Raja Ampat is one of those places that every diver should go to. I could write about the health of the corals and the abundance of fish, but I will show you photos instead. Enjoy!
We’re into day number five on the scuba dive liveaboard. Today is a day of unusual excursions.
This morning we “dive” with dolphins. Not as cool as it sounds. Local fishermen use large nets to scoop up squid through the night. In the morning, they pull in the net, sort through the wildlife to keep the squid and throw the unwanted fish (dead, I think) back into the water. The dolphins have realized that they can get an easy meal of fish by hanging around the boats. We divers attach ourselves to lines at the back of the boat and watch the dolphins eat and frolic. The dolphins come within a few feet of us, so it is quite cool.
Our second excursion to day is to a small lake to swim with jellyfish. Apparently, the jelly fish got trapped in the lake and have been there a very long time. Since there are no predators, they have lost their sting. Crazy tourists now swim with these orange beings. It is interesting but I did not intentionally touch any of them.
The other day, we go on a land excursion to view a heart shaped bay. We must climb up a million (at least) stairs for a bird’s eye view. It is a unique shape and very colourful. By the time we are working our way down the stairs, sweat is dripping off my face and my clean shirt is now not so clean.
By the time I am posting this, we have gone on another land excursion. It is to a lookout in mid Raja Amat, in the Dampier Straight. The view from the lookout is a classic for Raja Ampat. Small islands surrounded by clear blue green water. We drink coconut water right from the coconut after sweating up and down the climb.
The Neptune One accommodates 16 guests. There are eight Americans (six are a group of youngish friends from California that call themselves the Dive Boyz), two Germans, one Swiss, a Brit living in Switzerland and four Canadians. The group gets along well and there is laughter and conversation at every meal.
The Lower Deck has four double guest rooms, crew quarters and the engine room. The Main Deck houses the dive deck at the back, kitchen, dining area and lounge. A sundeck is on the front of the main deck. The Upper Deck has four slightly larger double guest rooms, the wheelhouse and a small sun deck. The Top Deck has a large sundeck with bean bag chairs and no shade. It’s not used much during the hot part of the day.
The crew numbers 17 with personnel for piloting the boat and skiffs, cooking, serving, maintaining the mechanical systems and diving. The routines are terribly efficient and performed with dedication. There is always someone ready to help, whether it is boarding the dive skiff, taking off a wetsuit or a giving a hand going down stairs. And the helper always has a smile. The crews are what makes the live-a-board experience so wonderful.
Our routine is set from the first day. Up at 6:00, small breakfast, dive briefing, dive, big breakfast, dive briefing, dive, lunch, dive briefing, dive, snack, rest, dive briefing, night dive, supper, next day briefing, sleep. There is a small amount of time in between all this to rest, tend to cameras, read or visit.
The cruise was supposed to go into northern Raja Ampat, but because of a dispute with some of the islands, we are rerouted to Misool. Misool is still part of Raja Ampat but south west of Sorong, instead of north. The diving in Misool is exceptional with colourful, healthy corals and an abundance of fish life. At the end of the cruise, we sail to mid Raja Ampat in the Dampier Straight.
Each dive is preceded by a dive briefing to inform us of the terrain, currents, maximum depth, dive length and possible sightings. They last less than 10 minutes.The 16 guests are divided into four groups of four divers, each with their own dive guide. One day, two groups go first, the next day we alternate. It’s easier being in the second group as we have more time to get dressed. I am usually the last one ready when we are first as I wear so many wetsuit layers to stay warm. There are two skiffs, each skiff taking one group and then returning for the second group.
After the briefing, we don our wetsuits, booties, dive computer, grab our masks and cameras and we are ready. Once in the skiff, we ride out to the drop zone and all back roll into the water at the same time. Sorta like navy seals! The skiffs stay close while we are under water. When we surface, after an hour, we climb back on the skiff and zoom back to the mother ship to stow our gear, rinse off, eat and do it again.
Spent last night on the plane to Sorong. We chose Garuda Air because we wanted to avoid Lion Air. The last few times we have dealt with Lion they have messed us up. Changing flight times or cancelling them all together with no regard to connections or time sensitive arrivals. They sent us one email saying a flight had been cancelled and a new flight was scheduled for two hours later. We were on a boat and most of the others on the boat were taking the same flight. Only ½ the group had got that email so we all went for the earlier time and lo and behold the flight had not been cancelled and was at the original time.
The Garuda flight boards at midnight in Jakarta and arrives in Sorong at the ungodly hour of 5am. Garuda got us here without much messing around. So if you want less hassle Garuda is probably the choice. If you want better departure and arrival times you would have to take your chance with Lion Air.
Once in Sorong we did not have any plans so I went for a walk looking for places to eat. Sorong is not a tourist town. Frankly other than a drop off place to get to Raja Ampat I don’t really think you would want to spend any time here. Nice enough place but not much going on from a tourist perspective. The only eating establishments I found were what I would call standard local Indonesian restaurants. These are typically small places with only a few chairs. The food is kept in a sneeze guard type cabinet used as the store front. No heating, no refrigeration, and open to the air on the back side. The food sits in bowls all day long. When you order whatever it is you want it is spooned out into a bowl and served. These are not places to eat for those of us with sensitive western stomachs. It is a recipe for spending a couple of days sitting on the toilet. This of course meant that we were stuck eating in the hotel restaurant. Not our first choice but by far the safest one.
I did manage to stumble across the Remu Market. More or less a typical local market selling fruits, vegetables, household goods, clothing and just about anything one might need. Hundreds of small shops each with its own schtick. The market is huge. I wandered up and down aisles for ½ an hour and didn’t cover any where near the entire market. This is truly a locals market, I did not see one recognizable tourist the entire time.
I ventured into the ‘hood’. I like to see how the ordinary people go about their daily life. It seemed to be a day when the kids were off school. I ran into hoards of children hanging out and playing in the street. They all wanted to at least say hi to the odd white man walking past. The neighbourhood is simple. The houses are small and built side by side. The yard is the asphalt or dirt road just outside the door. There are not very many houses that would work in the northern climate where we live. Windows with glass and doors that would keep the weather at bay are a rarity.
I spent the day seeing what most Indonesian people do. Sorong is totally different from Bali. It is a working city, tourism is not a major industry and Sorong does not put on the airs that Bali must in order to keep the foreigners happy. The people don’t have the excess we in the west ‘need’ but they seem happy anyway, going about what they need to do to live.
Nusa Dua, south of Bali’s airport was on our list of possible places to check out. Looking at the area, on Google Maps, further yesterday, I realize that it is full of high end resorts, shops and restaurants. Other than the beach, there doesn’t seem to be any interesting streets to walk down. So we change our plan.
Yesterday, while riding in the Grab taxi back to our hotel, we drove through the northern part of Kuta. We didn’t realize that Kuta was larger than what we had already walked. So the plan is to walk north to the shopping area of Kuta and then take a taxi back.
Kuta Beach
Once we get past the area where we have already been, we walk by the water. In short, if you are looking for a beach holiday, do not go to Kuta. The water is quite wavy, good for surfers, not so good for playing or swimming. The beach is full of garbage, vendors and permanent kiosks and people. Every vendor asks you to buy a drink, sari, snack, surf lesson, hat. Not my idea of a nice beach environment.
Kuta Beach
We walk inland to intersect with a road that we think all the shops are on. There are many shops for massages, tattoos, mani/pedi, flip flops, Bali crafts, clothes, coffee, the list is endless. I spy a small restaurant and we stop for a much needed drink, rest and lunch. Rice bowls with grilled salmon and edamame for B and me and beef rendang for Murray. It is a much needed stop and we feel rejuvenated after.
There is a convenience store across the street so we go in to buy water. For a 1500ml, the price here is 6,000. The price for the same size of bottle at the store near our hotel, and the airport, is 16,000! Quite the difference. We bought two bottles!
Murray hails a taxi and bargains for a reasonable price. The traffic gets congested the closer we get to the airport. The vehicles, and scooters, move around one another very fluidly. No road rage, just polite giving and taking of position. It’s a karma thing. I let you in this time and next time someone will let me in.
Back at the hotel, it is quiet and cool. No crowds, no noise, just calm. After a day strolling out in the world, that is just what we need.
After flying to Vancouver then Brisbane and then Denpasar, we spend our first full day doing tourist stuff. Downtown Denpasar is our goal as we have not visited that area before.
Our first stop is what we think is the palace of the once King of Pemecutan. It was the center of the Badung Kingdom in the late 1600s. Walking through, I can see the grandeur it once had under the moss and slowly disintegrating brickwork.
A short walk from the palace is the Badung Market. It is housed in two enormous buildings, one for fruit, vegetables and foodstuffs and the other for more tourist purchases of clothes, jewelry and crafts. As soon as we walk towards the first building, we are approached by a woman who explains the buildings and chats us up. She follows us into the first building and won’t stop following us. Once we move to the second building, she disappears and another woman takes her place.
What do you want to buy? Nothing, just looking. Do you want to buy a shirt? No. Do you want to buy a brass elephant? No. Bling? No. Fabric? No. As soon as we descend the stairs to go outside, she disappears. These ladies most likely get a commission from the vendor if we actually buy something.
Badung Market
After wandering down aisles of fruits and veggies, we cut through an aisle of chickens and fish. B goes to put her foot down and SURPRISE! there’s a RAT! She lets out a reflexive squeal and I grab her to make sure she doesn’t the topple over. We get out of that aisle as quick as we can go!
Our next stop is the statue Catar Muka, centered in a traffic circle followed by walking through a park. We hear music, so wander in that direction. There is a live band performing a Cranberries song and sounding pretty good. A crowd of various age is enjoying the event. We sit and listen to a few songs before moving on.
Catar Muka Statue
When we left the hotel, we asked at the front desk how much a taxi would be to the Pemecutan Palace and were quoted 375,000 Rupiah. We then walked into the food fare close by and asked a taxi fellow how much he would charge. 300,000 he says. Murray gets him down to 250,000 and we are off. When we start to look for a taxi downtown to go back to the hotel, we realize that there are almost none going by. Murray asks a woman walking by if she would order a Grab Taxi (like Uber) for us. Within minutes, one is picking us up. His quoted price is 90,000 to get us into Kuta, just north of the airport. Amazing price differences!
By the time we get back to the hotel, we are hot, tired and our feet are talking to us. A sign of a good day in downtown Denpasar.
In 2006, my extended family took a trip to Greece to celebrate our father and grandfather. On the trip were my sister and her husband (R&D), my daughter and her partner (M&G), my son and his fiancée (M&D) and Murray and me. Some of us had been to Greece before but a few had not.
I had gotten used to Greece’s scenery, noise, people and way of doing things, as I had been going there since I was 7 years old so it was wonderful to see Greece through G’s eyes. Everything was new, fascinating and exotic to him. It made it fresh for me too. His excitement was contagious.
Our friend, B, Murray and I are leaving for Indonesia in a few days. Murray and I have been there a number of times but B has not. I remember how G reacted to Greece and I want to see Indonesia through B’s eyes. We will stop, look around, breathe in, talk to folks and enjoy the country as if we haven’t been there before.
We have planned our itinerary so we travel to some spots on Bali we haven’t visited. One is the north west corner where the diving is supposed to be wonderful. One stop is Ubud, in central Bali, and having been there before, we will search out walks and sites new to us.
In Australia, we have planned a car trip through the hinterland from Brisbane south to the Gold Coast – a new adventure for all three of us. We will spend a few days on the Gold Coast treating B to our favorite haunts, the beach, the Speedo Outlet Store, Currumbim Wildlife Sanctuary and the Gold coast Aquatic Centre.
We have some packing and then travel days ahead of us, will post again once in Brisbane (if jet lag doesn’t get us first!). The excitement is building!
Pretty much every village, town and city in all of Holland and at least Flanders in Belgium have a few common high points. No matter how big or small the place ,they all have at least one and often several very large churches or kerken. They all have a Grote Markt which is a central square or market place always lined with restaurants. Somewhere close to the center of town is a shopping street for pedestrians only. More often than not, there is an ancient Stadhuis, city hall. It is usually huge and does not relate to the size of the town or city but most were built 4 or 5 hundred years ago when, I’m guessing, the Stadhuis was a status symbol. In both countries there are several pleins, squares, open areas surrounded by buildings lined with shops and restaurants used for celebrations and weekly markets.
The streets are not all streets and avenues. A common city street in a town or city is a Straat. A major road or a highway is referred to as Weg. If you are walking along the beach on a hard surface you are on the Strand. In the Netherlands, more so than in Belgium, the roads that align with the canals are named Gracht.
In North America, we for the most part, live horizontal as far as our house layout. The house and even the apartments or condos are on one or two levels. In Europe at least in the urban areas the houses are very narrow and the people live in a vertical fashion. The bedroom may be on the 4th or even the 5th story of a building with only a few feet of street frontage. Each of the other floors are designated has one specific use such as the living area or the kitchen/dining area.
Living Vertical
Tipping in either place is neither common nor expected. I noted that when the ‘tipping’ request showed up on the credit card payment machine the waiter would skip by it before handing me the machine to tap my card. In Bruges, a very touristy place, I was once asked for a tip. Extremely rude I felt. I think the fellow may have thought I was American or maybe just a stupid tourist. Anyway, I said no, I don’t think I made his day. There was a sign on the canal boat we were on suggesting tipping was a ‘custom’ but very few people actually put money in the fellow’s hat and then only coins.
Amsterdam is a very liberal place. There are some unusual things there like coffee shops where smoking pot is more prevalent than drinking coffee and of course there is the red light district with the products on display in the shop window. Just don’t be shocked when you are at Schipol airport on your way to the departure gate and a fairly burly fellow with bright red hair and a bushy red beard has just arrived and is heading to immigration dressed head to toe like Heidi complete with a red dress, knee socks and pigtails. Even after a few days walking around Amsterdam, that made me turn my head. The Dutch say ‘Doe maar normal, dan doe je al gik genoeg.’ (Direct translation: Just act normal, that’s crazy enough.) But in Holland it actually implies ‘We’re all a bit odd, so let’s not make a fuss about it’. And no one was making a fuss.
Debbie and I were trying not to get sick. We are going diving two weeks after we get back home and sick and diving don’t mix. So what do we do? Spend the last two days in Europe in one of the busiest cities, going to art galleries. Not the best strategy. The places were crowded to very crowded to extremely crowded. People were hacking and sneezing and we just tried to keep our distance. Then we started our journey home. Schipol Airport is a major hub, not just in Europe but of the world. You cannot find any place to isolate and avoid sick people. Montreal’s Trudeau airport was next and although not quite as crowded there were no secluded spots there either. If you are trying to remain healthy for any reason I would not recommend visiting galleries or museums on the last couple of days away and definitely avoid both of the above airports. When we arrived in Edmonton at about 10pm it was deserted. So far our health has remained intact.
Here are some of my take aways from the last month in Holland and Belgium.
Moving in the Netherlands looks like a very expensive process. I watched some movers working over a couple of days. The unit being moved into was on the 9th story. The building had a court off the road. The furniture was being moved in and out on an extendable pole lift with a bucket ,to the balcony. Two fellows at the top and two at the bottom. In prep for the truck and the lift to sit on the courtyard, huge metal plates were put down. The truck backed up to the lift, the outgoing stuff was loaded into the bucket, then lowered, the up going stuff then loaded in the bucket. This went on for hours. The next day the metal plates were lifted. All this would cost considerably more than a truck and elevator system used in North America.
When I am out riding at home and a rider passes in the opposite direction we usually acknowledge each other. When passing another rider a word is usually exchanged. When passing a pedestrian a good morning is usually offered. There was only one place in either Belgium or the Netherlands where an unsolicited response was offered. Around Veere, where there are many descendants of expat Scotsmen who moved there when the textile trade was running high. As we passed people there, early one morning, we were offered a hello or good morning. It was a noticeable difference.
The city riders in both countries have balls. They ride along on the bike roads and paths without much worry. It is up to the pedestrians to stop and look both ways both at the bike path and the road. The riders cruise by cross streets without pausing or even looking. When entering another bike path they just flow around the corner, any approaching riders move over slightly and avoid a collision. We are the weirdos as we slow and try to look both ways, we just don’t trust that drivers or other cyclists will accommodate us. There is one thing that the riders in both countries stop for, the red bike lights. There were very few riders that disobeyed those stop signals.
Customer service is not quite the same as it is in North America. Twice we had waiters forget our order and had to approach them to make sure we ate. One day at hotel reception it was shift change. There was a line up, only one person at the desk. There were 3 other workers hovering around behind her. When the working lady had finished with the customer she bowed out with “my colleague will help you in a minute”. She left. The hovering people continued with what they were doing and we stood in line. The fellow in front of me shook his head, I shrugged my shoulders. Quitting time is quitting time I guess. This would not happen if I was in charge.
Vinyl records have made a comeback the last few years. I occasionally notice a ‘record store’ when wandering around a NA city. I think we passed 5 shops selling record albums the last two days we were in Amsterdam. We passed at least one record store in every city and town, no matter how small.
We found croissants in both countries. The bakers in both counties have a long way to go to match French croissants. The ones we ate were wrapped triangles of bread, not the flakey batter used in real croissants. That said, the bread and buns available at the supermarket were fantastic. Almost all of my breakfasts and lunches were buns and PB.
That is all for now I will post part 2 in a couple of days.
I have been thinking a lot about what an English fellow we met at a ferry said to us. He said we had too much stuff. He was camping and still only had four panniers, albeit large ones. He thought we had too many clothes. His riding and street clothes were the same clothes. Here is what I packed for clothes:
Riding
2 pair cycling shorts
2 cycling jerseys
Light jacket
Heavy rain jacket
Heavy rain pants
Pair of riding tights
Cycling gloves
Helmet
Armings (used instead of a long sleeved jersey)
Small hat for under helmet
2 pair cycling socks
Pair of cycling shoes
Pair of warm over gloves
Pair of cycling over shorts with belt
Street Clothes
2 pair of pants-1 technical, 1 linen
3 icebreaker wool shirts-varying sleeve lengths
3 pair of undies
1 pair of socks
Down sweater
Buff
Small sun/rain hat
Scarf
In my view, taking the right amount of clothes is all about risk. How much risk, of being wet, of being cold, of being dirty, are you willing to take. My risk tolerance for wet and cold is almost zero and my risk tolerance for dirty varies depending on the item of clothing. Socks and street pants are high tolerance for dirty, cycling shorts is closer to zero.
With those tolerances in mind, I could have reduced my riding clothes by one jersey, the small hat and one pair of socks. I wore everything else regularly. For the street clothes, I could have reduced by the pair of linen pants as I only wore them once. I also could have left one pair of undies at home. I wore all three shirts regularly, along with the down sweater. So, this would be a small reduction of overall volume and weight in my pannier.
We carried a first aid kit and specific bike parts and tools. Did we really need to carry these? Maybe not, but again what is the risk tolerance? The English fellow’s tolerance is much higher than ours as he did not seem have as many “what if” supplies.
A couple of items we brought that we were waffling on turned into great things to have. A lightweight grocery bag which we used for the few groceries we bought every day and it was also used to carry our water bottles up and down to the rooms each day. A small pair of scissors ended up in the bag and we used them a lot, mainly to open lunch meat and cracker packages. We also brought a plastic knife and spoon and they were also used, mainly for peanut butter.
For my weight and physical ability, I think that I was carrying a reasonable load for my level of risk tolerance.
Cyclocross rider in the rain
Living in Canada, I have gotten used to certain free perks. In Europe, there are not many of these free perks. Toilets cost 1 Euro, unless you are eating at a restaurant and then use of the toilet is free. Tap water is not free in a restaurant. Ketchup or mayonnaise is 1 Euro. Napkins are free! Is it to cut down waste or excessive use? Perhaps.
Walking towards and then passing by people is always a game of chicken in Europe. I got good at waiting until the last moment to move slightly over, as the person also moved slightly over. Europeans have a much closer zone of comfort than North Americans. On the bike, I just maintained riding a straight line and let the locals move around me. Although sometimes I just stopped to let someone by!
In The Netherlands, the typical bedding is two twin comforters on a queen or king bed. Then each person has their own covers. I LOVE this practise! No more cold channel between us and no more fighting for the blanket! Watch out! I may instigated this in our house.
On our various stops, we encountered chestnuts, walnuts and hazelnuts laying on the ground. Not consumable by humans but good for squirrels.
Statistics:
Numbers of kms ridden – 705
Number of days riding – 16
Number of days touring cities – 12
Number of different hotels – 16
Number of museums visited – 13
Best Stadhuis – Leuven
Best Museum – Kunstmuseum, The Hague
Number of random acts of kindness bestowed on us – 2
