Makassar to Rantepao

After leaving Dodo’s, Eddie drove me to the Bintang Prima bus station and bade me goodbye. There, I purchased a ticket for the 9am bus. The bus was large and it had recliner seats, which is a huge step upwards compared to most buses in Indonesia. While waiting, I saw the staff tinkering with the rear wheel well and I momentarily fretted about departing late, then I reminded myself: (1) this is Indonesia; and (2) the journey matters as much as the destination. The bus departed a few minutes late. On the manifest, handwritten next to my name was “(Bule)” (translation=Caucasian). Haha. I guess in this context I might as well be a white guy. The only other foreigners at the station were a Dutch couple.

Remember my saying that the journey matters as much as the destination? At one of the stops on the northern edge of Makassar, a bule boarded the bus and he was directed to sit next to me. He greeted me and I immediately knew he was American. What were the chances of that? Charlie had lived in Indonesia for four years and he had a furniture business in Bali and a coffee business in Toraja. He was on his way to Tana Toraja to take care of his coffee business. He was stoked to have a few hours of conversation in English with someone with a close cultural connection. A fellow expat like me, I could tell his views about pretty much everything had evolved, a natural consequence when your life straddles two worlds and things get complicated. He was excited and nervous about his upcoming trip to the States... I could sympathize with that. He was good company and he made a long journey pass faster.

The bus made a lunch stop at Pare Pare. The restaurant where we stopped offered a simple meal of rice, fried fish, and satay. I looked around helplessly for utensils, and then I saw Charlie and the locals starting to eat with their hands. Eating with my hands is a skill I never mastered, but I shrugged and did my best.

Before departing Makassar, I took one motion sickness pill. Up until lunch, the road had been flat, but I knew we would soon turn inland and go up some winding roads. Out of an abundance of caution, I took a second pill after lunch. Bad mistake. By 3pm, I was zoning, and trying valiantly to stay awake to enjoy the brilliant scenery and Charlie's company.

The bus rolled into Rantepao - the tourist center of Tana Toraja - around 8pm, a full 11 hours after departing Makassar. I was exhausted but I was cognizant enough to spot a sign for Pia’s Poppies, my hotel for the next three nights. It turned out to be a cute place, and an amazing bargain for the price I paid.

Other bloggers on this site had all reported that there were guides waiting for them when they arrived. I didn’t encounter any, but maybe that was because I disembarked from the bus before the usual stop in town where tourists disembark. So, while eating dinner at Pia's Poppies, I WhatsApped Dodo, and wow what a miracle worker this guy is. Within a few minutes, a guide named Ritha came looking for me and we negotiated a two day itinerary for a reasonable fee.

https://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Indonesia/Sulaw…

Charlie's Furniture Business: https://www.charliekodatt.com/
Charlie's Coffee Business: https://www.alukcoffee.com/Read more