South East Asia

September - December 2022
Backpacking with a pinch of thesis writing Read more
  • 53footprints
  • 9countries
  • 113days
  • 327photos
  • 37videos
  • 37.3kkilometers
  • 23.5kkilometers
  • Day 1

    Lisbon — Adventure Take off

    September 1, 2022 in Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C

    Happy birthday to me! And what better gift to myself than the trip of a lifetime? South East Asia, here I go!

    Vasco — my childhood friend who shared the first too weeks of this adventure with me — took off to Indonesia on a different flight than mine. Even so I thought we would cross paths at the airport, but it didn't happen.

    I met my friend Letícia instead who was on her way to a vacation in the south of France. It was a nice farewell!
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  • Day 1–2

    Zurich — A Taste of Misadventure

    September 1, 2022 in Switzerland ⋅ 🌙 15 °C

    My first stop — an 8 hour layover in Zurich, Switzerland. Having been to the city multiple times in the past I decided to just get some sleep at the airport which was surprisingly comfortable.

    In the morning I slowly crossed the airport to the gate where I would take my next flight to Abu Dhabi. I saw the usual queue form in front of the gate while I drank my coffee. Usually I'd be happy to wait for the queue to dwindle before making my way to the gate, but on that day I luckily joined the queue sooner.

    The flight attendants opened the gate and asked everybody to put on their masks. Ups, I didn't have any mask on me. I asked one of the attendants if they had masks and he annoyingly told me to go out looking for one in the terminal. I left running with my heart pumping.

    After an erratic sprint I found masks being sold at a nearby kiosk and came back running to the end of the queue. Breathless and 3 francs poorer. In front of me a big family walked through the gate totally oblivious of the mask requirements. When the very same flight attended asked them to put on their masks they just shrugged and said they didn't have any, to which the attendant took a few from a hidden pile and handed it over to them. I was livid.

    But things were about to get worse. Once I got to the front of the gate the grumpy attendant asked me to prove I had a ticket out of Indonesia. I knew it was one of the Indonesian tourist visa requirements, but I was still caught off guard as I thought I'd be asked in Abu Dhabi, my last stop before Indonesia, not in Zurich.

    I excused myself and started to frantically search Skyscanner for possible destinations out of Indonesia. If the sprint hadn't been enough to get my heart pumping, the prospect of losing my flight to Jakarta certainly was. I did my best to keep calm while seeing the queue getting shorter and shorter. Maybe 5 minutes was all I had to make a decision that was likely to shape the rest of my travels. I settled on a flight from Bali to Kuala Lumpur and just like that my fate was sealed. After a long minute of repeatedly refreshing my email I was able to show my fresh ticket to the cranky flight attendant who allowed me to board the plane just as the boarding was coming to an end. And off I went to Abu Dhabi.
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  • Day 2–3

    Abu Dhabi — The Reunion

    September 2, 2022 in the United Arab Emirates ⋅ 🌙 33 °C

    Abu Dhabi's airport looked like every other major airport ever. The signs I had just landed on an Arab country were people's clothing and the food options at restaurants.

    I landed an hour and change ahead of Vasco. I found a comfortable spot at the arrivals area of the airport and snoozed while waiting for him. It would be almost 7 hours in-between flights which would give enough time to go out and do some sight seeing around Abu Dhabi. Things didn't go as planned though.

    Vasco's flight was delayed, and then he couldn't find the exit of his terminal. He allegedly asked multiple people for directions, who pointed towards disparaging directions making him run in circles for an hour or so. All while sending me confusing messages claiming to be almost out the whole time.

    At some point he made it, freeing himself of the terminal-labyrinth trap. We met at the arrivals and had a good laugh at his expense. Unfortunately we had lost a good chunk of time thus leaving us with no other choice than to skip our express visit to Abuh Dhabi. All we could do was to get some dinner (or was it lunch?).

    As soon as we stepped out of the airport we were swallowed by the thick and hot humidity of the Persian Gulf. The evening's hot air left my glasses fogged, my clothes humid and my hands sticky. It could have been worse though — this evening was the aftermath of a hellish 45 °C afternoon.

    Any wish to be outside evaporated and we went looking for a restaurant in the airport. After finding food we just hung around in the terminal waiting for our flight to Jakarta.
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  • Day 3–5

    Jakarta — A Jetlaggy Start

    September 3, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ ⛅ 26 °C

    Jakarta was somewhat of a blur, smeared by the jet lag and the cultural shock. As we left the airport behind us, we became immersed in the hustle and bustle of a big city. Despite the business of the people in the street, no one tried to intercept us to sell anything or get our attention. I felt immediately at ease.

    After a good hour in different transports we walked half an hour to our hostel. The roads had little to no sidewalks, and small stalls sprinkled sparsely through the streets sold nice smelling but strange looking foods. Motorbikes went randomly back and forth on the wrong side of the street, flashing us randomly with their headlights as the night set in.

    During our stay we enjoyed randomly walking through the streets of Jakarta. Going to markets, exploring temples, checking out the colonial era architecture and learning some history with the many dioramas at the base of the National Monument.

    It was close to the National Monument that I felt the first true cultural shock, when we passed by a group of girls that were very obviously observing us and we exchanged a few circumstantial words with one of them that sent the whole group giggling. Being a curiosity to the locals was something we became accustomed to on the island of Java. This attention was always very friendly and never overstepped our personal boundaries. It was a pleasure to take a minute to chat with random onlookers and maybe take a picture or two. I never felt so much like a celebrity!

    Everywhere we went we made an effort to mingle with the locals. The hostel staff recommended us a restaurant, or better said a "warung", 5 minutes down the street, where we sat amongst the Indonesian. We would pick our dinner from the large array of delicacies on display and pay at the end, usually having no idea how the prices worked. We were not too worried though since the price per meal never exceeded 2 euros with everything included and the food was delicious if a tad too spicy for Vasco at times.

    We also made our first hostel friend — Antonia — a British girl on her way to Yogyakarta where she intended to stay for several months. She recommended the hostel yezyezyez. More on that later.

    After two nights the jet lag wasn't as bad. We said goodby to Antonia and Jakarta and took the train to Bandung.
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  • Day 5

    Bandung — Scooter Goes Vroom Vroom

    September 5, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ ☁️ 24 °C

    We stopped at Bandung for a single day. As our train approached the city I started looking online for a scooter rental to make the most out of the day. I found this place called "Rental Motor Bandung | NEO" with 5.0 stars on google maps and didn't think twice, as soon as the train stopped off we went to rent our scooter.

    Arriving there with our grab rides it became painfully obvious that these guys bought all the 1660 perfect reviews, because it was a tiny operation — they had just one bike that they'd rent out of the tiny backyard of their family home, at the end of a narrow alleyway. The cherry on top — the bike was Doraemon themed!

    A lovely grandma offered us some fried banana pastries that we devoured while the rental guys hesitantly accepted my Portuguese driving license and prepared the paperwork.

    I jumped on the scooter with Vasco behind me and very clumsily took off under the worried gaze of the rental guys. With my jerky driving, we soon melted into the traffic heading north. The bike was easy enough to maneuver and I was starting to gain confidence on the road when rain started pouring in big fat drops. We got our rain jackets on but couldn't continue driving on the wet asphalt, and so we took refuge under a tree at the side of the road.

    With the weather not giving, we went looking for lunch. After a long time walking back and forth, completely soaked, and not finding a working ATM, we had to have lunch at a KFC as it was the only place around that accepted card payments.

    The rain finally gave in to a hot and sunny day, and in minutes the road, that minutes before was starting to look like a river, became completely dry. There were no signs that it ever rained.

    We continued our journey towards the floating market first, where I had a strange fried banana with cheese and chocolate as a snack, and to the tea plantations after that. Both were very pretty.

    We came back to Bandung already after dark. The family renting the bike was extremely kind. The grandma offered us more food, we took pictures together and the guys even offered us a ride to the train station that we happily accepted.

    Moved by their hospitality, we left the city on an overnight train to Yogyakarta.
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  • Day 6–9

    Yogyakarta — Birthday Fun Days

    September 6, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C

    Vasco and I arrived very early in the morning, coming from a badly slept night on an overnight train. A grab ride later we found ourselves in a sketchy back alley at 5 a.m. searching for the entrance to the hostel yezyezyez that had been recommended by Antonia back in Jakarta.

    After walking up and down the back alley there was little doubt that that rusty grey door had to be the entrance to the hostel. We knocked a few times but to no answer. Luckily they didn't lock the door, and so we made our way inside. The common area was a big open courtyard with tables, a pool and even a pond for tortoises, surrounded by plants all around and the quirky yet charming architecture of someone that started hammering boards together without so much of a plan. The anarchist-like structures, and possible safety hazards, contrasting with an eerie chilled energy of the place.

    I managed to get some sleep on one of the hammocks, rocking side to side over the pool. In the meantime Vasco was wandering around. I don't think he managed to sleep much.

    The sunlight was bringing the courtyard to life by the time someone checked us in. We left our belongings in one of the lockers, finally free to start exploring. The first order of business was to find food and a motorbike. A modern looking hotel across from the main street offered a good breakfast and a scooter that we gladly took for the day. With our bellies full we hit the road that would take us out of the city towards the Prambanan temples.

    The ride was long but worth it. The ancient temples seemed straight out of a Tomb Raider game or an Indiana Jones film. The three main shrines in the Prambanan temple are dedicated to Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, the gods of creation, preservation and destruction.

    The temples were pretty, and the Google translated stories of the temple in the flyers I found were hilarious, but it was too hot to stay around for too long. Some honourable memories from the site include Vasco trying his hand at archery and a Guavo ice-cream that was served on a cup but cut in slices instead of scoops… I cringed for all my Italian friends.

    We left the temple towards Puncak Becici, a natural park high up in a hill overseeing the region of Jogja. Surrounded by nature, the park offered beautiful viewpoints connected by man made trails running in between the trees. While walking one of these trails we stumbled upon a small group of people playing traditional Indonesian music. We took a minute to enjoy the music but soon they were inviting us to dance. I happily accepted the invitation while Vasco laughed, shouted in encouragement and at some point took out his phone to film. A lady put a scarf on my shoulders and I began to rock my scarf to the rhythm of the music. Soon after, a few Indonesian ladies joined the dancing and even taught me a few moves. It was a lot of fun!

    The group of locals dancing with me later introduced themselves. They were from the region and the lady that taught me how to dance was a primary school teacher. Something she was clearly very proud of. We could feel the respect that her companions had for her and her profession. We said our goodbyes but only after the mandatory group selfie.

    Out of all the times we were asked by locals to take selfies, the one that takes the cake happened in Puncak Becici. While we were enjoying a magnificent view over the region, a girl approached Vasco and asked him for a romantic selfie. “A romantic selfie??”, We exchanged confused looks but Vasco hesitantly agreed to the selfie. The girl held both his hands with a huge smile and one foot raised behind her in an old fashioned romantic pose. Meanwhile Vasco's faint smile and questioning look made clear he wasn't as committed to the short-lived romance as his selfie partner. I somehow managed to contain my laughter long enough to snap a photo, and I’m so glad that this moment was captured for eternity.

    The following day we headed west, to the waterfalls at Taman Sungai Mudal, following the advice of the receptionist at the hotel where once again we rented our scooter and ate breakfast. The road was windy, steep and full of holes but also very beautiful when deep in the forest.

    The park was hidden in the natural landscape. It followed a small river that came out of a cavern and folded into multiple waterfalls downstream, with natural pools of clear water that tempted visitors with a swim.

    It was a place mostly enjoyed by locals. Due to the language barrier we had to resort to pointing at images at the food stand to get some lunch. I was trying to eat some form of rice but somehow instant noodles was all we managed.

    Unfazed, we went for a swim in the cold waters, enjoyed the sun and explored the park. I found a pond used as a fish spa. Many locals were sitting at its edge with their feet dangling inside while happily chatting. I joined them, despite struggling to keep my feet in the water due to the tickling of the fish, which earned me amused looks and giggles. In no time I was having a chat with a few of the locals who told me that they were all teachers from a school nearby and came there for a team building day at the waterfalls.

    They invited me and Vasco to join them for lunch which we were happy to accept. The food was a humble Nasi Goreng with tofu, egg and a cup of tea. Under everyone's attention, we were brought to the centre of a small pavilion to sit and eat with the principal of the school and their two English teachers. They told us all about their school and curiosities of the region and we told them about our travels and our lives back in Europe. After eating and drinking, they asked us to take pictures. We took a picture with the principal and the two teachers, and a group picture with most of the teachers, but then a queue started forming and teachers came one by one to take pictures with us. We felt like celebrities. Still dumbfounded by their attention and kindness, we left them to their team building activities to start the motorbike journey to our next stop.

    We arrived at the Borobudur temple late in the afternoon. With the weather threatening to rain we wasted no time to start exploring. The temple’s multiple levels represent the different stages on the path to Nirvana, the ultimate state of illumination. It is said to be one of the largest temples in the world, which I can't help but find curious since Java is mostly islamic.
    While randomly walking around the temple I suddenly realised that I had seen that view before. I was exactly where Sílvia, my friend from Geneva, made a video for their blog (https://sobrelamarcha.wordpress.com/2016/02/23/…). I couldn’t resist taking a photo in the exact same spot doing my best impression of Silvia. That earned me a few good laughs in our group chat.

    Nearby, Vasco spotted a huge black scorpion on a gutter on the side of a road. It was a childhood dream of mine to see one of these bugs in the wild and I suddenly felt like I was 10 years old again. They're so cool and badass! A little further away we found some Asian elephants in captivity. It was Vasco's turn to be overcome with childish enthusiasm.

    We rode back to Yogyakarta and returned the bike before getting dinner. I later left Vasco at the restaurant to meet with Vee, a local that managed a community of artists that I had met online. Her English was not as good as I’d hoped, but the conversation was pleasant. We got along well, and she invited me to prolong the night after we left the bar. But by then it was midnight and I left to go celebrate Vasco's birthday. Bros before hoes.

    Vasco's birthday was a relatively chill day. We hung around Yogyakarta, had some good food and some good laughs. We met a bunch of nice people at the hostel, including Antonia, who we had previously met in Jakarta and recommended that hostel.

    I had a particularly interesting conversation with an Indonesian girl who was trying to make it in the Palm oil exporting business. She told us how shady and difficult it is to do business in Indonesia. How she would save all her money to be able to afford paying dinners for her potential business partners just to get a chance to be let in their club. It sounded savage.

    She was on such a tight budget that she didn't go out with us. Me, Vasco, Antonia and a few more people from the hostel went to the bar behind the hostel for dinner and drinks and had a really fun night. When the live band asked for music suggestions I requested a birthday song for Vasco that the whole bar sang, and later a local offered us slices of cake that she baked because she too was celebrating her birthday.

    Vee sent me a video of myself in the bar saying that she knew where I was, which I found creepy as hell. Turns out the American guy that we were hanging out with was chatting with her and unkowingly had sent a video of the bar to her. I didn’t tell him I had had a date with the girl he was chatting with. I hope he got away.

    Vasco and I went to bed very late and with a few too many drinks. The problem is that we had to leave at 6 a.m. for our multiple day tour of the volcanoes in east Java. With a drunk Vasco totally out asleep next to me, I knew we were in trouble — no way would I be able to go to sleep while drunk and wake up with the alarm three hours later to start our volcano journey.

    Luckily for us, I was chatting with my friend Letícia who was back in Europe and she managed to keep me awake with some cheeky chatting until it was time to wake up Vasco. We met our tour contact at 6 a.m. sharp and set off with a mix of drunkenness, hangover and lack of sleep, on a brutal trip that would keep me sleep deprived for 3 days. It was all worth it though.
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  • Day 10

    Mount Bromo — An Epic Sunrise

    September 10, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C

    With an alcohol fuelled all-nighter weighing on me, the full day of travel ahead tested the limits of my endurance. It started with a car transfer to the train station followed by an 8 hour train ride to a coastal town called Probolinggo. Despite my tiredness, I couldn't rest in the short, vertical and non reclinable seats. The non existent leg room restricting my positioning options. Vasco was deep asleep, head hanging like a ragdoll with the shaking of the carriage. I felt myself slipping in and out of consciousness, but never comfortable or rested.

    We arrived at Probolinggo in the middle of the afternoon. A short middle aged man was waiting for us with a paper sign. He was to bring us to the tour agency, maybe one hour away, where all the travellers would gather to then be taken up the mountains. "Where are you guys from?", he asked us, showing very little interest in the answer other than a poor attempt at a Ronaldo joke. He asked us to wait for other travellers so that he didn't have to do multiple trips. We agreed without hesitation but even then he aggressively warned us not to tell his superiors which apparently some tourists did, getting him in trouble. He was a bit of a strange man.

    To kill some time, he dropped us at the the town's pier. A place nice enough to walk a bit by the sea and enjoy some sun. The small beach next to the pier didn't have the most appealing appearance. In the distance, big cargo ships and other boats dotted the horizon. Walking alongside the pier, we reached a wired fence with a large human sized hole in it. Some people crossed casually in both directions so we decided to cross it as well. It felt like the kind of place where teenagers came to hangout. We saw fishermen waiting patiently beside their fishing rods, dogs being walked, a diver catching sea porcupines, and young people chatting the afternoon away in small groups.

    Probolinggo, and its industrial pier, didn't have much to offer. We met with our driver and he took us to the train station where we waited for the others.

    Eventually the old van became full of westerners and their luggage. It took us maybe 40 minutes to get to the agency's office where a tourist agent detailed the plan for the next couple of days over a comically bad map painted on the wall behind the counter. We were then separated into small vans to take on the 2 or 3 hours trip through the wild interior of the island towards the guest house at the base of the Bromo mountain. The night fell as we followed the bumpy road deeper into the forest. My phone had no signal and I soon dozed off.

    A brisk dusk was turning to nightfall by the time the car stopped at our accommodation. A simple and small building in the middle of a steep paved street, surrounded by similar looking buildings forming a small mountain town. A nice man received us and helped us with our luggage. He looked surprised to see us for some reason. Instead of entering through the front door he apologised and asked us to follow him through a balcony around the side of the building to a room in the back. It was simple und humble, but more than enough for two guys fighting to keep their eyelids open. We still mustered the courage to get some dinner in the town's only open restaurant before calling it an early night.

    Our alarms rang just a few hours later. A jeep came to pick us up at 2 in the morning. After filling the jeep with a few more tourists we took off up the mountain. As time went by, the trip became progressively more chaotic. It's strange to see so many jeeps going up the mountain at 3 or 4 a.m., in a place otherwise very wild. The ride ended on a narrow mountain road so full of traffic that our jeep came to a stop. We agreed on a time to meet our driver and walked up the rest of the way until we found a nice viewpoint over the whole crater.

    We sat on the ground for a couple of hours, soaking in the view. At 5 a.m. the dawn came with amazing purple, red and yellow colours, made more dramatic by the huge crater filled with mist that spanned the whole view in front of us. In the middle of it, 2 small chimneys stood out, the smallest of which was visibly active. Its plume of smoke rising to the sky and blending with the sunrise colours so peacefully that it almost felt like someone was brewing coffee inside. Pale mountains were visible farther towards the horizon. One of them was mount Ijen, another volcano that we would see up close pretty soon. As the sun rose the colours shifted across the sky, and the mist below us dissipated revealing a brown ground with a little green mixed in, sliced by dirt roads used by the jeeps.

    We met back with our driver that took us down to the crater where we stopped to explore and hike up to the edge of the active chimney. Getting up to the edge felt like standing on the event horizon of a blackhole — one more step forward off the ledge and nothing would stop the slide down the steep inner walls towards the smoky bubbly hole a few hundred metres below us. We couldn't see the inside of it, but the boiling sound and the smoke heavy with the smell of sulphur curbed any desire of getting any closer.

    On the way back Vasco flexed his haggling skills to buy a sweater from one of the local merchants before we jumped back in our Jeep to drive down the mountain. Our next stop would be an even more hardcore volcano.
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  • Day 11

    Mount Ijen ­— The Steps of Mordor

    September 11, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C

    The sleep deprivation was taking a toll. My memories of the day are hazy and full of gaps. We spent most of the time in transit, crossing jungle and rice fields on poorly maintained roads. Once again Vasco amazed me with his ability to be deep asleep while looking like a ragdoll with each bump in the road. Having my shoulder for a pillow probably helped. I couldn't sleep as easily but ultimately the tiredness took over.

    The stopping of the car woke me up. We were surrounded by the deep greens of the jungle, and further ahead was our accommodation. Independent small cabins, interspersed by the lush plants and trees, each framed by a front porch. At the centre, a wooden roofed platform served as a common open dining space where we all gathered to have a humble dinner of nasi goreng and fruit. The other travellers were mostly Spanish couples with a few Dutch and Polish in the mix. After some mingling we retreated to our cabin to recover as some of the precious missing sleep.

    At 1 a.m. we were leaving our rooms to start the journey to Mount Ijen. But before starting the hike, our car dropped us at the entrance to the reservation. We paid our entrance fee, collected our gas masks and met our guide. He unenthusiastically explained the rules of the park, and started walking our way up to the crest of the volcano.

    The beginning of the so-called hike turned out to be more of a steep walk on a wide gravel road shared with hundreds of people. Locals would observe the tourists on the sidelines with pushcarts in hand, hoping to get a good fee for carrying tourists uphill.

    Within our group there was some pressure to keep a good pace in order to get a good view of the mysterious blue fire of Ijen before sunrise. Midway up, one of the girls in the group fell ill. We all stopped to give her some time to recover but a few metres further she felt bad once again, and clearly wasn't going to recover so soon. Her boyfriend just told the group to go ahead and that they would catch up as soon as possible. The guide stayed with them. I was expecting him to intervene, but he didn't say anything, letting us go alone even though it was against the rules he had explained less than an hour earlier. We stayed together and kept an eye on the recommendations given by the guides of the other groups. From time to time people would pass by being carried up in carts by the locals.

    Soon we reached the top of the crater. The view below was of the most alien place I've ever been to. Far in the distance, down at the centre of the crater, a lake saturated with sulfuric acid showed its wavy reflections amidst columns of volcanic gas that curled up to the sky wrapping everything in a grey smog. The pungent sulfuric smell could be felt scratching the back of the throat. From there, the way down followed a narrow rocky path, close to pitch black except for the people's dancing flashlights. It looked like the steps of Mordor on Christmas. Me and Vasco had to rely on our phones for a few hours until dawn. Our group followed other groups’ guide’s recommendations to wear our masks from this point forward, even though it was uncomfortable and made breathing difficult.

    It was equal parts impressive and sad to see the locals mining sulphur along the path. The tough small wiry Indonesians would carry the bright yellow-ish ore up the rocky path, on bamboo baskets hanging on their shoulders, with weights often rivalling their own. Most without masks, and a few sporting a cigarette in their mouths, as if the air didn't contain enough smoke. I wasn't surprised to find out later that they don't live long lives.

    The darkness and shadows slowed down the more cautious tourists who would often step aside to let us pass. Being without a guide and not having to stick to a big group had its advantages. Sometimes the narrow path made it too dangerous to overpass and we had no remedy other than going with everybody. When this happened I would always try to eavesdrop whatever the other guides were saying, just in case there was some death trap laying somewhere ahead.

    After a long time descending we finally arrived at the lake. It was famous for being deadly, with its high concentration of sulfuric acid and other substances from being atop a volcanic chimney. To my left I saw a good number of people surrounding something — the blue fire of ijen. Tube looking structures coming from the ground below, following the inclination up the crater for 3 or 4 metres. Along them, a blue fire burned with irregular intensity. Ijen looked like Mother Nature's stove.

    We arrived with a small fraction of the people we had left with, but at least we had managed to arrive before the masses. We took our time enjoying this strange phenomenon, it was a pity that despite our best efforts it didn't translate well to the camera.

    The way back up was a lot less pleasant. Dawn eventually helped, presenting us at the top with one of the most beautiful sun rises I have ever seen. Here and there we reunited with the lost group members and eventually our guide. Who took us on a walk along the crest where we got to enjoy a very different perspective of the lake and the crater.

    The walk back was a lot more relaxed. I could actually enjoy the company of the group, including a long talk about sustainability with a young Dutch couple, for example. Most of them joined us later in the ferry crossing from Java to Bali.
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  • Day 13

    Ubud, Bali — Chaotic Zen

    September 13, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C

    - Once we left the ferry in Bali we negotiated a car with a big group from our trip to the vulcanos to take us to Ubud
    - We found a nice hostel, incredibly cheap (less than 4 euros per night), and was quite nice. It was run by a family who lived in a humble building in the courtyard. The father was very friendly and help us multiple times with our plans.
    - rented us a scooter
    - organized our transport to the Gili islands
    - cleaned the pool so we could have a bath
    - and gave us recommendations of things to do and see. Specially restaurants.
    - We saw the monkey forest, where one of the monkeys jumped on my backpack and stuck his hand inside trying to catch food while I was taking a selfie. Resulting in my favorite selfie of all time.
    - We explored the rice fields and a few temples in the area
    - We took a very intense hot yoga class where I almost fainted
    - I went out to meet with a girl, and when I got to the bar she was talking with another guy that saw her alone and struck conversation. We ended up having a weird triple date in which I had a lot of fun. In the end she drove herself home in my rented scooter with me in the back ahah.
    - after a couple of nights we went to the Gili islands
    -
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  • Day 14

    Gili Trawangan — Scuba Party

    September 14, 2022 in Indonesia ⋅ 🌬 27 °C

    - The first day on this island we just explored and shopped around for scuba diving
    - the island is very pretty, with paradisiac beaches worthy of a postcard
    - we tried some sunbathing but it practice it wasn't as nice as expected. It was quite windy, and the sea had a bunch of algae. The water was super warm though.
    - after shopping around some more we finally decided to follow the recommendation of my date in Bali and take a scuba try dive at the Manta diving school. While Vasco went for the refresher course.
    - We started in the pool, learning a bunch of safety instructions like cleaning the mask underwater, and learning hand signals to communicate.
    - By the end of the first dive I was so impressed that I took the impulse decision of taking the full scuba diving open water course. And Vasco was happy to tag along.
    - The following days we took 2 dives a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and partied at night. It was such a fun time.
    - The last day of Vasco's vacation finally came to an end. We were kind of in a far away corner of the world and he had to start the laborious task of returning to Portugal. I took him to the ferry in Gili T. and bid him farewell.
    - It felt weird being left on my own after such an intensive trip with Vasco.
    - I then took on the exam, despite not having studied all the material as I should have. I told the this to the instructor, that maybe it would be better to postpone the exam to give me enough time to finish studying but he insisted I took it saying I would pass it without any issues. And I did!
    - I got to chill for the rest of the day.
    - At my hostel I became good friends with Candra (reads as chandra) who helped me organize a trip to Flores and multiple-day boat trip to Komodo island
    - That nigh I went out with a couple of girls I met at the hostel, Jo a mexican who brought along a german guy she was flirting with, and Nicole, a very nice Chillean girl with whom I was practicing my spanish. Candra also joined with a few more people from the hostel. We all went to Sama Sama, a reggae bar with live music.
    - We were having a ton of fun dacing to the live band until a sketchy indonesian groped Nicole's ass to which she responded violently
    - The guy didn't like her reaction but a bunch of people including me got in middle, so we just stand some 10 meters away staring at Nicole for a good half an hour like a sociopath. We didn't stay much longer.
    - When we returned Nicole was visibly shaken and didn't leave my side fearing some sort of retaliation for the public humiliation
    - We made it safely to the hostel where we stayed until very late talking about life and all kinds of things
    - In the next morning I left very early to start my solo adventure towards the Indonesian islands
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