Less Car, More Life

“Down the Spanish Coast, then Turn Right”

Spain has been on our bike touring list for years, but we hadn’t made it here yet. Lots of people ask us why not? First off, much of Spain is arid and sunny, two conditions Cheryl (and I) don’t really like in large doses. Second, bike touring routes and infrastructure are known to be better in Northern Europe, so it’s been hard to pass up easier trips (at least to plan) in Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, Chéchia, Italy; Germany, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia.

Last Spring we got so close to Spain, but some nice house sitting opportunities kept us on the French side of the Pyrenees. Finally, I’ve been working on redeveloping my high school French the past few years and didn’t have an interest in muddling my brain with my more recently learned Spanish again. Only one additional language Sim slot in this engineer’s brain!

Cheryl atop the Roman ruins at the Panissars Pass. Cheryl is ready for Spain!

The beautiful spring bloom near the French-Spanish Border.

But this year we were determined to give Spain a try and had a plan to ride the coast via Eurovelo 8 more or less to Barcelona and beyond. And if it started to get too arid or sunny for us, then we’d head up towards the mountains and green Basque Country instead. That’s the turn right.

Giving Cheryl a break pushing up the steep and rocky road after crossing the border. Is this really Eurovelo 8?!

At the bottom, someone appropriately added “MB-only!” Grafitti to the regional trail sign. A little too late for us, but luckily this hanging tube was not our fate.

Near the Spanish border, we opted for the quieter but hillier route into Spain over the Col de Panisares. Officially this seemed to be the Eurovelo 8 route on most maps and is also called the Pirinexus route, part of the Catalan greenway route network. The French side was paved, quiet, and delightful. But as always with bike touring, we were rewarded with some memorable views, and then punished on the Spanish side with more uphill kickers, steep rocky trails and unridable downhills. No cruising down into Spain.

Our first Spanish cycling underpass/drainage culvert. Not our last.

So our entry into Spain was a bit bumpy and we found ourselves at the somewhat grungy and noisy frontier town of La Jonquera at 5pm after just 50 hard earned kilometers. We didn’t have a reservation anywhere as I suspected the day needed flexibility, but there were no good options around. We’ve been without lodging before at 5pm, as it goes with booking on the fly cycle touring.

National Route 2 had a decent shoulder near Figueres. Sometimes you just want to get there!

Our hotel in Figueres old town. A bit of street construction meant no car traffic in front of our hotel and limited Saturday night bar noise -:)

So we decided to press onto Figueres on the main N-2 (II) road, as the official Pirinexus route had more dirt, hills, and would likely take us hours. We were both tired and a bit stressed, but knew this was just one of those days we just had to rally. To our pleasant surprise the N-II had a generous 6-foot shoulder the whole way to Figueres, and we made it there in less than an hour and a half, after a truck stop soda infusion. A shower and dinner at our atmospheric old town hotel and all was good.

Hotel Duran in Figueres is family run and had a classic vibe, a fine restaurant and even side rooms that were part museum of local life.

We set out the next morning after a brief stop outside the Dali museum. Salvador Dali was born in Figueres in 1904 and you can visit the large museum as well as the house where he was born.

Always fun to ride through the cobbled little streets. Catalan felt different than France.

Sunday bike touring days always surprise, such as this festival in Bàscara, complete with local Catalan dancing.

Although the dirt route was peaceful and had some nice natural beauty, I wished we had just taken the main road route up and over the pass. But again, I could find no info on the pass routes….not even a good blog. Maybe this blog will help people decide.

A random regional cycling route sign was appreciated, but better routes and signage everywhere would make this area more popular with people traveling by bicycle.

Ok, this train bridge still baffles this engineer; why are the webs of these precast beams on the top. It’s upside down, but I guess it works.

We soon figured out this part of Spain does not have as developed a bike touring culture. People ride for sport; roadies, gravel, and mountain bikers, but it seems a small number of long distance tourers. We met a few bike tourists along the coast, but most were Dutch, Belgian, or Canadian. (The French were notably absent.)

Finally some signage, helped by the overlap with some of the Camino de Santiago routes.

The first things that struck me in Spain was the lack of useful signage in this area. No map of the border pass cycle routes, a few town directional signs, and just a few randomly placed EV8 route signs. And never distances. Also, no indication how rocky and unsuitable parts of the Spanish side of this route are for loaded touring bikes. If you are riding into Spain on this coastal route, be ready for a significant decline in signage and infrastructure from France. Routes just end and this is the land of random, short cycleways to nowhere.

Peaceful cycling into Girona along the Ter River.

But Spain brought so much beauty and a completely different feel from France. Our trip has been perfectly timed for peak spring and the smell of blooming flowers, trees, and thick grasses abounded. The fresh Mediterranean Sea air filled our noses and coated us in a comfortable sheen of the promise of Spring and a new year. Forget the chaos of your home country.

The lively and beautiful arcades of Girona.

Watching the bikes go by at “Bagels and Beers” in Girona, which also has delicious “Burgels”.

We sort of happened upon the Medieval wall of Girona and couldn’t pass up following it along the city edge and University campus on our rest day.

Looking back at the Pyrenees from Girona.

Walking the wall offers a great overview of the city.

No trip to Girona is complete without visiting some of the famous road cycling stores, including “Eat Sleep Cycle” store and cafe.

The surprising Pont de les Peixateroes Velles, designed and built by Gutave Eiffel in 1876

Girona’s old town core is actually an ancient and vibrant Jewish Quarter known as “El Cell” occupied from the 12th Century until 1492, when the purge happened.

Spring light in Girona on the Onyar River

The next day we headed to Girona, a long time dream of mine due to its famous road cycling culture. The ride into Girona was nice on self-selected routes, but loaded touring bikes are an anamoly there, and we soon felt a little out of place as we rode into the main square heaving with people drinking, chatting, strolling, and shopping on a beautiful Sunday spring afternoon. Various kitted out roadies wizzed by and seemed unimpressed that we carrying all our gear for 3 months on our heavy duty human-powered transport machines.

Heading out of Girona to the south, we encountered a group road ride tour of foreign cyclists. They were focused on staying on their bikes, so we didn’t want to bother them. For us, just another day.

The roads outside Girona are popular with roadies for a reason.

How many famous cyclists have ridden this decent?

We had a nice little apartment to enjoy for two nights in Girona and it’s a beautiful place to explore and hang out. Mixing with the road scene heading out of town was a bit strange, as we’re used to seeing more cycle tourists, and it’s really popular with Americans, so funny to here so much familiar English after so many less visited places.

We were following the Via Marina for a while.

Cheryl in her latest high tech cycling gear: fuzzy pink Shetland wool sweater.

Soon we were at the Mediterranean coast via some more primitive rail underpasses/drainages. But the rare and heavy rains must go somewhere.

We started to realize that the EV8 on this stretch of coast would not be bike heaven.

Decent riding along some of the coast, but a little dull in places.

We mostly picnic, but today cobbled a pre lunch snack at a cafe despite it being 12:30…a challenge cycle touring is Spanish lunch is from 1:30-4pm.

The train line runs parallel to the sea along the coast north of Barcelona, making access between the sides challenging at times.

Morning departure from our fun all-inclusive hotel in Pineda Del Mar. They had just opened for the season and it was very good value. Fun to mix with holiday makers and get a nice cool swim in the pool.

Cheryl wondering if she was back in SoCal!

The promenades were lovely, but we could only imagine how welcome shade would be in the hot summers. We were already missing it in early April

The sea is beautiful along the Costa Brava.

But overall this stretch of EV8 is hit and miss.

Catalan architecture charms in the few old towns still left on this part of the coast between the sprawl

Our one night stay in Barcelona was pleasant at the Illunion Hotel in El Poblenou who kindly stored our bikes safely overnight.

We cycled towards the coast from Girona and spent two days meandering down to Barcelona. This stretch was not our favorite as the coastal sprawl felt a bit endless and the rail tracks make access between the coast and city sides challenging with loaded touring bikes as some access points are just stairs. But eventually we rolled into the northern neighborhood of Barcelona known as El Poblenou, which is also the core of the superblocks, which cleverly limit through traffic and prioritize pedestrian and bike movements. It was great and such a joy to cycle in most of Barcelona.

Morning school rush hour in El Poblenou meant an armada of kids, parents and bikes. Nice!

On our way south by the famous Sagrada Familia.

There are some beautiful bikeways in Barcelona, and very well used.

Fixing a flat is never fun. Really not fun on a busy road. Thankfully we were at the quarry turnout so had some space.

Cheryl ahead on a beautiful stretch of the C-31 from Garraf to Stiges. A rare shot without traffic as this road was almost constant cars and haul trucks to quarries. A shame.

Early dinner and drinks in charming Sitges. We still haven’t solved the mystery of a charming coastal spot with outdoor dining and no Gulls. Why are there no gulls here?

The April beach scene in Sitges. As we came into town folks were swimming.

Ok, another underpass to a trail on the oceanside of the tracks….nope, dead end at rock slope and tiny beach! Cheryl was thoroughly unamused.

Not the nicest stretch of Eurovelo and Cheryl not happy in a head wind and sunshine.

From Barcelona, we headed again out to the coast via the EV8, which is a nice route until past the airport, then forces you onto busier roads. It was a tough stretch as I had fixed a flat tire near the airport and then half way through the extremely busy coastal road from Garraf to Sitges, I felt my tire going soft again. Ugh! This time I really examined the tire and found the tiny glass shard culprit. This stretch would be ok on a fast road bike as the cars are very respectful, but on slow touring bikes, the constant traffic and haul trucks made it a somewhat teeth gritting experience. No pictures of the traffic as there are few places so stop and most is guardrailed.

Cool to discover The Torre Del Escorpions or “Scorpio’s Tower”, a funerary monument built by the Romans outside Tarragona in the 2nd century.

Our lovely view from our hotel in Tarragona

Tapas and Sangria in the main square of Tarragona. Set for Friday night people watching, Spanish style.

We were excited to see and moved by the solemn Semana Santa processions in Tarragona. We didn’t know at first why everyone was headed towards the Cathedral. We quickly figured it out.

The striking coastal Amphitheater of Roman Tarraco used to hold up to 12 thousand spectators until the decline of the empire 5th Century.

A big port for Mega-Yachts in Tarragona. The cannon isn’t really aimed at them? Is it?

Roman ruins = Feral Cats. This good looking kitty posed for us.

Cats also liked the real and just slightly gritty feel of the Part Alta, the historic core of Tarragona.

Colorful Tarragona Street Art. Cheryl snapped the pic before she actually read the words.

Orange blossom scents filled the air of Tarragona. So many orange trees as street trees.

Not a gentrified old town, Tarragona’s old city still is active with daily life.

The processions weaved through the city. We were in Tarragona for three nights and watched processions on two nights.

More crowds for the Semana Santa Procession. We felt lucky to witness this less touristy and more local version in Tarragona.

Real flames added to the drama as night finally falls.

The weight of the floats and human strength required to carry them was impressive. The folks carrying this heavy float marched in time and swayed in rhythm.

So after a really pleasant night in Sitges, we rolled onto Tarragona, where we spent three nice nights and rested prior to our turn inland. Tarragona is a small and ancient city with Roman ruins, a fascinating history, and great archeological museum by the old port. One of our favorite smaller museums with a great audio guide. It was also the start of the Semana Santa events, so we got to see two different nights of processions, each with a different vibe and purpose in the run up to Easter.

Finally leaving the pleasant and bike friendly Hotel Astari for the Tarragona train station. But where to next?

Oh, and some buttery Jamin Iberico on rolls.

We really liked exploring the layers of history in Tarragona for a few days. A bit of a hidden gem.

Where we’ve been so far on this Spanish Sojourn. It’s a big country. Each heart is a place where we slept.

Happy cycle tourists on the Spanish Mediterranean…at least for now.

Cycle touring days are like dog years.

Leaving the Vallée Verte, France, on a clear day.

Suddenly you look up and two weeks have gone by! But you think back and can’t believe it was only two weeks ago that we got on our bikes (March 31) and headed to the train station in Annemasse. A hop through Lyon to Avignon to spend the night, and then train to Béziers, and ride on to Narbonne. Phew. That sounds easier than it really is, which is why we spent two nights in Narbonne to get our bike touring mindset on.

Lyon’s wonderful bike lanes. Our long train transfer was between stations so we got to leisurely ride across town.

Rich’s American flag doing its job and attracting a chat from a local.

My panniers match the train. Although the high speed Ouigo train is not for us.

Our plan to get on our way was derailed by a long chat with another bike tourist, Martin from Holland.

Our plan was to use trains to get south and ride in Spain before the weather got hot. Neither of us are happy cycling in hot weather. We had been in Béziers on bikes before, but this time we’d ride out a different direction. After a good long chat with Martin who was also riding a Koga bicycle, it was time for a lunch stop.

Lunch in the shade alongside Le canal du Midi. We brought our little travel chairs with us this trip.

We decided to stay in Narbonne for two nights once we realized we’d be arriving quite late in the day, and it gave me an opportunity to have the brakes on my bike fixed.

Narbonne at dusk. Like a lot of French towns there is a focus on new public space, here a lovely newly redone stretch along the Canal de La Robine.

Narbonne Cathedral’s gargoyles. I would love to see these spouting water. But that would mean rain.

Canal de La Robine. The work on the canal side path is ongoing to the south.

The small black poodle being groomed inside this shop would certainly attest to the accolades on the sign.

The canal trail. This is going to be a lovely day on a champagne gravel (hat tip to Annie) trail.

Or will it? Blocked by fiber optic construction.

A 47 kilometer detour. Thankfully a local road cyclist stopped and told us the detour was a fine route, one he rides often.

So off we went, better know the marshes.

A bit windy. Was it a headwind or a tailwind? I can’t remember. (Kidding. It was a headwind.)

Lunch at the boules court in Bages and a chat with some locals. The flags doing their jobs again by drawing folks in and starting a conversation.

Still smiling. It’s chilly enough that my fuzzy pink sweater comes in handy.

Bicycle signage is quite good in France.

Peyriac de Mer, after a quick snack and map stop. Such a sweet street I stopped on an uphill climb to snap a pic.

Although he was technically closed for lunch the owner came out from his apartment behind the shop to sell us some much needed fruits and veggies and home made cookies. Sigean, still in France.

Out of Sigean the route climbed up a rocky pass. Definitely best suited to mountain bikes or gravel bikes, but here we go.

This look says ‘Yes, I did just fall in that mud puddle’. My rear pannier caught on a branch as I tried to skirt the edge of the puddle and I ended up in the puddle.

Ortleib panniers act like bumpers for the bike when you go over sideways. My bike and panniers were fine, I was very muddy with a few scratches on my left leg. Pride? Slightly wounded.

Still in France so the signage is still strong.

Headed down a very rocky route. Lots of walking the bikes.

Leaving Leucate where we spent the night and a bit of time de-mudding me and my gear.

Headed to Perpignan and our first good view of the snow capped Pyrenees mountains. Don’t worry, Rich says, we’ll have even closer views.

Getting closer to those mountains along a very nicely paved cycle path.

Are we riding or just always stopping to take photos?

Oh photos, definitely stopping for photos.

Perpignan. The French buildings and palm trees made me smile.

The Basse canal, an off shoot of La Têt River. Coming in to Perpignan from the north it didn’t look promising but once in the heart of town it’s charming.

Polite and obvious reminder of where your ciggy butts go.

The days are long, sunset at 8:30, so lovely long twilight light.

Oops – an entire bottle of red wine. And a lovely chat with a Swiss/Spanish couple. In light of what’s going on in the US some of our conversations have gotten more intense. Not confrontational, but intense.

Leaving Perpignan, next stop: Figueres, Spain. In the way: mountains.

Ok, next stop actually still in France. Brouilla. But it’s starting to look like Spain.

Through vineyards. That little orange speck is Rich. Who’s anxious to get to some mountain climbing? He is.

This low pass closes not for snow, but for risk of fires.

Unlike France, information on cycle touring routes was a bit spotty as we headed into Spain, but we headed up the pass optimistic about our new adventures coming in Spain. Stay tuned.

Singapore Swing

Sunday picnic time in Fort Canning Park.

Our last trip through Singapore was foiled by a Taylor Swift concert. We didn’t want to pay the expensive hotel room charges so we ended up just flying in, spending a day and flying out. A long layover. This trip we splashed out and stayed at a hotel that has probably caught the eye of many a visitor, the Parkroyal Collection Pickering. We were there for three nights on our way back to Europe.

It’s certainly eye catching with the lofty spaces and masses of greenery.

One office tower on the right, and two hotel blocks.

A view from the 5th floor where the gym, pool, and garden walk are. The pool was closed for maintenance, but a shuttle took us to the sister hotel 5 mins away to swim.

All the shade and plants kept the temperature down.

The shower was on a corner with a wraparound view.

The breakfast buffet – a little chocolate donut treat.

View from the swimming pool area of the other Parkroyal hotel. The famous Marina Bay Sands hotel in the background.

Hawker center lunch. Yes, I did splash broth on my nice new t-shirt. And yes, I did get it out.

This was on Sunday, so many folks enjoying lunch and buckets of beer.

We followed the signs to the tree tunnel to find an Instagram Tik Tok hoard.

All waiting for this shot. I do appreciate how collaborative folks are for their photos, all politely taking turns. But I still don’t really understand why.

Further down the tunnel- empty. I need some practice, this was much cuter on the young lady I stole the pose from.

The greenery in Singapore is impressive.

We missed this greenery and shade in Saigon. Singapore has been all in on greening since the 60s, and it shows.

The metro is good and the buses are easy and fast.

I so appreciate the shaded bus stops. All cities should have such comfortable bus stops.

The bike share system has bikes with child seats.

We didn’t see a lot of folks on bikes, the transit is very good, but I think bicycling has a lot of potential in Singapore.

Singapore does great messaging on the metro. How to get along on board.

One last sweaty hike on the new rail corridor path.

Who doesn’t love repurposed rail bridges?

At the old quarry – a Black Capped kingfisher. Look at that beak.

Our final lunch of soup dumplings before heading to the airport.

The Jewel at Changi Airport Singapore. The obligatory waterfall photo.

And back to France! Happy travelers with a great friend, Hannah.

It’s always a culture shock to leave Asia for Europe, and we’ve been feeling more fragile and worried about not only our country, the US, but the impact of recent political decisions in the US on the rest of the world. We know that people everywhere want similar things; peace, prosperity, the ability to live and raise a family, and have a home. Our standards for prosperity may differ around the world, but we all deserve the opportunity to have that peaceful home. That is feeling at risk right now. But we pedal on.

Next adventure- bike touring again in France and Spain.

Vietnam: Jungle to City.

Crocodile Lake in Cát Tiên National Park.

Square peg, round hole. That’s what we say to each other a lot when we’re in a hot and humid place where walking is tough and sweaty and the constant heat makes us cranky. We always need to get some physical activity. Long walks, a hotel gym, or hours of bicycle touring keeps us calm and sane. Without that we quickly become out of sorts. And in some countries it’s really hard for us to get enough exercise, and when one of us gets extra cranky about it, the other says “square peg, round hole”. But, in Vietnam our occasional query of why, why do we do this to ourselves is silenced when we get to experience a place like Cát Tiên National Park.

Monkey marks the spot. That’s Cát Tiên Park.

Our lodge host showing us where to catch our predawn ferry for the next days gibbon walk.

Cashew nuts. Vietnam is a big cashew grower and exporter.

Cát Tiên is not super popular with western tourists yet, but on weekends it explodes with Vietnamese up from Saigon to experience the countryside and jungle, and catch glimpses of gibbons, silver langurs, macaques, and crocodiles, and lounge by the river enjoying the wide open spaces while drinking beer and singing along to Karaoke. “It has an area of about 720 km² and protects one of the largest areas of lowland tropical forests left in Vietnam.”

Huge Tung tree in the park. During the American war this area was sprayed with agent orange exfoliant, but the large trees survived and the jungle has grown back.

Our lodge host explained that the park had gained some fame on Tik Tok recently, prompting loads more weekend visitors. It was great to see so many visitors, but we did find that our slightly expensive tours with park guides were mostly if not all western tourists since the prices were quite high for most local tourists. We are always game to spend money trying to spot wildlife since it supports conservation and provides jobs for locals, and, we are fine taking our chances seeing or not seeing wildlife. Our gibbon trek seemed to be going badly after a dark morning walk into the jungle and no sound from the gibbons who usually sing a pre-dawn chorus to each other.

The forest canopy as the sky grew lighter. Come on gibbons, where are you?

A German couple on our tour, we were all thrilled to actually spot gibbons. They came swinging through the trees.

A male gibbon. Males are black and the females are light brown.

Our guide making sure the giant hollow in the tung tree was snake free before letting us in.

There were bats inside, and a big spider.

On our walk back, a group of Taiwanese birders.

Back to the Green Hope Lodge to relax by the river.

A walk out for lunch and a cafe stop.
The small concrete street was lined with cashew and pomelo trees. Hot enough for Rich to use the shade puddle umbrella.

The dominance of local tourists meant there wasn’t much in the way of food variety in town. Our lodge served food, much the same fairly simple menu served by other lodges and hostels in the area, so even when we walked out to eat somewhere other than our lodge, the food was very similar. There was very little flavor in most of this local tourist variant of Vietnamese Food. We decided that the first place to expand to even a slightly western menu would be super successful. We were there for five nights and by day three we were craving some variety from the fried rice and noodles. A pizza or burger would have been a welcome change.

Out for a sunset river boat ride to look for birds and more monkeys. We seriously thought our boat driver was going to charge up these rapids! He faked us out and then did a photo shoot.

A Bee-eater keeping watch over their nest, which is a perfectly round hole in the riverbank.

Our boatman pivoted from fishing to taking visitors in boat tours. He also spends time picking trash out of the river and taking up abandoned fishing nets.

He was a pro. Helping us take photos, binoculars to borrow for bird watching, and feeding us pomelos as we looked for macaques – which we saw.

And he let Rich drive the boat for a little while.

The travelers to Vietnam who are motorbike or scooter competent or capable have a very different experience than those of us who aren’t comfortable driving a scooter, or who might feel uncomfortable as a scooter passenger. Scooters are the main form of transportation in Vietnam, with locals scootering literally everywhere. Why walk when you can scoot? Families of four, five, sometimes six or seven, all ride on one scooter. Dogs, shopping, all manner of goods are piled on. I do regret that we’re not scooter drivers, but I think that ship has sailed.

Our host insisted on giving us rides to the ferry dock one morning. It was a nice short distance for us to experience being passengers.

The ferry coming across the river to take us to the National Park.

And then another small boat took us to the island where the Primate Rescue Center was located. What a worthy organization. Most of the monkeys are rescued from the illegal pet trade and most can eventually be released back into the wild.

Rich was very happy to perch on a tiny chair and eat some more flavorful Pho for lunch at a small local restaurant.

It was a typical small local restaurant, with very good Pho.

We were charmed by the small streets and the local custom of evening strolls in the slightly cooler temperatures.

Friday and Saturday nights brought not only more visitors but weddings as well.

Canopies were set up to make more party space.

We were a bit worried about the noise as this party was quite close to our hotel, but the loud sound system was pointed away from us, and quieted down about 11pm.

In our constant quest for physical activity we borrowed bikes from the lodge to ride out and visit some local sites – including a cacao farm.

In the rural areas there are still locals on bikes, not everyone scooters. Yes, we’ve made that a verb now. Scootering.

I gave up and turned back to save my wrists from my ill fitting bike, but Rich pressed on and brought me back cocoa powder from the farm.

And another Pho lunch. These photos don’t capture the heat and humidity. The owners took pity on us and aimed a fan directly at our table.

We weren’t done trying to see wildlife so the next day we headed off for a hike to Crocodile Lake, to hopefully see crocodiles. Back to the ferry dock, a 20 minute ride in a truck to the trail head, and a 5 kilometer hike to the lake. We got going early since you have a better chance seeing crocodiles early in the day.

I must have said “No more jungle hikes!” at least twenty times in Vietnam- and here I am on another jungle hike!

We thought we’d seen big trees already, but this 400 year old Tung was stunning. It’s nicknamed the Thunder Lizard.

Our hike out to the lake felt fast as we had met up with a young Canadian cycle tourist and we chatted the whole way. She had flown into Saigon from New Zealand, bought a bike, and started pedaling. Much cycle touring chat ensued. When we got to the ranger lodge at the lake I waved at the three workers on the boardwalk to the dock and they gestured to come down and yelled “crocodile!”. We hustled down.

It was a bit unclear how the crocodile ended up with an oar on him, but the ranger needed it back before he could head out on the boat to drop the other two off across the lake.

Why are you wearing an oar, Mr. Crocodile?

I guess he finally got tired of us exclaiming over him and headed back into the lake.

With Alison, the intrepid cycle tourist. We were all very happy to have seen a crocodile. There was one more small crocodile sunning by the lake but the big one was the hit of the day.

Alison headed out to where her bike was parked and we relaxed and bird watched for a little while.

Siamese Crocodiles had disappeared from the lake and were successfully reintroduced in 2002.

Ferry back to the other side of the Dong Nai River.

And a very welcome iced coffee at a cafe just up from where the ferry docks.

And Allison showed up! She had a problem with loose handlebars and had no Allen wrench. The cafe owner told her to wait, he hopped on his scooter and was back in five minutes with an Allen wrench to fix her handlebars. The Vietnamese are so nice. Maybe not super friendly right off the bat but helpful.

And she’s off again! I loved her intrepid spirit. Not sure I could handle the heat cycle touring in Vietnam. She was looking forward to getting to cooler northern areas. That’s the bike she bought for $200 in Saigon when she landed.

Our time at Cát Tiên was ending, a car and driver took us on the 3 hour drive to our hotel in Saigon, the Park Hyatt Saigon, where we were really looking forward to the gym and swimming pool. We like to mix it up when we travel. A basic but comfortable room at a lodge and then a fancy city hotel. Simple food in the countryside and then anything you could want in Saigon.

Including a pretty strong craft beer scene.

Hồ Chí Minh City People’s Committee building. With a statue of Hồ Chí Minh in front.

Fantastic dinner at The Old Compass Cafe and Bar. Tucked down an alley and up a narrow staircase.

Handling the heat and crowded streets is still tough in Saigon. No one calls it a walkers paradise, that’s for sure. Our schedule was pretty set with a morning swim, breakfast, excursion and lunch out, then retreat to the hotel to relax, cool down, gym and swim, and then out again for dinner.

Lots of ducking in to cafes to cool down and relax.

Always pick a cafe on a quiet side street.

It looks like it takes nerves of steel to ride in Saigon.

We don’t have nerves of steel so we opted for a tour through XO Tours.

First stop, a 24 hour street market where we could finally learn the names of some of the fruits we’d been eating.

Such amazing selection of fruits and vegetables. Just watch out for folks shopping by scooter.

Dinner stop with delicious food and fun company.

It was only us and two sweet young Australian guys, and the all female tour drivers were so much fun.

The restaurant was in the ground floor apartment of the building where Hong, the woman at the head of the table and one of the company’s founders, grew up.

The French and American built apartment blocks in district 10 are a fascinating bit of real live history. Still full of families and shops on the ground floor.

A living space carved out of an unused bit, and Hong’s auntie who had stopped by for a visit.

Hello Auntie! The building behind us is the new high rise version of public built housing. Newly built but not as well built according to the locals.

Definitely higher density, but lacking the community feel of the old blocks.

The ground floor apartments are more expensive since you can run a restaurant out front. The old apartment blocks are called vertical villages.

Riding around Saigon at night on the back of a scooter is amazing. A bit nerve wracking, but the ladies are so skilled at handling traffic and nervous visitors, all while pointing out sites and explaining Vietnamese life. After the dinner stop Hong took us up to the third floor apartment where she grew up with 15 or so other family members, and where her Uncle still lives.

The water towers which used to be the water supply. The leaking water was a draw for the neighborhood children.

Every bit of spare space housed someone. This open air dwelling was at the foot of the staircase.

One of the hallways. Every apartment we went by folks inside called out hello and waved.

Hong’s Uncle in the apartment which so many family members shared. The ladder behind Rich led to an attic space where a family slept.

Looking across at another vertical village.

Hong explained that the people living here always shared the space available. Families moved in to whatever space was livable, and some we western visitors wouldn’t believe was livable. The former trash room? Now an apartment. The final landing on the stairs? Someone’s living space. But we were greeted with smiles and waves. Hong explained that residents were glad that visitors took the time to come to District 10 and see how they lived instead of just staying in wealthy District 1, where our hotel was.

Our drivers waving back to us as we peered over the hallway railings

Dessert drinks on our final stop after a scooter ride through the flower market. Tamarind peanut on the left, and coconut and lemon grass jelly.

And almost at the end of a unique and moving experience.

One last photo of us all pretending to ride one scooter, true Vietnamese style.

It was jarring to return to our fancy hotel, and sobering to think about the road Vietnam has traveled.

Of course we had to celebrate Saigon’s newest step forward- Metro Line 1, opened in December 2024.

Already popular, and with five more lines planned and under construction sure to be a success.

Already an Instagram Tik Tok photo shoot location.

This line quickly goes above ground as it heads out of downtown, a fun sightseeing ride.

Thảo Điền station. A popular ex-pat and foreign worker area.

On our last full day, a walk around the river.

Our last visit to Saigon was nearly 20 years ago. It is unrecognizable.

But still the traditional fishing goes on.

It was a good reminder that a country can be torn apart, face horrific destruction, pit citizen against citizen, and come out the other side and rebuild.

The Happy Travelers looking forward to an extensive Saigon Metro System.

Cooling Down in Dalat

Sometimes you need to just chill. With fresh memories of Flores, Indonesia we made our way to Dalat, Vietnam, with two single night layovers back in Bali and Ho Chi Minh City. A slow flight itinerary reduced the risk of a missed connection and meant we could enjoy a few nights of assimilation at modest corporate “airport” hotels with gyms and pools. Slow travels.

These travelers happy to be up in the cool climate of Dalat; at least for a bit.

We often get asked where we are going from other travelers and our responses often puzzle people a bit because we move slower than many and when you are nomadic, your needs and desire from travel merge with your needs and desires for general life. You need to back off the travel accelerator a bit and coast more from time to time. Flores, Indonesia was fantastic, but pretty demanding and we were moving frequently since landing in Taipei over a month ago. Our time home in the US was also a bit hectic, with lots of moving about.

Traditional ways are still embedded in the fabric of Dalat, despite so many new hotels and development. And agriculture is still key.

For example, we decided to spend 17 days in Southern Vietnam visiting just three places, starting with a week in Dalat (or Da Lat). In a normal Vietnam vacation, people might visit 5-10 places, this was also our third visit since 2007, so we didn’t feel the need to spread ourselves too thin. The country is huge, and there is still so much we haven’t seen.

Our home for the week was in the heart of the city on a network of hilly alleys.

Our comfy studio space at Feliz Homestay

We loved the view and lively energy of the car free alley we looked out onto. And mostly scooter free.

We had read a lot about Dalat as a favorite with other nomads and expats. But the draw for us really was finding a place to enjoy Southern Vietnam amidst cooler temperatures. After 18 days in Indonesia’s heat, the “City of Eternal Spring” sounded like a solution. And a place with enough to do and explore for a week.

What else do you do on a week apartment stay? Visit the local Go! Hypermarket.

Durians were specifically banned in our building but certainly available.

DaLat sits at over 1500m (4900 ft) on the Lam Vien Plateau of the Southern Highlands. It’s surrounded by hills and small mountains and has over 250,000 people in the city and over 650,00 regionally spread out from a fairly dense core. Like so many places in Vietnam, it’s seen tremendous growth and somewhat haphazard development over the past 30 years and many here say it has lost its soul. We could certainly see the development and growth, but it’s still an eminently pleasant place.

Mandatory stop at any bicycle themed coffee shop.

“Little plastic chair Street” (our name) was a scene and packed on the weekends with regional tourists.

The main roads in the center are closed to traffic on Saturday and Sunday nights, so it turns into a giant street gathering with vendors, food, themed mascots, and a cacophony of music and sound.

Cheryl enjoying the quirkyness and people watching on car free weekend nights in Dalat.

A week in Dalat meant we could really relax and explore.

And yes, civilization and tourists means a fantastic pizza feast at Primavera Italian Restaurant. And my first real red wine in months.

The historic Da Lat train station is a charming Art Deco legacy of the French occupation and footprint on the region.

They are advancing restoration plans for the entire 84km train line from Da Lat to Thap Cham where it will join the North-South main line. It ceased operations in 1973 when local fighting during the American War got intense. The restoration would be awesome.

Warm up sax on the train platform while boarding. Nice.

But for now you can enjoy a slow 7km ride to Trai Mat. It was a fun ride, especially when the music started shortly after departure.

And then the dancing! Amazing energy on the 9:55am train.

Enjoying the views and gardens from the train.

Lots of greenhouses and agriculture in the area. Da Lat is a huge supplier of year round produce, flowers, tea, and wine.

Vietnam National Railways actually runs the tourist train too, so they will be ready if the entire line is reopened and regular passengers service starts up again. Maybe less dancing and music though?

Cheryl and I got the last two seats on the train and were sitting at opposite ends. Luckily, she could spot me in the crowd.

Perhaps it’s not the charming place of yesteryear, but it still offers a lot to the visitor. We felt like if you spent a day or two in Dalat, you might easily miss the charm beneath the bustling main streets. More upscale restaurants, coffee houses, and craft beer is often a sign of the apocalypse, but for us, they were also somewhat welcome. Also, it’s a huge destination for Vietnamese tourists, so mixing in with that scene is always fun; and often more interesting than a place full of foreigners. What do striving middle class Saigonese like to do on their weekend getaways to hills and mountains? Eat, drink coffee, and take lots of selfies.

How to make more of a day of a 30 minute train ride? A temple visit followed by a 7km walk back to town of course. The pine tree forest and areas around Da Lat were actually very pleasant despite this bleak stretch of road.

Loaded up with lime, peppers, and assorted greens.

Classic local Pho Bo with all the fixings. It was the best we had so far on this trip to Vietnam.

After our noodle bowl top up, we were very surprised to hear sirens screaming by and leading a women’s bike race through town. Da Lat’s temperate climate and hilly terrain makes it ideal for cycling and training.

Off the main road on a bit of a single track adventure back to Da Lat. Cheryl being a trooper amidst my randoneering with the limited maps of Maps.me

As we got back closer to Da Lat, we were rewarded with some of the local development architecture. Not our style. There are dozens of much larger hotel projects sprouting up all around the city.

The temperature in Dalat was perfect for exploring, with peak temperatures of about 72-78F during our stay and lovely evenings that even required pants and a second layer. We also met some interesting people, including a nice couple from Davis, CA who were in Dalat for three months on her work assignment. (Hi Lori & Pete!) It was great to relax over drinks and food with some fellow Californians and get their insights from their extended experience in Vietnam.

The main market in Dalat is lively; but mostly focuses on selling flowers fruits, confections, and regional specialties. Oh, and endless supplies of cold weather gear, in case you need a thick down jacket when the temperature dips to 60 -;).

One of 100 stalls all selling the same thing? The peak local tourist season must fuel the business as it was slow when we visited in early March.

We couldn’t resist this charming place in our alley.

Dalat pork meatballs and Bahn Khao (egg custard pancakes).

The lively commercial corridor of Phan Đình Phùng just below our guest house alley. Dalat has decent sidewalks and the scooters seem to be making more of an effort to keep some space clear. Got our $4/month SIM cards here too -:)

This busy street also had our favorite local wonton and pork noodle joint, Tiệm Mì Tàu Cao

Although quite walkable, door to door scooter life is still the norm here.

Enjoying cool drinks and cool breezes at the classic Thuy Ta Cafe on the lake.

Another cool coffee house H.OG after our . morning walk and visit to the Crazy House (which is worth a short visit).

A hip coffee house (or two) a day was what the doctor ordered in Dalat.

Our good Vietnamese-American friend from San Francisco (Hi Dan!) thought Dalat was a bit ordinary and reminded him of parts of Northern California. We agree with that, it’s certainly not the most captivating or unique place in Vietnam, but it is an eminently pleasant place to hang out and explore. The hills, valleys, and alleys are fun to wander. And it is the new Vietnam in all its glory, for better or worse. Oh, and we did love the climate!

Sunday is a big wedding day around Dalat as we noticed starting another day of exploration around the lake on foot.

As we left the lake to explore the hills, this little guy joined us and seemed to be looking for some companionship.

We did not encourage him, but he was relentlessly dedicated. He was also mellow and seemed sweet natured.

Cheryl named him « Teller« after the silent member of the entertainment duo « Penn & Teller » since he disappeared often, only to reappear suddenly at your side!

One of walk destinations was a bunch of semi abandoned, semi-restored French colonial villas. They were a popular photo shoot spot for wedding parties. Teller liked them too.

We briefly looked at this large development in progress and thought we finally lost our little buddy. Nope, here he comes.

So we ducked into a fairly fancy coffee house in this upscale neighborhood and thought Teller would give up and maybe wouldn’t be allowed inside the mostly enclosed space.

Nope. Teller made himself at home and got a well needed rest! The restaurant owners all seemed to assume he was just our dog and paid us no mind.

So well sugared and caffeinated again, we all continued our doggy adventure and soon crossed the tracks to the next neighborhood.

Not so fast was the clear message from this pack of dogs that grew to about 12 or more! Alas, Teller’s adventure with us was over. We made it onwards, he did not.

More alleys to explore, but already missing our friend.

And finding out way home amidst the secret spaces, flowers, and gardens

Always coffee available, even from cute bicycles.

But in addition to the hidden alleys and hills of Dalat, which arguably take some sleuthing (and Maps.me) to find, Dalat is surrounded by hills, trees, and even larger national parks further afield. The challenge for the foreign visitor is finding places that you can actually hike or walk. There are really no published trail maps or networks…private and public land is vague, and access is often restricted. The locals are not really into hiking or even walking for recreation or transportation. A scooter always seems like a smarter solution. But we managed and it was certainly safe enough to walk places, even if sidewalks and road crossings were often a challenge. so we stuck to curated paths, like Dalatana Falls, or just exploring closer to the city center.

Next up, a visit to Datanla Falls, which you can visit by a long alpine slide.

The three parts of then falls spread up stairs and walkways and are quite impressive although it is all certainly feels a bit manicured and curated.

My intensity is visible on the alpine slide as I was trying to reach maximum speed. (But not crash into Cheryl in front of me)

As you reach the upper falls, there is even more kitsch and Instagram spots.

Our next stop after the alpine slide and falls via another Grab car ride was the Dalat City Flower Gardens.

Yup, you could crawl in the rear of Dumbo?!

The waiting area for a simple car shuttle ride halfway up the mountain. About $7 total each. You have to wait for 6 people which took us nearly 45 minutes as other tour groups loaded up and went. It’s a stupid system and not independent tourist friendly.

Cheryl captured my frustration as we finally heard up to our hiking start point. Way too long a wait and too expensive. Next time we’d hike up the whole way. Everyone else was going to the other lower Radar Dish summit for pics and snacks. We wanted to hike!

It was a nice hike from the drop off point. And then the peak looks so close.

I noticed distance signs seemed to vary widely in accuracy, and a guide we were chatting with on top of the mountain later confirmed!

It gets really steep, so there are ropes to help you up and down. The last 500m would be very tricky in any rain as the surface is clayey and slick.

I couldn’t resist a sweaty fast climb to the top, so reached the top of Lang Biang’s 2,167m (7,100ft) a bit before Cheryl.

We hiked all the way down the mountain through the lower pine forests as the shuttle cars won’t pick you up part way down the mountain. (Because a stupid system!)

We made it! The happy hikers at the scruffy top of Lang Biang.

Was a week in Dalat a good choice? We think so, but it really depends on what you are looking for. Next stop, the serious jungle!

Sabolon Besar – Pirate Island Resort.

On our second night in Maumere a Portuguese/German couple who had just finished a weeks long motorbike trip on the islands of Indonesia told us that they were headed to Pirate Island for 7 nights, as a final destination and ultimate relaxation to finish their trip. Pirate what what, now? We decided we’d go too, and we would get to meet up with them, Merrick and Isabelle, again. It’s nice to be able to share tips and gather advice from other travelers.

Fabian, from Germany, also headed out to the Island. He was at our hotel in Labuan Bajo, Cool Breezes, so we all walked over to the Pirate office together to board the boat.

Leaving Labuan Bajo harbor, and ready to settle into the island vibe. Aaarrggh!

Pirate Island is like summer camp for adults. You buy a package for all meals, there is no air conditioning or hot water, and you have snorkel gear waiting at your glamping tent for you. They also arrange scuba dives. Your tent has a fan, and when we stayed you could turn it on all day and night, but since the island is only powered by solar, in the busy season we read that the fans and the electricity may not be available all day. We brought headlamps which meant we didn’t need to turn on the overhead lights in our tent if we didn’t want to.

Leaving LB and admiring the mountains of Flores Island.

After a boat ride of a little less than an hour we arrive. Welcome to Pirate Island.

Rich and I are just the age to keep making allusions to and jokes about Fantasy Island, Survivor, and White Lotus.

The boat which arrives once a day bringing new guests.

It’s a shallow water disembark. The lovely staff bring your luggage and shoes off the boat for you.

You start your stay with a welcome drink and an orientation by staff. There is a map to show the snorkeling area, and a red or white flag for when you can snorkel from the beach (white flag high tide), or when you should walk out the jetty (red flag low tide.) Then the lunch buffet (you preorder your choice of main), and check in to your tent.

Our tent. Rich chose sunrise beach, so we got morning sun and then nice deep shade in the afternoon. Our own private bathroom.

Our first night of two had the most dramatic sunset.

Even the staff were out taking golden sunset light photos.

A few people watched the sun set from the jetty.

The open air dining and hang out spaces were comfortable and had fans blowing a breeze. We had dinner at tables with other folks, but there were plenty of tables at which couples could be by themselves. Did I mention that Pirate Island is adults only? No guests under the age of 16.

Sunrise from our bed. There is a mosquito net. If you prefer not to be woken by the sunrise you would lower the tent flaps, but then you wouldn’t get the nice ocean breezes at night.

We let the sun wake us for a six am swim.

Coffee and tea are available from about 6:30 am to 9 pm.

Super clear water, this is taken from the jetty.

The resort is working to protect and restore the coral reefs. Indonesia suffers from dynamite fishing. Apparently still a challenge to stop. When you snorkel you can see the newly started coral on wire frames. We always like to support tourism that celebrates natural beauty and wildlife as a way of preserving it.

Baby black tipped reef sharks cruising the shallows.

At low tide you start your snorkel by jumping from the jetty. I would have preferred a ladder but it got the job done.

Rich went first, I tossed his gear, waited, and then tossed my gear and jumped. Ok, it wasn’t that fast. I had to psyche myself up a bit to jump.

The snorkeling was fantastic, especially at higher tides when you could pass over the entire protected coral area. Massive schools of fish all around and a huge variety of colorful species. Not to mention turtles and sharks.

One of the smaller tents, more budget friendly and using shared bathrooms.

All the staff wore cute blue striped shirts and were super helpful and friendly.

From 7-9pm each evening was either a movie or a bonfire sing-along with a talented staff guitar player. Seriously like summer camp for adults. It’s always interesting what songs a diverse age and nationality crowd all know. Bob Marley. Yes. Fiona Hill. Yes. Local Indonesia songs, no but so fun to hear.

The resident cat, named Grande. Waking from his afternoon nap.

Not to be confused with his morning nap.

Our final morning Rich climbed the hill.

The climb up a rocky trail got him a good view.

The sun came out. Ready for another swim. It was hot and humid.

Goodbye Pirate Island, two nights was perfect for us.

Crossing Flores Island at 30 mph.

Coffee break at a Café overlooking rice fields.

Being driven around is not our ideal way to travel. But Flores Island, with its one National Road and many smaller off shoot roads to attractions and villages, has only a few motor driven options. Scooters are obviously the first choice among locals, but we’re not scooter or motorcycle competent and these roads would be a bad place to learn or practice many folks told us. So, drivers and cars it was. Yes, there are buses, but with the bus trips you can’t stop and enjoy the view or take photos, and apparently they go as fast as they can which makes for a bumpy ride. Not good for anyone prone to motion sickness. We did spot a solo bike tourist but didn’t get to chat.

Indonesia is the world’s third largest rice producer.

Rainy season means plenty of water and so much green!

From Moni to our next overnight stay, Ende, the journey shows up on Google maps as 1 hour and 22 minutes driving time. With a few stops along the way to snap photos and have a coffee it was about 2 hours and 30 minutes. Our second driver, hired just for the day, was named Nopi, and he was a lovely calm driver. He got us to Ende in time for a late lunch.

A few of the twists and turns of the National Road. This keeps speed down for sure.

On the outskirts of Ende. The steep volcanic mountains are so dramatic.

Would we be able to handle days of being driven? We are so used to traveling on our own and at our own pace. Add in the heat at the stays near the coast and you have a recipe for cranky travelers who aren’t getting enough exercise.

Ende is a long volcanic slope of a town. 86f/30c isn’t too hot, but the 80% humidity gets you.

A cold drink in the shaded PariKoro Resto. This great lunch stop was only a 12 minute walk from our hotel.

Ende is not a good walking town. The sun and heat, the long slopes, and the noise from traffic and scooters combine for an unpleasant experience. Until Rich got us off the main roads with a little help from MapsMe.

These young women were practicing a dance and chased us down for photos.

And then I got a photo of the photographers.

The shady small streets were scooters and pedestrian only. The kids came out to wave hello.

After just one night in Ende we were picked up by our third and final driver, Nyoman, who would take us all the way back to Labuan Bajo over four more days of driving and stops for lunch and to see sights, and one two night stay in Bajawa.

A view from town of your friendly neighborhood volcano. Flores has numerous volcanoes, 14 of which are considered active.

First stop, the optical shop so Rich could get his reading glasses fixed.

A few things made the driving not just tolerable but fun. First was of course nice, safe, calm drivers. Second was saying no to air conditioning and just leaving the windows down. Our first driver started this practice, he asked if we would be ok with no AC. Well, we’ll try we said. What a difference it made to be able to see and be seen by the locals. With the tinted windows up they couldn’t see us, and we couldn’t make eye contact, wave and say hello. And we said hello or selamat pagi (good morning) a lot! The kids call out Bulay! when they see a foreigner, or yell Hello Mister! Traveling at 30mph or less because of the twisting roads we got to see a lot. And the experience of driving along seeing the locals and the amazing jungle was unlike any other trip we’ve made.

Lunch stop at Blue Stone Beach. I love my puddle of shade.

When dry the stones are not so blue, more gray.

Shade break and time for viewing dramatic clouds.

A view back towards Ende and some volcanoes.

The blue is most likely due to volcanic minerals such as sulphides and rock-forming feldspar. So thank you for that, volcanoes.

Still not blasé about volcanic mountains.

Nyoman asked if we wanted to stop by the Mangeruda Hot Springs, and although hot water didn’t sound too appealing we said yes. But first a stop at a huge regional market.

The weekly market was in full swing so Nyoman dropped us off and we walked through.

We only stayed on the primary street, but the market stretched back quite a way.

So many greens for sale. Without our driver as a guide we didn’t feel as welcomed at this market. We made one pass through and headed on.

Mangeruda Hot Springs and Rich heating up. Thank you again volcanoes.

Rich says the water was about 95-100f/35-37c.

There was also a big, deeper and cooler pool, with rather sharp stones in the bottom.

After Rich had a good soak and I took photos we headed to Bajawa, where we had a two night stay booked at the Bajawa Roo Hotel. Bajawa was our favorite stop on the drive across Flores. Part of that was the town, it was cool at 3,900 feet/1,200 m above sea level – we got to wear our down jackets and long trousers – which made them not ridiculous to bring along. The Bajawa Roo Hotel was a fantastic travelers hotel run by a super friendly and helpful couple, Sri and Moses.

Rich and Martin, who was from Poland and a surfer.

We were happy to walk to dinner at a Chinese restaurant nearby. Nyoman offered to drive us to and from dinner but we always prefer a walk.

Bena Traditional Village was our first stop of our non travel day.

Kitty greeter. They look less than delighted to see us.

It can feel awkward to wander around the village, but the scarfs we are wearing show that we have registered and made a donation.

And I always buy something- this time it was traditional textile.

Nyoman showed us the trail to the next traditional village, Tololela. It was an hour walk through stunning jungle. We would meet up with Nyoman again after walking down the very steep road from Tololela.

The roads are in a constant state of repair, especially in rainy season. Hati hati translates as be careful!

A woman and a child carrying firewood back to the village.

It’s not easy to navigate the jungle with an umbrella. But I did.

So much intact jungle. Such steep slopes.

Rich added for scale. The bamboo plants were massive.

Tololela Village. Again, you stop by the first building on the right and make a donation. It helps the villages stay viable in these modern times.

Deep overhangs for shade and rain protection.

Wood carvings. I’m not sure why a horse, we didn’t see any.

I was glad that we visited both villages, they had different feelings to them, and I noticed more details at the second village.

A chicken strutting past drying candlenuts. The sun was so hot we could hear the nuts sizzling. The nut is used in cooking, and the oil for hair products or illumination.

We headed down the very very steep road, marveling at the scooters taking the sharp turns loaded with several people, met up with Nyoman, and headed back up the mountains for a view restaurant for lunch.

Volcano view at Heaven’s Door Bar & Restaurant.

Rich finally got to try the smoked barbecued pork.

Dinner with a fellow traveler, Ramon from Catalonia.

But first a walk into town. Must navigate puppy lane without scooping one up.

Bajawa was setting up for a festival and folks were using the walking track in the park.

A Catholic Church and a Muslim Mosque across the street from each other. Ramadan was starting in a few days.

Nyoman and I stayed in the car while Rich snapped photos.

When you look at the route, the twists and turns, it’s really amazing this road exists. And it does suffer from land slides and fallen trees, but it’s the one cross island connection, so when it’s blocked there is a fast effort to reopen it.

Our first stop on this almost four hour drive was a Moke home distillery. An alcoholic beverage made from palm tree fruits.

A rather simple distillery after the harvesting of the sap from the fruits.

The tasting room. Left is the clear very high proof Moke, middle is the same but flavored with spices and sugar, and right is the thick sap condensed down to sugars.

The owner and distiller. We are on the coast again and it was hot.

Her retail stand on the side of the road.

The drivers always know the good lunch stops. Tuna steak, veggies, fries and plenty of sambal.

Passed by a local bus. There were usually a few guys riding on the top, and some poultry hanging from the back rack.

One night Ruteng at the Ara Garden Inn, 1,100 m, 3,800 ft elevation meant the jackets came out again.

An early breakfast so we could get on the road – one final day of driving!

A stop at the lingko (circle) rice fields and Rich with our two little guides, 12 and 14 years old. Similar to the traditional villages you make a donation and then are guided up to the viewpoint.

Sheno and Clifford explained that the villages which share the field originally each had a pie shaped plot, divided further by families – which makes a spiderweb formation.

The National Road has good asphalt, and is shared with a lot of scooters, some cars, and big trucks hauling manufactured goods from other islands and mostly agricultural goods from Flores.

From Ruteng to Labuan Bajo the road climbs over passes and down to the coast twice. The difference in heat is very noticeable. When we finally reached Labuan Bajo Nyoman even shook his head and said “So hot.” He is from Moni which is at 700m/2,200 feet so a bit cooler than the coast. I was pleased to hear that even a local found the weather hot.

The happy travelers in Labuan Bajo again, after 8 days exploring the island.

Crossing the island at 30 mph (or so) was amazing. That is a slow enough speed to leave the windows down and not be wind blown. It’s the right speed to spot things and ask to stop. The jungle goes by slowly enough that you can marvel at the mix of trees and plants. See the cows grazing at the sides of the roads. Laugh at the dogs asleep in the middle of the road (drivers always carefully avoid the dogs). It may not be our favorite mode of travel, but for this trip our more car decision was the right one. Next up: Pirate Island!

And a map! Hearts are where we spent the night.

And a larger map. The hearts across Java are from a trip in 2017/2018. The blue dot is us in Dalat, Vietnam right now.

The Other Side of Flores Island, Indonesia

After being surprised by Labuan Bajo’s sidewalks and rapidly developing tourist infrastructure, we flew from Labuan Bajo to Maumere, a small city on the Northeast coast of Flores to start our cross island exploration.

Wuring, a traditional fishing village near Maumere

Cheryl arriving at Fransiskus Xaverius Seda Airport in Maumere; happy that our Wings Air turboprop made the journey today

We didn’t know exactly what to expect. Maumere is remote and there are only 3 flights a week between Labuan Bajo and Maumere on a Wings Air Turboprop. It was a bit risky itinerary as the flights are often delayed or cancelled in the rainy season, but we lucked out and had a scenic flight along Flores’ north coast. It was a fairly empty flight of locals and maybe 6 tourists. Flores in the rainy season is still a delightfully beautiful exotic experience, but maybe not the best for anyone on a tight schedule. These nomads are not on a tight schedule -:)

Wuring, or Fisherman’s Village is a predominantly Muslim community settled by notoriously tough sailors from the Bajo, Bugis and Buton tribes, and mostly from neighboring South Sulawesi.

Dried fish are a staple of a Flores diet.

The structures are almost all on stilts over the water off of two main spurs. We felt a bit awkward walking around as there were no other tourists anywhere. Of course people were friendly and gracious as they went about their daily business and we were definitely a curiosity.

Goats and scooters are other village essentials

We had an extremely friendly driver pick us up from the airport to one of a handful of tourist accommodations along the coast. Maumere proper is a still a work in progress and still recovering from the devastating 1992 earthquake and Tsunami that killed 2,500 people. The 7.8 earthquake damaged or destroyed many structures and was followed just six minutes later by a large tsunami that reflected off part of the coast and adjacent Babi island. Indonesia’s volcanic and seismic activity makes a lot of it a risky place to live, so the people have to be resilient and resourceful. In the Fisherman’s Village alone, a 10 foot (3m) high wave swept through the village in 1992 killing 100.

Our nice cabana at the Amrita Resort east of Maumere in the village of Waiara. It was small and we were the only people there the first night.

The beach in front of the Amrita is as also popular with the locals and was noticeably cleaner than adjacent areas. They are restoring the reef here and the snorkeling was enjoyable in the morning before the breezes came up.

A classic Indonesian lunch, Mie Goreng, Nasi Goreng, Cap Chay, and local Sambal
(Fried noodles and rice with chicken, mixed local vegetables, and spicy pepper/salsa)

I have to say, the Fisherman’s village and the Maumere central market were pretty astonishing. We have travelled a lot but were still surprised at the low level of development on Flores and the consistent base of rural subsistence living across the massive island. There is virtually no industry or manufacturing on the island and power outages are frequent. Untreated water is trucked to tanks. Processed food is rare, which is a good thing, as it’s the source of lots of waste and most of it we saw in small minimarts was junk food.

Entering the fish market in Maumere with our brilliant guide and driver for the day, Donatus

It was a bit later in the morning and not peak market day, but still a healthy supply of fresh catch and the ubiquitous dried fish

So much fish is dried to preserve and provide a reliable source of food when the fresh catch is lighter. This is likely tuna.

A wide choice of local vegetables. Nothing we ate in Flores was processed (except our well traveled Cliff Builders Bar!).

Donatus buying a few local specialties for us to try

Everything grows somewhere in Flores due to the elevation variations. These are banana flowers, used in a local dish.

And so many peppers for sambal variations.

The makings for Betel chewing; Areca nuts, slaked lime, and betel leaves.

Taro. The large roots are sold as pig food.

Flores had been off the radar to the government until the late 1990’s and the end of the Suharto era. There are complex political and religious dynamics in Indonesia that I won’t even pretend to understand but it is clear that the control and power for the country comes from its heart of Jakarta and Java. It is also key to understand that Flores is predominantly Catholic from the legacy of the Portuguese time of control, although they eventually ceded control of Flores to the Dutch, who officially held control until Indonesia’s independence in 1945. The island is now a mix of Catholics and Muslims, overlaid with traditional Melanesian cultures and beliefs.

Most transport on Flores is by scooter or shared rides. There are some small and medium size scheduled buses.

From the market, a delicious srikava fruit, also known as sugar apples; it kinda melts in your mouth.

The Flores Islanders are very proud (rightly so) of their peaceful coexistence. Our driver and guide from Maumere was Christian but very proud of the coexistence and acceptance, even pointing out small graveyards with alternating Christian and Islamic graves. We sensed no tension anywhere and apparently they celebrate and revel a bit in each others holidays. Flores really is a special place.

Donatus cracking some Candle nuts for us to try.

One of the two idyllic beach coves at Koka Beach.

Our stop here was midday and the UV was extreme, but that didn’t stop Cheryl.

Cacao trees and pods that give the beach its name.

À local girl is baffled by the pale woman under an umbrella.

Oh, but the water feels so nice in the oppressive heat of the Flores coast.

Grilled fish lunch near Koka Beach, a very pleasant and rustic affair.

The Trans-Flores Highway is never straight and winds its way up and down the islands rugged topography. Villages cling to hillsides.

Approaching the volcanic lakes of Mt. Kelimutu with anticipation.

First views of two of the lakes. No filters.

At the summit, I am calm and reflective.

Cheryl, on the other hand, is having her moment. We are the only ones here, which feels amazing.

By the time we get back down to the upper trailhead, more people show up, including these friendly nuns.

And another group posing in the parking area before their trip up to the lakes.

We decided to hike down the mountain 5 miles or so to Moni, and the first part was a steep but easy walk on the small road.

The lower part of the Mt Kelimutu Road is wide, graded shoulders were a popular and level spot for cattle grazing in the green rainy season.

Our next shortcut to Moni started off ok, but then turned steep, muddy, slippery, and overgrown in places.

This dog was wondering where we were headed?

Thanks to a mostly accurate gps track we eventually found our way and stayed on our feet (yes, umbrellas for their third and fourth purposes; walking sticks and snake clearing!).

Cheryl was not pleased with this « shortcut ».

Lots of random farming and gathering, including Taro.

We finally made it down to Murundao Waterfall,

Near the falls were two streams that were just raging a bit too much in the rainy season to cross by foot. Cheryl’s good balance made it standing across the loose and wonky bamboo. Full disclosure, I crawled across as my high center of gravity and fear of falling onto the rocks below got the best of me. You make different decisions when medical care is potentially very far away.

A pig living under tree roots. Safe for now.

Our rustic homestay in Moni, Jaya Hill Garden.

The lone ATM of Moni
(accidentally Wes Anderson).

We said goodbye to our great driver from Maumere and spent two nights in the small mountain town of Moni to explore and see Mount Kelimutu. It was great and thankfully a bit cooler at 1000m. Moni has a relaxed vibe and one of the great global travelers bar and restaurant called Mopi’s, run by some local Rastafarians. It was quiet this time of year, but we could imagine a different scene in the peak and dry June/ September season.

The endless jungles and mountains of Flores, so happy we decided to come here.

But we had a lot more of Flores to explore, so let’s get going!

Labuan Bajo. Come for the dragons, stay for the sidewalks.

In the taxi from the airport to our hotel in Labuan Bajo Rich looked out the window and said “Sidewalks. There are sidewalks.” If you’ve traveled in a developing country you will understand his surprise. Walking in a lot of places – India, Sri Lanka, Vietnam, Mexico – can be challenging for a multitude of reasons, lack of sidewalks being a big one. Or, big holes or incomplete sidewalks. And, places that do have sidewalks, like a lot of Thailand, will come with a lot of scooters and street stalls to block your way.

Sidewalk! Complete with tactile guidelines for visually impaired folks.

Labuan Bajo on Flores Island is one of the “Five New Balis” the Indonesian government has identified and put money into. Technically it’s called the Five Super Priority Destinations Program. The goal is to get travelers to visit other parts of Indonesia, not just Bali. And some of the money has gone into infrastructure. I can’t find when the sidewalks were built, but they have definitely been a good investment for locals and tourists. We picked our hotel because it’s close to the commercial area. We always prefer to walk to dinner and around town instead of taking taxis.

Sidewalks are so important for children. Walking and playing.

Children playing on the waterfront promenade. Recreational paving stones.

Some lovely views from the road leading up from town and to the airport.

So many boats and construction projects.

This is what we expected of the streets. All this walking is before 8 am.

We spent a day just exploring town and debating a trip out to Komodo Island to see the dragons. Our intent in coming to Flores Island was to explore the island, not specifically to see the dragons. Komodo Island is firmly on the tourist track and offers of trips to see the dragons, visit the pink sand beach and walk to the view spot on Padar Island are ubiquitous. Also, so many dive shops and folks offering live aboard boat trips.

The Indonesian government has a plan for periodic shutdowns of Komodo Island beginning in mid 2025 to not only to help the island regenerate, and hopefully to rewild the dragons, but also to encourage tourists to visit other sites and spread the tourist visits to more attractions. We read enough about dragons being fed (and possibly drugged?!?!) to keep them on the beach and easily visible to tourists to give us pause about visiting. At busy times of the year the scrums of folks getting dragon photos looks pretty awful. This isn’t the busy time of year since it’s the rainy season, but we still just couldn’t find the motivation to visit Komodo Island. Maybe on our way back through Labuan Bajo. Maybe.

An alley suitable only for scooters and pedestrians.

Kitty tenderizing a scooter seat. Handy scratching post!

Lots of cats out in the coolish morning air.

Street side stall. Colorful snacks whose wrappers sadly end up everywhere!

Farmers come down from the hills to sell good in town. There is a market street further up town but this farmer has a mobile market.

No egg shortage here. (The USA has an egg shortage due to avian flu.)

I arrived in Indonesia without an umbrella! Mistake corrected.

Lunch at a locals spot, Kantin Primkopal. Rich happy with the Ayam Goreng Sambal specialty.

And dinner out on the end of that pier, the fanciest spot in town.

Heading to the restaurant we saw turtles and had a good chat with some young Indonesian tourists.

Quite a lovely spot, Le Bajo Restaurant. One of three new higher end restaurants on the pier.

Best Waterside table, low season perk. What a place to watch the sun set.

And some local food – octopus! This restaurant is ready for the folks who will be coming to the new resorts being built.

So what did we do instead of a Komodo Island visit? Well, a big downside to Labuan Bajo is that there are almost zero beaches at which to swim. One public beach close to town is a bit of a mess with trash, and the only other close by beach has been privatized by a fancy new luxury collection Marriott resort. We want to spend our tourist dollars visiting attractions so we hired a driver for the day and headed out to visit two caves.

First up: Mirror Stone Cave, Gua Batu Cermin.

Our guide from the park. You need a guide to go in the caves. They are unlit and have no walkway once you are inside.

Not many photos from inside the caves. It was a muddy scramble complete with hardhats and headlamps (provided by the guide.).

Cave portrait thanks to our guide. Not pictured- many many bats!

Another locals spot thanks to our driver, we could watch the school kids pour out for lunch.

The food was good and I was surprised and delighted to find a bat in the toilet cubicle! They flew about a bit before settling down to keep me company.

After lunch we went to Rangko, the small village is the launching place to visit Rangko Cave. A cave with swimming.

The path to the beach complete with cute goats.

It’s pretty hot and the water looks so tempting.

Group photo! I like how effortlessly our boatman sat cross legged to drive.

A five minute walk to the entrance of Rangko Cave.

And into the seawater! Amazingly clear. You could hear the gurgle as fresh seawater entered the cave.

And a swim at the beach before we left. The water at the beach was warmer, not as refreshing.

The highs of Labuan Bajo were the sidewalks, the views, the two good restaurants we ate dinner at, Happy Banana and Le Bajo, in addition to the local lunch place. The lows were the lack of a swimming beach and the missing mid range small locally owned resorts which you find on Bali. Labuan Bajo had a few fancy expensive resorts (one of which had privatized a local beach), but Rich couldn’t find a good small resort. A swimming pool would have been nice since there was no beach access, but there is a water issue in town. All water is delivered by truck filling large tanks, and drinking water in 5 gal/18 liter bottles.

The water tank at our small 3 room hotel, The Blue Parrot. Once we learned about the water situation and saw this I immediately started taking shorter showers!

The happy travelers. Under our umbrella.

The Bali Conundrum

To go or not to go? As we planned our trip to Flores, Indonesia, we quickly figured out that we had to fly via Jakarta or Denpensar, Bali to get to Labuan Bajo. Bali made more sense as it is shorter flying from Taipei.

But after spending a week or so on Bali during our 2017-2018 « Java by train, ferry to Bali adventure » we vowed to stay away until the plastic problem was improving and development seemed a bit more sustainable. Bali is a tourism juggernaut, but is often cited as a global example of overdevelopment.

Balangan beach is a popular surfing beach, but pretty quiet landside this time of year. Bali tourism is still recovering from the pandemic, which devastated the islands’ economy as the airport was completely closed for an entire year! 6,000,000 tourists suddenly gone.

Rotating left from that photo, here is the backwater area. It’s hard to identify the area and exact source of the plastic pollution, but the problem is clear around the island.

During that trip, we spent time in Pemuteran (NW Coast), Ubud, and Padangbai. The ocean plastic problem here is somewhat seasonal as the rainy season (Nov-Mar) washes much more plastic into the sea from creeks, channels, and other areas. It swirls around the islands and is carried to sea and redeposited into coves and beaches. In 2018, along with some well intentioned Canadians and Aussies, we would spend some time picking up plastic after each high tide left a deep line of plastic debris. But we soon realized the futility of this exercise. And I still have nightmares of my arms stuck in a giant plastic bag and debris flotsam mess in Padangbai, while trying to snorkel at the Blue Lagoon Beach. If you’ve travelled across SE Asia, then you have certainly seen the same challenges in other countries.

Heading down to explore the beach, hoping for the best. Did we cause this and are we adding to this by being here?

So Bali, and much of the developing world, has a massive sanitation, disposal, and plastic problem. If you have been here and not noticed it, then you probably isolated yourself in 5-star resort grounds or have been lucky to be in a clean area during the dry season. And much of Bali is still charming and peaceful. We also generate a huge amount of waste in the US (we’re #1 baby!) but it is generally disposed of properly.

Surf beach funkiness and faded glory feel at Balangan

The infrastructure of Bali varies, but is certainly still developing. More economic development may lead to more opportunities and spending on the environment and sanitation.

So we decided to spend 3 nights here and assimilate a bit into the tropics after a lot of cold weather and moving about the US and UK. We found a lovely, locally run, small resort on a bluff above Balangan Beach. We know the traffic here is a nightmare, so we planned to just get here and relax with one trip from and to the airport. We walked to a few local restaurants as we could, but basically stayed put for a few days, which is rare for us. The walking is not great on the busy back roads and the maze of historical alleys and streets is generally disconnected and cutoff by development or geography, so taking a scooter or car even to go short distances is the norm in most areas.

The view of Balangan Beach from above Sunset Point. A reliable swell hits the reef and creates beautiful surfing conditions.

We did not want to add to the traffic as much as possible and also strived to minimize our single use plastic use. We almost never use plastic bottles in areas with safe drinking water. And if the tap water passes the sniff and flotsam test, we boil or use our UV SteriPen. The tap water may not always taste the best, but this treatment ensures we won’t get sick from any microbes. The water may still have some undesirable elements, but those generally won’t harm you in limited doses. And as Cheryl likes to say, it may make us stronger!

There are over 10,000 hotels, guest houses, and other lodging on Bali, and dozens just in the small Balangan area. Light traffic here as it’s at the end of the road.

But regardless of what little steps we take, just traveling here inevitably generates a lot plastic waste that may not be disposed of properly. And of course, so many broader impacts from flying and local transport. Sustainable development is so hard to get right, and even more challenging when the economic disparity between the locals and tourists is so great.

Dragon fruit muesli bowl and a banana pancake, a classic Bali visitors breakfast. Cows grazing peacefully in the distance. Plastic straws at our guest house not appreciated.

Jimmy Beach cafe is the place to go on Balangan, and we really appreciated the paper straws!

Very well-presented and delicious Avocado toast at the Jimmy Beach Cafe. Is Avocado toast the new travelers’ Banana Pancake?

Now I realize that the carbon generation of our travels are not helping the planet and that’s a bigger ethical question for all who get around by jet. But the plastic embedded everywhere here along roads, ditches, coasts, beaches, and forests is visible. And it’s terribly depressing, and we find it nearly impossible to enjoy ourselves in the midst of it. But it’s also symbolic of the overdevelopment and a government that maybe isn’t always looking out for the locals. Not as much free and happy local space left here.

Collected plastic bottles, we assume for reuse or disposal?

And coupled with the low standard of living and income disparity, we find the whole scene tough to swallow. It’s not that we don’t accept the income disparity, but here it feels like the locals have been pushed to the margins and lost a lot of what makes the area livable, all in the name of even more touristic development.

Every residence seems to double as a surf shop and travel agent, but very little business here in February.

Maybe Hawaii got it a bit more right by limiting new resort and tourist development expansion the past 30 years. That has made Hawaii an expensive place to travel, but most of the islands are pristine and many areas are protected. There is still the local/tourist tension there for sure, not to mention a legacy of cultural appropriation and displacement. OK, maybe Bhutan is getting it right.

The local Bali cattle are smaller, very tame, and resemble deer, especially when they are young. They are very effective at clearing local vegetation.

Cheryl above Balangan Beach. The grass is kept short by grazing cows.

But Bali is a large and complex island with over 4 million people, and 6 million annual visitors, with a huge variety of experiences and places. Indonesia is still a developing country of over 200 million people and tourism brings huge income and opportunities when applied correctly. It’s a lifeline and draws people from other islands to work. Indonesia is also embarking on its goal to spread the love and have higher end tourism in their “10 Balis » initiative. (More on that in our next post)

Dramatic sunsets and clouds from our balcony.

It’s beautiful here and charming, but we feel a bit out of place without our bicycles and a transit card in our hands.

So we are now off to East Nusa Tenggara or Flores Island as it’s better known for a few weeks of exploration. It’s certainly less developed than Bali and also one of the poorer regions of Indonesia with a vast array of cultures and religions. What will it feel like compared to Bali? Each Indonesian island is so different. Stay tuned.