Islands with cats

Yes, my trusty little moped carried me safely on the roads of Sumatra, doing so speedily on the flat and downhill, and not so speedily on the uphills. Sometimes the strain of the route was almost too much for her overloaded 110 CC’s. I am grateful for her carrying me without ever deciding to quit on me, even though she sometimes was not quick enough to glide gracefully around potholes, but rather decided to see how much of a dirt bike there was in her. But the Sumatran motoring story ended well, with no scrapes or cuts on either, and both in high spirits. I said my goodbyes to her after having her washed and waxed by some incredibly enthusiastic young locals, who to our amazement, spent 45 minutes attending all her cosmetic needs for a bare minimum of compensation.





A highlight of our time together was when, along with my friend Opa, she found her way to a previously uninhabited beach on the West coast of Sumatra. There we made camp under some small trees, sleeping in hammocks, and cooking with driftwood on the beach. Spending a few days with only basic food and living conditions, but with a spectacular view opening before us, made for an incredible experience not easily forgotten. The Indian Ocean, with waves rolling in from Antarctica, was something that was a pleasure to wake up to, even on the mornings that a school of dolphins wasn’t there to greet us.





One day when taking my little moped out for a drive I happened to see a man by the road, slowly stripping the bark from a tree he had cut down. I gathered it was the same bark that I had seen in the area, drying in neat rows spread out on the sides of roads. This is cinnamon, at its source. I wanted to know more, so I spent some time looking at what he was doing, and asking him as much as I could with the language barrier between us. I learned something, as did the man. Both were quite troubled by what we had learnt. In the West, cinnamon is a fairly expensive spice, with one kilogram of whole cinnamon costing roughly 50 euros. I had assumed that the farmer who does the most work would at least get a few percent of that price. I was wrong. The farmer sold the cinnamon he produced for six cents a kilo. Thats 0.12 percent of the price of cinnamon going to the farmer! In retrospect I wish I hadn’t even told him how much we pay, as the feeling of being royally cheated was very clear on his face. There is a great deal of money going into the pockets of the middle men and corporations as the spice makes its way to the end consumer in Europe. I decided then that I will be choosing more Fair Trade products when I am again shopping in Europe.





This enlightening moment happened on the shores of a volcanic lake, Maninjau. This volcanic basin gave us a home and a base to go exploring the surroundings in a great change to the sometimes oppressive heat and humidity elsewhere. The days reminded me of warm summer days in Finland, and this was reinforced by the lake with its salt free, 25 degree water. It also happened that both Opa and me fell a little ill then, so the bungalow also provided us with an excellent place to rest and recuperate.







Another aspect that I enjoy, in Maninjau, as well as other places in Indonesia, is that there are far more cats than dogs. It is no secret that I am far more fond of cats then dogs, and meeting healthy cats all over Indonesia instead of flee infested mangy barking dogs is great. Most of the cats are in good health, with the exception of the tail, which is usually either short or then twisted in angles or even spirals. I have heard many different reasons for this, although I haven’t figured out what causes this for sure. Most likely it is genetics or environmental factors, although in the beginning I was suspicious of some strange local custom, but this has in my investigations proved unlikely. And its also quite common in many countries in Asia.



So again a month has passed, a time that seems like a long time, but still a time that flashes by, leaving only memories and (hopefully) lessons learned and experience gained. In a country like Indonesia, so vast and diverse, with an innumerable things to do, see and experience, one month is not even enough to explore one island, one of many. And thats not even taking into account the time I spend in the water around those islands. I have spent much time in the ocean and will be spending even more during the next two months. I now started training to become a divemaster, and this should hopefully be testing me in my dive skills and knowledge as well. And since you are reading this, I have a task for you. Think about the following: If you have time to spare, or you feel the need to get away from something, or you just need a break, you are invited to join me here on a small island near Bali. I am sure you will love it here, and I promise I will share with you some of the wonders the Underwater World has to offer. You will not be disappointed if you do make it this far. Trust me.