Alisha and our park guide, Rinca Island
Marty following our guide











Harbor view from a Rinca hilltop

A group of Indonesian women are gathered by the ranger station watching the lazy dragons sleeping in the midday heat. The women’s attention switches from the dragons to Alisha and me and they orchestrate a photo shoot with us, the strange pale tourists.


Mother and child 
Indonesian Women photo shoot











Lunch is served shortly after we push off from the Rinca dock but I am feeling poorly and rest on the sleeping mats on the deck. Tepid, breaded and friend eggplant, fried tempe and cold fried fish are on the menu and Alisha picks at the unappealing food while I sleep. I wake a couple of hours later as we near our scheduled afternoon snorkeling spot. Alisha tells me that she has spent an uncomfortable afternoon conversing with our guide. He was inappropriately interested in Alisha’s thoughts about affairs outside of marriage; stating that it was his opinion that if the partners didn’t know, having an affair should not be a problem and that couples could still have a happy family life. Alisha firmly states that having an affair would not make for a happy family and tries to steer the conversation elsewhere. Glancing over at me, asleep on the deck, our guide suggests that since her mother is sick, upon our return, he could take her on his motorcycle to the mountains above Labuan Bajo? Alisha, firmly tells him that we take care of each other and stay together at all times. She turns away and focuses on the islands floating weightless on the horizon. 

Lunch onboard our simple boat
A sliver of paraiba colored water
When I wake, I am feeling better and Alisha and I prepare our masks and fins for our snorkeling adventure. A few days ago, when we snorkeled off the islands of Ruing, we wore long sleeved rash guards and modest swimming shorts both in respect for the coral reefs and for the conservative Muslim and Christian cultures. Sunscreen is toxic to the coral reefs. Alisha chooses not to wear her bikini and covers up a in long sleeved rash guard again. We surmise that our guide as well as the three Indonesian boat crew are somewhat disappointed when they realize that Alisha is not going to be donning her bikini for their viewing pleasure. I wear a long sleeved rash guard too, but it is doubtful that our crew is disappointed by my modesty. 

Our snorkeling destination, a crescent white sand beach
Our boat drops anchor some ways off the beach and we slip into the water and swim towards the edge of the reef. I notice immediately that the water here is considerably colder than the water off the protected islands surrounding Ruing but we are soon mesmerized by the coral reef odyssey unfolding beneath us. The corals are further below the surface here and different from those off of Ruing but nevertheless, beautiful. Table top and brain corals abound and the colorful reef fish are plentiful. Because I am not well, I chill quickly and tell Alisha I am swimming to shore, encouraging her to continue her reef exploration a bit longer. She too is cold and we sit together on the sandy sliver of a beach, trying to warm ourselves and watching the other tourists enjoying the late afternoon island paradise. Although, I use the term paradise, I long for the remoteness of more unchartered reefs and am saddened that our human presence is causing such havoc and damage to an environment that was pristine, just a decade ago. I humbly accept that in spite of our refusal to wear sunscreen, that just by being here, Alisha and I are contributing to the degradation of the coral reefs. 

Looking for a cove to anchor for the night

We swim back to our boat, board and struggle to put on dry clothing in the cramped confines of our boat’s bathroom. Warm and dry, we sit and watch the changing of the light as our crew motors towards some remote cove where we will anchor for the night. As Yoseph busies himself with whatever guides must do, Alisha and I talk quietly. Although we don’t actually feel unsafe, we acknowledge that we are alone on a small wooden boat in the middle of an Indonesia archipelago with four Indonesian men. Our three man crew are respectful, but our guide is an arrogant womanizer and we joke about being grateful that we have a machete tucked into Alisha’s suitcase. (For those of you didn’t read our Bene Village post, Alisha purchased a machete to bring home as a souvenir gift for her husband and it is inside Alisha’s suitcase.) On our flight to Indonesia, we watched ‘Snatched’ starring Goldie Hawn and Amy Schumer, about a mother’s and daughter’s mis-adventures in Colombia. We sincerely hope that we won’t be starring in a sequel of ‘Snatched’ and need to wield our machete tonight.

This morning, before boarding our wooden boat, we purchased 3 large bottles of Bintang Beer. We open the first and out of courtesy and share it with Joseph before dinner. Yoseph is leaning back on the bench, smoking endless cigarettes and tossing them over the side of the boat and I am ready to snap. He and asks me how his English is, following this question with “because I want to be a good guide and learn from my guests.” I can no longer contain my disgust for his behavior and his arrogance. Between his inappropriate conversation with Alisha earlier and his lack of respect for the environment which is why we are visiting in the first place, I tell him that his English is fine but that tossing cigarettes into the ocean is not. My voice is sharp and I point to a conch shell ashtray underneath the table and tell him that the fish don’t want to smoke and to use the ashtray provided. I can tell I have offended him and surmise that it is not the cultural norm for a woman to criticize a man and I soften my approach and try to explain the importance of taking care of the reefs to preserve them to promote tourism. I silently do the math of 3 crew members plus one guide, all smoking a pack a day and disposing the butts in the ocean. Multiply that times the hundreds of boats each day, just to Komodo and Rinca Islands and the environmental impact is frightening. Dinner is such that I can only pick at it but the beer is refreshing. We open the 2nd bottle and Alisha passes the 3rd large bottle to the crew. They are surprised and delighted and squat on the raised platform near the kitchen, sharing the bottle.

Sunset off of Komodo Island
Shell jewelry boatman











We anchor in a sheltered cove and are happy to see one or two other boats nearby so we don’t feel quite as isolated as we might otherwise. A young man in a small boat pulls up along side hoping to sell us some trinkets but what he has is all made from shells and we don’t want to support the shell market. We ask if he has any carved wood Komodo Dragons but he does not. The young man seems to understand our reluctancy in buying shell necklaces and motors off to another anchored boat hoping for a sale elsewhere. 

Tarping for the night
Alisha’s and my sleeping mats
Snuggled down for the night

















One of our crew members hangs tarps on the open sides of our boat to shelter us from the night cold. Yoseph passes us two striped flannel sheets, freshly washed and smelling strongly of perfumed detergent.  Alisha and I bundle up in leggings and jackets and we sleep side by side on the two foam mattersss. The simple toilet is at the back of the boat and it is necessary to climb up onto a raised 3 foot portion of the deck and crawl across the platform to reach the toilet. I must make this trip several times during the night and I sleep poorly on the hard deck and thin mattress.

Sunrise off of Komodo Island

Alisha and I wake at dawn to a beautiful sunrise. Our crew serves us a plate of fried bananas and I manage to gag one down. Our plans are to dock at Komodo Island by 6:30 A.M. and to be inside the reserve by 7:00 when the park opens. Yoseph encouraged us to go to Komodo yesterday afternoon, but the guides at Rinca Island told us that the dragons are active only in the early morning or evening. The 600,000 Rupiah entrance fee includes both Rinca and Komodo if you go on the same day but we will need to pay an additional 600,000 Rupiah today. Considering how far we have traveled to see the dragons, the additional $45 seems insignificant so we are going early this morning. We are the first boat to dock at Komodo and the first guests inside the park. We are assigned a park guide with a forked stick for protection from the dragons and we begin our walk through the scrubby forest.

Alisha and Marty under the Komodo National Park Archway
We are the first boat to arrive at Komodo
Komodo Park trails
Our Komodo Island guide
Komodo Dragon trying to free a dead tethered goat
Swallowing the goat whole
Marty and Alisha with very handsome Komodo Dragon

We come to a clearing where a dead goat has been tied and a rather large Komodo Dragon is struggling to free it from the tether and eat it. Eventually the dragon wins and we watch his entire jaw unhinge and he swallows the goat whole and slinks off into the underbrush to digest his feast. Ten year ago, the ‘chumming’ of the dragons was not allowed but our guide tells us that the park now has an agreement with a cruise ship line and that twice a month, a 1000 passenger cruise ship comes to Komodo. The cruise is due to arrive this morning but we have been the fortunate travelers to watch the dragon feast. Because this dragon was baited, I still don’t feel as if we have truly seen one in the wild but a 100 yards further along, a large dragon crosses the trail and we watch it with delight as it shuffles off into the underbrush. One of my favorite photos of the trip is the one below of Alisha photographing the wild Komodo Dragon. How perfect that today she choose to wear her Marty Magic T-shirt!

Alisha, the Marty Magic Photographer
Retreating Komodo Dragon

Although, I know these large lizards can be dangerous, game is plentiful here on the island and I presume they prefer their standard fare of water buffalo and deer over tourists. The trail loops us back and around to the park camp where a dozen smaller dragons sleep lethargically in the shade of the stilt houses. In the hour that we have been dragon watching, the craft venders have set up their souvenir stalls along the pathway to the dock and under the shade of the scruffy trees. I want to buy both my grandchildren, Komodo Dragon carvings and we find two that are nicely carved and similar in size.

The pathway to the craft vendors 
Komodo Island Deer – tasty for the dragons

There are many other small wooden boats now moored at the dock and as we push off, we see the expected 1000 passenger cruise ship in the distance. We are so glad that we made the choice to visit Komodo Island early in the morning and that we actually got to see two dragons in the bush.

The 1000 passenger cruise ship on the horizon.
The 1000 passenger cruise ship heading to the Komodo Dock

Where as I had forgotten completely about my malady during our dragon hike, I am feeling poorly again and Alisha is beginning to feel sick. We are hoping to see manta rays at manta point and Alisha puts on her snorkeling gear in case they are spotted. Yoseph tells me that the current is very strong and that I am too old and I should not try to snorkel. (Our guide is such a diplomatic man.) I question if Alisha is a strong enough swimmer but even though a dozen boats cruise slowly, the crew of each standing at the bow, looking down into the crystal water, no mantas are spotted. I am rather relieved because I am worried about Alisha in the strong current especially when Yoseph tells us that two people recently drowned here.

Returning to Labuan Bajo Harbor, a sliver of paraiba colored water.

When we cruise past Canava island, a snorkeling spot a hour from Labuan Bajo, we defer from stopping. The tide is low and a handful of snorkelers are waist deep in a band of turquoise water that deepens to indigo blue. Our guide Yosep tells us that because the tide is low the snorkeling will not be very good. I’m not sure if he is telling us this to make us feel like we are not missing anything or if he is anxious to get back to the Labuan Bajo harbor. Regardless, we choose to return to shore.

Sunset poolside at the Luwansa Beach Resort Hotel

Alisha is getting worse by the minute and our Luwansa Beach Resort Hotel is close to the harbor. By Flores standards, the hotel is luxurious and we each take much needed showers, and I tuck Alisha into a bed with crisp clean sheets. She is having chills and fever and is very grateful to have a clean, western style bathroom and not find it necessary to crawl on her hands and knees to the toilet throughout the night.  After a shower, I am feeling better and sit in the hotel’s poolside restaurant, order the only mixed drink I have seen in our 10 days on Flores and write. I so wished that Alisha were enjoying the beach side pool and sharing a cocktail with me. Later that evening, Alisha and I return to the restaurant for a bite to eat. She knows she must eat something and this menu has some fairly normal options. She orders a vegetarian pasta which when it arrives is swimming with shellfish and shrimp. Her stomach churns and although we don’t like being difficult tourists, we send her meal back and point to the menu again; pasta with tomato sauce only, no meat. 

Neither of us feel good in the morning and we take it easy, checking our e-mails and face Timing our families until it’s time to head to the airport for our 2 hour domestic flight to Denpasar Bali. 

Ariel view above Flores, Indonesia

Ruteng Rice Terraces and a Home Visit

Panoramic view of the Ruteng rice terraces
I am better this morning and manage to eat one egg and a piece of toast before Yance and a local guide pick us up for a walk through the rice terraces and to visit a local village home. The morning is breathtakingly beautiful and I nearly forget about my malady while walking along narrow dirt paths and trying to keep my balance on the rice terrace dikes. 

Walking through the rice terraces
Walking along the Ruteng rice terrace dikes



















Rice farmer and his children
Boy carrying a sack of rice?



















Rice farmer
Alisha and our local guide



















We pass a few farmers, oxen and a young boy carrying a bag on his shoulders that is nearly as big as he is. I push myself to keep up with the others and am relieved when we reach the village beyond. 

Oxen tethered on the rice terrace, Ruteng
Freshly planted rice terraces, Ruteng
We walk through the Ruteng rice terraces into our guides village. It is more modern than the villages of Luba and Bena that we visited yesterday, and this is the village where he and his father live.

Walking into the village from the Ruteng rice terraces
Our guide invites us into his house for coffee. I dread another cup of black and gritty coffee but accept graciously and sit on their oddly formal and out of place sofa while Alisha plays singing and hand clapping games with a group of young children who have gravitated inside from the village to gawk at the strange white tourists. 

Marty sitting on the sofa in our Ruteng guides home
The guides father sits beside me









Closeup of family photos on the wall











Alisha with her big smile and easy rapport is a kid magnet and I wish that her kids could be here to play games with these beautiful children. Our guides father is at home and sits awkwardly beside me on the sofa. I wonder what he thinks of us foreign intruders. The interior of their home is dark and sparsely furnished and three family photos hang askew on a wall above a curling poster of a Virgin. 


A wood cooking fire smolders on the hard packed dirt floor of their kitchen. We can see into a bedroom off of the kitchen and the mattress is strewn with clothing. 
Our guides kitchen
Bedroom in the house.

The children are captivating and Alisha plays with them for nearly an hour before we say our goodbyes and begin our afternoon drive to Labuan Bajo.  I so wished that I felt better because I know what a remarkable experience this is and want to savor all the memories.
Playing with the Ruteng Village children
Playing with the Ruteng Village children

















I doze in the back seat of the car until we arrive at the Spider Web rice fields in the mid afternoon.  There is a small ticket price to pay before we can climb the stepped pathway to the top of the hill for a vista view of the rice fields beyond. Beside the ticket kiosk are several women and girls pounding coffee to sell to the tourists. Alisha grabs a pole and gives it a go, presumably crushing the beans inside the wooden vat. 

Alisha pounding coffee

Alisha and Yancy, Spiderweb rice fields


















The climb is not long but the day is hot and I am weak and sick. I feel faint when we reach the top to gaze at the spiderweb patterned fields below. 

View of the Spiderweb rice fields
On the drive to Labaun Bajou, Alisha sits beside Yancy while I sleep in the back seat of the car. We pass wonderful road side scenes that I regret not experincing personally. Happily Alisha is a great photo journalist and I have the following photos to share. 
Boys playing alongside the road
Children playing

School girls waving to us

Muslim women resting along side of the road

It is late afternoon when we arrive in the outskirts of Labaun Bajou—a bustling and grimy port city from which we will depart to the Komodo and Rinca Islands in the morning. 
View of Labuan Bajo Harbor
The Golo Hilltop hotel in Labuan Bajo
We say goodbye to Yancy
Yancy drives us through the crowded city and up to the lovely Golo Hilltop Hotel. The afternoon light bathes the hotel and the grounds in a magical golden hue. We say good by to our delightful guide Yancy and he informs us that Yosep, our guide to the islands, will stop by shortly to introduce himself. 
Poolside view
Alisha taking a late afternoon dip in the Golo Hilltop pool













There is a small jewel of a swimming pool and Alisha quickly changes into her swim suit to enjoy a before sunset dip overlooking a picture perfect view of the harbor below. I manage to take a few photos before retreating to our room to sleep. 
Sunset from the Golo Hilltop Hotel, Labuan Bajo
I vaguely remember Alisha telling me that Yosep has arrived but my fever has returned and I continue to sleep leaving her in charge of collecting any information that we might need for our trip to the Islands in the morning.  Alisha sets another pot of ginger tea on the night table beside me when she turns in for the night.

The Traditional Villages of Luba and Bena

Our program today is walking to several traditional villages. Alisha and I each check e-mail and facetime our family back at home. Except for my flaming sunburn, I feel good and am grateful for a relatively normal breakfast. We are getting accustomed to strong coffee without milk, and this morning a basket of thickly sliced bread awaits. Butter, ‘odd’ jams, a single fried egg and a slice of wrapped processed cheese completes the meal. The extravagant and delicious breakfasts at our guest house in Ubud Bali are a distant memory. 

Volcano above Luba and Bena Villages
In addition to our guide Yancy, we have a local guide to take us to the traditional villages, so together we drive through lush giant bamboo forests to the start of our walk to Luba and Bena Villages. 
Stone alter details
Giant Bamboo

Although Luba village is not as colorful as I remember Bena Village being ten years earlier, we arrive early and are the only tourists. 
Luba Village

Family tombs at Luba Village
I ask our local guide if I may give lollypops to the children, and he cautions, ‘only if I have enough for everyone’. I show him that we have a bag and a half of lollypops remaining, plenty for all of the children.  A dozen traditionally thatched houses with peaked rooftops surround a large open dirt courtyard. Every home has a wooden front porch with steps up to the porch. Children peek curiously from dimly lit doorways. Hanging from sticks in front of most of the houses are colorful Ikat weavings, none of them exceptional. Even though we politely admire the handiwork, we are not pressured to buy and many of the villagers ask us to take their photos. We are only too happy to oblige. 
Children at Luba Village under Ikat Weavings
We pass out lollypops to the few children present and suddenly the population of village children multiplies. Children from adjoining houses toss balls that mysteriously roll in our direction. Alisha is the candy girl and all of the villagers, young and old alike, seem to want their photo taken. After each photo is taken we show it to everyone. They are all delighted. 
Lolly pops at Luba Village
Alisha and Luba children making faces

Boys in Luba Village
Sitting on the stone wall in front of one house is an extremely old and picturesque woman. We learn that she is 98 years old and she seems to have a wry sense of humor. Although she also wants her photo taken, she insinuates that she should be a high paid model considering how many tourists have taken her photo over the years. I sit beside her and try to connect. She is chewing beetle nut and offers me some. I don’t know how to respond and wonder if this is her sense of humor or a test. I am curious about the effect of beetle nut but decline her invitation and she throws back her head and laughs. 
Venerable old woman at Luba Village
Venerable Luba Village woman
Marty and Luba Village woman

















Old woman, Luba Village
Old man, Luba Village



















We continue walking to Bene Village, just 15 minutes down the road. We wander the village for over two hours amid another 50 tourists. I watch disapprovingly as a group of young Asian travelers operate a drone above this traditional village taking arial photos for the better part of an hour and feel annoyed by the noise of the whirling drone above. Alisha and I climb to the vista point at the end of the village and inhale the view beyond. There is a precarious drop off to the valley below and Alisha makes her way cautiously to sit on the rock overhanging the valley. I remember ten years earlier, John daringly standing on this same rock to test his mother’s nerves and risking a fall into oblivion. 

View of Bena Village from the vista point above.
Family eating together, Bena Village
Children watching Television, Bena Village


















Woman of Bena Village
Returning to the village, Alisha buys boars tusk necklaces and Ikat sashes, and examines her options of bamboo cutting machetes that she might take home to her husband. I am beginning to feel a bit off but attribute it to the heat. I wait in the shade of the visitors center while Alisha runs back to our waiting van. She uses an Ikat sash that she purchased earlier to measure the length of a machete in comparison to her suitcase. We circle the village again and she picks out the perfect machete while I sit on the wooden stairs of the house as she finalizes the deal. The woman of the house offers us coffee and not wanting to offend, I accept and sip the tepid gritty drink from a grimy glass cup. I am not feeling well.

Boys resting in the shade, Bena Village
Detail of stone alter












Alisha choosing a bamboo machete.

Ceremonial necklaces















Coffee after the machete purchase. 
Bena Village dog
Bena Village family


Bena Village house with buffalo horns 
Bena Village 

I doze in the back seat for our drive to Ruteng. We stop at an arak distillery along the way. Yance explains the distillery process while we stand by the three ovens inhaling the cooking smoke. We listen to his explanation of tapping the arak palms to get the juice and the subsequent fermentation and the distillery process.  Although I sample the arak, I am feeling queasy and this time attribute it to the cooking smoke, the arak and the heat. I buy three Ikat sashes. Were there others of the same quality, I would have purchased more. 
Arak distillery
Arak distillery

Ikat weavings for sale
Irak for sale 

Yance gets a call on his cell phone and suggests that he leave us at the arak distillery while he drives up the road to meet his wife and three young daughters. His wife is at her father’s farm and he wishes to give her some money. Finished with the arak and more interested in meeting his family we ask to go with him. It is a short detour and we get a glimpse of his wife and girls from the car window. Yance seems embarrassed by their appearance but they look just fine to us. Admittedly, they are a bit dust covered from a day in the village, but they greet us with welcoming smiles. 
I am not well and sleep in the back seat of our car for the remainder of our drive to Ruteng. Alisha rides upfront with Yance and I vaguely remember several view point stops and one emergency bathroom stop. Yance finds a toilet for me quickly and dips a leaky container of water from an outside cistern and hands it to me as I am opening the rickety bathroom door. I silently say a prayer of thanks to whatever deities are watching over me today because there is a sit down toilet instead of a squat toilet. By the time I have finished my business, the water in the container has drained from the holes but I step outside and refill it from the cistern and return to flush the toilet. 
A luxurious hotel in Ruteng
A modern bathroom!












It is nearly dusk when we arrive in Ruteng. By Flores standards, our hotel is quite luxurious and there is a bank across the street and I successfully withdraw money from the ATM. Once in the room, I take a hot shower and slip into clean sheets. I believe Alisha goes downstairs to eat dinner but I am too sick to recall anything except a pot of strong ginger tea that she sets beside me later that evening. Chunks of ginger swim in the boiling tea pot. I sweeten it with sugar and I drink several cups throughout the night. 

Sao Hot Springs and onto Bajawa

I wake before 6:00 A.M. feeling refreshed and walk across the courtyard to our  hotel’s restaurant and write. The back of my legs from below my shorts down to my ankle are flaming with sunburn.  I am the only one awake and am anxious for coffee but know that I must be patient. The restaurant begins to stir at 7:00 a.m. and the French Roast coffee is strong and flavorful. Breakfast is a repeat of overly cooked overly salted omelette or a dry banana pancake without palm syrup. Yanze reminds us to order a boxed lunches to go and by 9:00 A.M. we are driving towards Bajawa, via the Soa Hot Springs. The morning drive takes us though beautiful countryside. We feel fortunate to have Yance as our guide. His agreeable personality, driving skills and English are all topnotch. He stops frequently under the pretense of giving us the chance to take photos but I suspect that many of the photo opts are timed to his cigarette breaks.

Vista view of the valley 
The road to Soa

















We arrive at the Sao Hot Springs about noon, pay the small entrance fee and enter the park. Scraggly hedges edge cracking walkways and flowered bushes are planted haphazardly. Although not landscaped to our standards, the grounds are pretty and families are picnicking and relaxing in the shade of a variety of trees. 

Alisha at Soa Hot Springs garden
Son Hot Spring garden



















Center in the park is the hot spring and the hottest of the pools which is presently occupied by a half dozen men. 

The hottest of the Soa pools
The men and our sunburnt legs deter us from the hot pool and we walk a bit downstream and dip our toes into warm but not scalding water. With her protective, long sleeved sun shirt,  Alisha works her way into the water, lying down in the flowing stream. We see our Dutch friends in a cooler pool below and I sit waist deep in the warm water and visit with Jan while his two girls swim in the stream. Alisha swims along the narrow but fast moving stream and relaxes against the rocks of a small waterfall flowing from the hot upper pool. 
Soa Hot Springs, Marije and Famke

Alisha in the Soa Hot Spring waterfall
Downstream, young men soap their bodies and wash their hair. Although we are not looking forward to our boxed lunches of cold nasi goreng and mie goreng, our stomachs grumble and we eat a few bites each of the greasy cold meals. The Sao Hot Springs dogs are delighted that we leave most of our lunches for them.
Our unappealing boxed lunches
Mother dog enjoying our leftovers

















We arrive at the Happy Happy hotel late afternoon, a small guest house at the end of town. Our room is simple and clean with a utilitarian bathroom and wi-fi. 

Our Happy Happy room
Tired and dirty feet















Happy Happy bathroom
Happy Happy house rules















We take much needed showers, check our e-mail and walk uphill and into the town. We pass a school and a busy soccer field and walk along a street of tidy government buildings. The afternoon light is lovely and the gilded domes on the town mosque shine in the afternoon sun. A Christian church sits across the street. 

The Bajawa Mosque
The Bajawa Mosque
Bajawa school girls
Mother and child
Bajawa school girls

Gasoline for sale at a Bajawa convince store
Bajawa women
We see a few young European travelers but the town is not overrun with tourists and feels very authentic. Alisha and I stroll along a street of shops poking into several dimly lit clothing shops crammed and hung with three levels high with lacy and sequined blouses and faux batik men’s shirts. Two men sit in the back of one, heads bent over sewing machine and I wonder how they can see with only the fading afternoon light to illuminate their work. We venture into the depths of a second dark store and peruse the many colorful ornate blouses covered with protective cellophane. One particular lime green and pick embroidered tunic catches both Alisha’s and my eyes and we ask the kind woman if she might have Alisha’s size? She pulls out several for Alisha to try on and we step into a  dressing room in the storage area. The young woman is from Java and proudly puts her English to use and to her delight, when we find one that fits I pay the exorbitant 250,000 rupees, a little less than $20.  Although I thought that I had our hotel bearings in relationship to where we have wandered, when we exit the store we are somewhat disoriented.  We spot the two European women we saw earlier and inquire if they might know which downhill street might lead to the Happy Happy Hotel?. They are taking photos in a graveyard and we observe the same dramatic beauty of the tombs in the afternoon light and take our own photos. 
Bajawa graveyard
Bajawa graveyard

They tell us to wait a few minutes and they will walk with us in that direction. We pass their hotel, which they tell us is terrible, an unattractive 4 story cement building. It is sandwiched within the one short block of ‘tourist’ restaurants. They point us down the street and around the corner to our Happy Happy guest house. Situated now, and in a district of seemingly acceptable eateries, Alisha and I choose a small cafe, order a Bintang beer and listen to the street performers outside. The ‘island’ music lifts our spirits and we order what we hope is safe, chicken sate and fried potatoes. 
I believe it is this meal on this trip that I will live to regret. Back at Happy Happy we check e-mail and go to sleep tired, tired.
A toast to our adventures 
The meal that I will live to regret

Bajawa musicians
Music on the street

The Coral Islands and Flying Foxes of Riuing

I sleep long and well and without the need of a sleeping tablet. Alisha and my alarm sound in unison at 7:00 A.M. and we prepare our snorkeling equipment and day pack for the boat. The day before our flight to Indonesia, I purchased a new snorkel and mask.  When I unpack it and clean the mask with anti-fog gel, I notice several ants in our clogged bathroom sink. I dutifully rescue them from drowning only to discover that my entire snorkel is filled with large black ants. I rush outside with the snorkel and lay it in the sun and watch a parade of ants exit from the open end. How and when did they take up residency? 

Ants in my snorkel

Breakfast at the Delmar Hotel
















Breakfast is an overcooked and over salted omelette, sweet papaya and mangos and weak coffee. We depart at 8:30 A.M. to drive the few short blocks to the fishing dock. 

Riuing fishing village


A block from our guesthouse, Yanze reminds me that we will need to pay 100,000 each for park fees. ($8 each) I tell him I have left most of my money back in the room and suggest that we turn around but he tells me he can pay the park fee for us and that I can pay him back.  We sign the register and pay the fee but there is an additional $15,000 each ticket fee for snorkeling and I dig into my day pack for the additional $3.00. Our barbecue fish lunch on the beach will be included and prior to the snorkeling fee, I had enough money to tip our two boatmen for the day trip, but I am already worrying and scolding myself for not having brought along an extra $5 or $10 dollars. We walk along the long pedestrian dock to our long wooden boat and meet our captain and cook. Our weather worn boat is painted blue, turquoise and white and half the length is shaded by a blue tarp; the other half by a red tarp tied to overhead supports.  I take note of the colors so that I will be able to identify our boat from the others that are motoring to the islands today. Except for the spinning tape in my head, worrying about being short on tip money, the morning is blissfully perfect. The morning sunlight reflects off of the harbor water, wooden stilt house stand askew along the shore and the coral islands float weightless on the clear horizon. 

Motoring out to the coral islands
Islands on the horizon















On the way to our first snorkeling stop, we pull alongside a small fishing dingy and our captain, Achoo buys a freshly caught, 2 foot fish for our beach barbecue lunch. Great fun to be going to the fish market on the open ocean.  

Achoo buys a fish for our lunch
Yance catches a reef fish



















20 minutes later we anchor off shore from our first snorkeling spot. Alisha and I have decided not to wear sunscreen and contaminate the water but we are wearing long sleeve rash guard shirts and shorts over our swimsuits for sun protection. We climb down the three rung wooden ladder and slip into the water. The ocean is calm and bathwater warm and after adjusting our snorkels and masks we swim weightlessly along the edge of the coral reef. Initially, I am disappointed by the lack of live coral, but there is considerable fish life and healthy coral away from the anchoring area for the boats. My new mask works wonderfully and I am grateful that I discovered the ant invasion before donning my mask and inhaling a stream of ant bodies. We snorkel for an hour slowly working our way along the outer edge of the reef and towards the strip of beach where we will be picked up by our boat. At this snorkeling stop, perhaps 30% of the coral is thriving and we see many anemones caressing their resident pairs of clown fish. Alisha has her go-pro and dives down to capture two brilliant orange and black clown fish within a lush burnt orange anemone. They dart towards the camera, scolding Alisha for intruding on their privacy. Alisha records their antics with her GoPro and believes they may be protecting their eggs? Tiny lime green fish hover and dart among blue tipped stag horned coral and small fish of all shapes, colors and patterns are plentiful. I point out a small Tridacna clam burrowed deep within a rock and Alisha dives down to investigate it’s fleshy blue and purple lips. I stop comparing this snorkeling site to our over the top snorkeling experience off of Apo Island in the Philippines and focus on the remarkable jeweled undersea wonderland that surrounds me. We wade up onto the beach and my prior water weightlessness combined with a sudden cramp in my leg causes me to fall face forward in the sand. Alisha and a tall handsome European man haul me up and I struggle to release the leg cramp and regain my dignity.

A walk to the end of the island

We motor a short distance to another island and once again, slip into the ocean. The coral here is considerably more lush and teeming with life. I spot a large barrel shaped coral some 10 feet below and grab Alisha’s fin to show her. There is an open cavity in the center and Alisha dives down and reports that there are 3 – 4 lion fish taking shelter within the dark cavity. Alisha motions to a group of three young men nearby and directs them to the lion fish cavern below. Both at this stop and the prior stop, there are less than 20 snorkelers in the water and Alisha and i are two of the last to exit the water. Our Dutch friends, Jan, Marije and Famke are on another boat and they alternate sunbathing and swimming in the shallow water. Alisha asks Jan the father, what his favorite thing was that they saw snorkeling? He replies, “the sea turtles.” Alisha’s mouth drops open and he laughs and tells her he is only joking.

An island lunch break with Jan, Marije and Famke

While lunch is being prepared, Alisha and I walk to the end of the island. We find a few hermit crabs and pick up some trash until it is obvious that we cannot make a dent in the litter. The Dutch family eats their lunch on the sand but our captain suggests we eat on our boat which suits me fine. I have a bench to sit on and the tarps shade me and there is no sand in my food. The captain uncovers a round picnic bento box that his wife has prepared. The bottom layer is steamed rice, followed by spicy vegetable noodles and a cold vegetable salad. I say a silent prayer that we will not get sick and take servings of it all. The barbecued fish is excellent and Alisha and I share a nice filet and then go back for more. I feel badly that our guide, captain and deck hand wait for us to finish before serving themselves.

Yance and the crew eat afterwards 
Lunch on the boat

I am still worried about being short on a tip and when Alisha takes a quick snorkel after lunch she asks Jan if he has an extra 100,000 Rupiah to spare until we get back to our guest cottage? Fortunately he does and discretely passes Alisha the bill.

The coral reef surrounding the final island is by far the best and we swim weightlessly above the wonderland of coral. At the edge of the reef are corals that I have never seen before. Huge ochre petals, many 4-6 feet across, cling and descend down the outer bank of the reef.

Castaways

In clouds over in the late afternoon as we motor over towards the mangroves to see the “flying fox” bat colonies. Alisha is awe of the trees dripping with thousands of large fruit bats.

Flying fox colony in the mangroves 
Mangroves trees dripping with fruit bats
Mangrove trees dripping with fruit bats

We are able to anchor very close to the bats and before I know it, Yance begins throwing coconut shells and hooting at the roosting bats. Many take flight and their reddish transparent wings are backlit in the late afternoon light. It is a spectacular sight but I know it is wrong. I was here 10 years ago and a female naturalist guide who had left the rat race in Canada to join the bat race in Riuing, was trying to change the habits of the locals by insisting that the bats be left undisturbed. After Yance’s initial flurry of coconut throwing, the bats slowly return to roost. We watch for 30 minutes more, our boat peacefully rocking in the shelter of the mangroves. When the bats are settled again, Yance stands to throw more coconut bits but I ask him not to disturb them again.

The flying foxes in flight
Bats in flight
Alisha watching the bats

We motor back to the tiny Riuing harbor, tip our boatmen and drive the short distance back to our guest cottage. It is late afternoon and when we arrive and the generator has not yet been turned on. Last night we needed to take showers by flashlight and so as not to be left in the dark, we take our cold showers immediately and notice that the backs of our legs are beginning to flame with sunburn. We may not have added to the pollution on the coral reefs by using sunscreen but we both will be paying the price with terrible sunburns. With the salt rinsed from our bodies, we lather our burns with lotion and Alisha and I walk into the village. Last night, we were not prepared with lollypops but this evening we pass out sour apple pops to the beautiful, curious children who we encounter. Most ask to have their photos taken and we show them their photos on our phone screens and delight in their giggles. One precocious little girl, Alexis, intuitively scrolls backwards and forwards on the screen with her finger.

Riuing village children

A mother sits on her front stoop, her brood around her and bathes a fat baby boy in a tub of soapy water. She beckons us to come into her yard and her photogenic and happy family crowd around her.

Bath time for the baby
Mother and daughter in pink














Back at our guest hotel, we sit in the open air restaurant, watch the gecko channel above and share a large Bintang beer. (The gecko channel is one of my favorites in tropical climates. It is a life and death battle between the insects and the geckos that takes place nightly around bare electric bulbs.) We order chicken skewers and fried potatoes but before the food arrives my vision goes dark, narrowing to a pinprick of light in the center and I begin to spin. This happens in an instant and Alisha sees my unfocused dazed eyes and walks me the few steps to our room. I am hot, faint and my sunburn is blazing but back in the cool dark of the room, and after using the bathroom, I feel better almost instantly. Alisha helps me into bed and I assure her that I will be O.K. and insist that she go back out to the restaurant and enjoy herself. 30 minutes later she returns to the room with an offering of two chicken skewers. I nibble on one, drink some water and fall asleep. Alisha attributes my faintness to too much sun exposure.