Just one too many litterbugs have thrown their wrappers and bottles out of their bus window on the highway, and I can not stand it anymore. I am going to let off some steam. I know it is impolite to say rude things about your hosts, but the future of our planet is more important than good manners.
We are eating in the Padang, the local cafe. A window display full of plates of cold chicken pieces, sardines, potato croquettes, spinach and assorted other delicacies that vary from province to province. Flies optional. Rice obligatory. Initial surprise that “bule” [pronounced 'bull-aye', meaning 'whitey'] would wander in to this decidely un-touristy venue.
The island of Flores is so breathtakingly wild, raw and real that It’s no wonder that the locals are devout Christians. It would be easy to believe in God when you are surrounded by such beauty. Common sense would imply that a skilled artist had carefully crafted the landscapes.
Now we do not want this to turn into a competition. There is already too much rivalry in travel tales tall and true. “I remember Bali in the 70’s” is good but trumped by “I went through Timor, mate, when it was Portugese…”.
But does everyone have a “you would not believe it but…” story? Here is ours.