Venture Travel magazine April 2013 (Back Issue)

BY TRAVELERS: FOR TRAVELERS

DOWN A COAL MINE SUMMER IN ICELAND TREKKING WITH TARSIERS CLIMBING ANAK KRAKATAU BETEL NUT WITH TRIBAL ROYALS taiwan iceland indonesia the comoros the philippines

APR | MAY 2013 Vol. 4 | No. 2 IDR 45.000

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CONTENTS

10 WILD ABOUT TRAVEL The best photos from our readers

22

ROYALLY STONED On rugged West Timor, Indonesia, Melanie Whitmarsh meets the betel-chewing king of Boti

14 FIRE AND ICELAND Tita Listyowardojo and Christopher Bach take the Golden Circle bus tour through the moonscapes, forests, and dramatic mountain scenes of Iceland

28 WRITING IN BALI $UD 3DCI@ ƥMCR HMROHQ@SHNM CTQHMF #NM George’s travel writing workshop at the Ubud Writer’s & Reader’s Festival in Bali, Indonesia

36 GEM IN A COAL SEAM: travels in West Sumatra

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Dutch author Emile Leushius explores the valleys, villages, and old coal mines of West Sumatra, Indonesia as part of his research into the province’s heritage Venture | Apr/May 2013

46

CLOUD COUP COUP LAND Tantalized by the unknown, British author Jason Smart encounters witchcraft, pirate tales, and beauty masks in the Comoros

CONTENTS

58 CHARMING MALAPASCUA Sara Schonhardt falls for the cockƥFGSHMF SGQDRGDQ RG@QJ B@QUHMF @MC underwater world of Malapascua in the Philippines

THE TANGKOKO TARSIER TRAIL

54

66 DISCOVERING THE ISLAND OF TAIWAN

Pramod Kanakath treks through the Tangkoko Nature Reserve in Sulawesi, Indonesia at night to spot one of the world’s smallest primates

Daan Vermeer cannot get enough of the gorges, temples, and street food of Taiwan

72 KRAKATOA Blending the past with the present, Lydia Tomkiw climbs Anak Krakatau – the child of legendary volcano Krakatoa, Indonesia

A RAMBLE ON THE OLLE

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90

Lost, burned, and thirsty, Tony Sugiarta’s ramble through Jeju Island, South Korea becomes a race to the airport

PERSONAL JOURNEY Extreme adventurer Mark Squirrell designs Australia’s ƥQRS RBDM@QHN A@RDC @CUDMSTQD challenge: the Global Frontline Challenge

84 LOMBOK SHUTTERBUG WEEKEND Venture joins photo enthusiasts for a weekend of photo hunting through Lombok, Indonesia

FOUNDER'SNOTE

Founder & CEO Richmond Blando Managing Editor Melanie Whitmarsh Art Director Juke Bachtiar Photographer Dennie Benedict

NOTHING BUT ISLANDS Welcome to Venture’s all-islands issue. Based in Indonesia, the world’s largest archipelago, encompassing around 17,000 islands, we are used to palm-fringed beaches, BNBNMTS SQDDR @MC SGD ƼRGHMF RBDMD !TS @R SGHR HRRTD RGNVR SGDQD HR E@Q LNQD SN CN NM @M island than snooze under a novel in the sand, and not all islands are paradise.

From the volcanic geysers of Iceland to impoverished Grande Comore and the thresher sharks of Malapascua, our writers describe locations which have little in common but that circumference of sea-water. We go trekking on the Jeju Olle, climb Anak Krakatau, and meet a king in West Timor. We delve deep into jungles searching ENQ SHMX S@QRHDQR FDS NƤ SGD AD@SDM SQ@BJ HM 6DRS 2TL@SQ@ RODMC @ MHFGS @S @ SDLOKD HM Taiwan, and hone our travel writing skills at the Ubud Writer’s & Reader’s Festival in Bali – an island often ranked among the best in the world.

With so much to inspire me, it’s frustrating to sometimes be struck with writer’s block when I face a deadline. Having writer’s block is like forgetting the keys to your luggage when you arrive at a hotel.

Writing is not easy, but I have learned that if I calm my mind and strive for a level of Zen, writing becomes easier. When riding along a very dusty road, you can either panic and ride blindly, or stop and wait for the dust to settle before continuing. By calming the mind, letting that dust settle, creativity has room to breathe; the mind’s ocean can ƌNV EQDDKX 6GDQD VHKK XNTQ HL@FHM@SHNM S@JD XNT Perhaps to one of these islands. So, sit back, relax, and take a trip around the world through these pages.

Happy travels, RICHMOND BLANDO | Founder & CEO

Cover: East Iceland by Topora/ Shutterstock

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For readers outside Indonesia, Venture is now available in digital form via the Scoop App: www.getscoop.com Venture | Apr/May 2013

Contributors Pramod Kanakath Emile Leushuis Tita A. Listyowardojo Sara Schonhardt Jason Smart Mark Squirrell Tony Sugiarta Eve Tedja Lydia Tomkiw Daan Vermeer Elizabeth White Administration Boedy Astuti Please send your story ideas and feedback to venture@venturetravelmag.com www.venturetravelmag.com

PT. YOGYA DINAMIKA MEDIA Duta Indah Square 3 No G 19 Teluk Gong Raya North Jakarta, Indonesia Tel: +62 21 5142 0137 Fax: +62 21 6667 8461

PT. NUSA BINTANG LESTARI Intiland Tower, 3rd Floor Jl. Jend. Sudirman 32 )@J@QS@ Ĺž (MCNMDRH@ Tel: +62 21 5790 1308 Fax: +62 21 5790 1312 www.boldprintspublishing.com

Teacher and travel writer PRAMOD KANAKATH (“The Tangkoko Tarsier Trail,” page 54) spent six years working in India and the MiddleEast before moving to Jakarta in 2005. His articles and photographs have appeared in The Guardian Weekly and on the BBC and CNN websites. www.penningprem.webs.com/apps/ blog

Dutch-born EMILE LEUSHUIS (“Travels in West Sumatra,” page 36) is passionate about Indonesia. For over 20 years, he has divided his time between Amsterdam, from where he runs a travel company specializing in tours through Indonesia, and his second home in Yogyakarta, Java. Emile is the author of Gids historische stadswandelingen Indonesië, a guidebook on historical Indonesian cities. www.antarin.net

VE ident E Bali-res Writing in (“ TEDJA ge 28) is a p ,” li SG@S Ba SN ƥMC @L@YDC is becoming g travelin a profession e f o more ovelty. Despit ly n e a m n a a n th ieties, $UD x n a w GSR a fe MC GDHF l ƦXHMF @ seeing Nepa n le o t ib s e is s pos earest , in the n writes, reads e v E , e g asid ).

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There’s dull m never a o Dutch ment with t and ph ravel writer o DAAN tographer VERME (“ ER Discov O@FD ering t %NQ Is la he n d of Ta doing ƥUD X D is iw featur traveling th @QR @KK GDŗR A an,” e wines s for magazine world mak DDM ing tra in Sou es. Fro v t Hong Kong, h Africa, to m blending el t o esting will do r hikin s g in th www.d the job. e Hima pas in aanver layas, meer.in he fo

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LYDIA TOMKIW (“Krakatoa,” page 72) is a journalist who most recently spent a year living and working in Jakarta, Indonesia on a Princeton in Asia fellowship. She is upping her tolerance to spicy food one spoonful of sambal at a time.

Follow her adventures on Twitter: @lydiatomkiw www.ltomkiw.wordpress.com

ITE ETH WH ELIZAB L@JDQ @MC

HR @ ƥKL apher based in the r photog K. She visited U p Bristol, (“Cloud Cou s Comoro nd,” page 46) " ! a Coup L HMF ENQ SGD ! , KL a VGHKD ƥ nknown Afric e ese U series, cumented th people of th o d ig d n b a h , ape whic h is a the lizabet , landsc wildlife ited islands. E documenting s is s v e e v c pla . d lo little ravel an ure of remote t f o n a f lt and cu people

CONTRIBUTORS

Jakarta-born TITA ALISSA LISTYOWARDOJO lived in China and the Netherlands before moving to Oslo, Norway.

She enjoys Baltic cuisine, the wonderful nature of Scandinavian countries, and meeting ODNOKD EQNL CHƤDQDMS backgrounds. Her article (“Fire and Iceland,” page 14) is accompanied by photographs

by CHRISTOPHER BACH, a German photographer also based in Oslo. www.bach-online.de

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FAW_Venture_185x255.pdf

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VENTUREREADER

Wild About Travel

10 Venture | Apr/May 2013

VENTUREREADER

Your travel photos

Street portraits taken near Xi’an Lu, Dalian Dalian, China

Photographed by Dan Jones www.snappingchina.com

11 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

VENTUREREADER

Pangandaran

Start of Autumn Rigi Kulm, Lucerne, Switzerland Photographed by Ribkha Jordaniari Hasibuan Tobing

12 Venture | Apr/May 2013

VENTUREREADER

6HKC @ANTS SQ@UDK SNN 2G@QD XNTQ ADRS SQ@UDK OGNSNR VHSG TR Email your favorite three photos to melanie@venturetravelmag.com

Ambon

Thar Desert, Rajasthan Photographed by Melbourne www.melbournethephotographer.com

Apr/May 2013 | Venture

13

VENTUREFEATURE

Fire and Iceland

BY TITA ALISSA LISTYOWARDOJO AND CHRISTOPHER BACH PHOTOGRAPHS BY CHRISTOPHER BACH AND DAVID VARGA

The morning sun suddenly breaks through the clouds and lights up Mount Esja, a flat-­topped, 914-­meter mountain on the far side of Kollafjörður bay. Mt Esja’s colors change with the sun from dark greys to reds to sandy tones. Patches of grass on its slopes add green to the Icelandic scene.

VENTUREFEATURE

PREVIOUS PAGE EyjafjallajĂŽkull volcano TOP LEFT Jokulsarlon glacial lagoon BOTTOM LEFT The cathedral in Reykjavik RIGHT The expansive views of Iceland

16 Venture | Feb/Mar 2013

checks the thermometer hanging on his keychain: it’s 17° Celsius. Though we are wearing light jackets, we see locals dressed in summer wear: shorts, t-shirts, and sunglasses. For Icelanders, today is a hot summer day.

While Iceland might feel cold on the outside, it’s full of hot volcanic activity on the inside. Most volcanoes are dormant, but outbreaks do happen. In 2010 the volcanic ash cloud created by $XI@EI@KK@I±JTKK FQNTMCDC ƦHFGSR @BQNRR Europe for several days. Earthquakes are a frequent and normal part of Icelandic

life; like rain showers elsewhere.

We turn our backs on Mt Esja and head into the heart of Reykjavik. The center is small and modern, with shops selling everything from designer clothing to outdoor equipment to hip secondhand goods. The numerous cafés in the center radiate a cozy, relaxed atmosphere.

Returning to my hotel, I bump into SGD L@M@FDQ ř'NV CN XNT KHJD (BDK@MC Ś he asks. I ask him what he thinks I should see. “There are so many things you can do here!” he says. “Get on the tourist bus and see the nature we have.”

VENTUREFEATURE

BREATHING IN the scent of volcanic sulfur, travel partner Christopher and I enjoy the peaceful view of Mt Esja from Sæbraut street, beside a quiet harbor. A fresh summer breeze cools our skin. We are in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland.

Iceland is located in the North Atlantic Ocean between Europe and North America, just south of the Arctic Circle.

In summer, the long, bright days are an invitation to explore the country’s nature.

In winter, the days are short and only the northern lights brighten the nights.

It’s summertime. Christopher

PHOTOGRAPH BY DAVID VARGA/ SHUTTERSTOCK

17 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

VENTUREFEATURE

It is cloudy and windy the next morning. I follow the manager’s advice and join the Golden Circle bus tour, one of the island’s most popular excursions.

After a few hours, I know why the tour is so popular.

Icelandic nature is so varied. There are landscapes which look like the moon: lifeless deserts of lava rocks as far as the eye can see. Indeed, NASA trained in Iceland for one of their missions to the moon. Then the scenery changes and I see fantastic mountains topped with white glaciers and hill-shaped volcanoes. We CQHUD @KNMF FQDDM ĆĽDKCR @MC O@RS OK@BHC lakes and thunderous waterfalls. I see smoke rising from hot geothermal springs.

One thing I don’t see are forests and big trees. Icelandic trees are rather short.

Usually birch or tea-leaved willow, says our guide. “That is why, as the joke goes, if you ever get lost in an Icelandic forest, all you have to do is stand up!�

Later, in a cafĂŠ, I ask an Icelander if he misses trees. His answer is surprising. “We import some trees from Norway and Canada and plant them here and there.

But to be honest, when I am on vacation, I miss the wide views. In Florida there were trees everywhere. I couldn’t see far!� In Iceland you only need climb a few meters up any mountain to see far into the countryside, unobstructed by trees.

18 Venture | Feb/Mar 2013

For me, the highlights of the bus tour are the hot springs and Strokkur geyser. Geyser is one of the few Icelandic words which has made it into the English language. The Strokkur is a dependable geyser, shooting streams of V@SDQ LDSDQR HMSN SGD @HQ DUDQX ĆĽUD to 10 minutes.

The bus stops and suddenly the desolate scene becomes crowded.

Tourists circle the geyser, cameras at the ready. Christopher positions himself at a safe distance (the geyser water is about 80° Celsius) and sets his camera in sports burst mode. The waiting begins.

Then suddenly it bursts. Water shoots into the air, people scream and get wet, and a warm fog settles around the site.

ESDQ ĆĽUD RDBNMCR DUDQXSGHMF HR NUDQ Christopher smiles, he got the shot.

Back at the hotel, the manager asks whether I have met a lot of Icelanders.

He says that though Icelanders can be a bit rough and distant, they are usually very helpful. Iceland is one of the world’s smallest countries with a population of just above 300,000 people, the manager continues.

People used to live in small, isolated communities, often single farms, and are not used to having many visitors. Often the next-door neighbor lives several JHKNLDSDQR @V@X 3GDQDENQD GD ĆĽMHRGDR

Icelanders are not very talkative and you MDDC SN ƼQRS řV@QL SGDL TO Ś I experience this a few days later.

After touring one of the numerous hot spring areas, Christopher and I are picked TO AX @ ATR CQHUDQ HM @M NƤ QN@C U@M “Hello,â€? he greets. “I’m your bus driver.

I will do no talking. No talking! Just driving! Back to Reykjavik!�

In silence we rumble towards Reykjavik. After an hour, he abruptly stops the van. We are in the middle of nowhere: in some valley, surrounded by fog-shrouded mountains. It is raining lightly. A rundown house stands beside the long empty road. We fear something is wrong. The driver looks back and says,

ř( MDDC BNƤDDʖ #N XNT V@MS NMD !@BJ HM two minutes.”

6HSG GHR BNƤDD SGD CQHUDQ ADBNLDR more talkative. Perhaps this was what the manager meant by “warm up.” Outside the tourist season, the bus driver runs a RL@KK B@QFN BNLO@MX 'D SQ@MRONQSR ƥRG from the Reykjavik area to the airport every day. “Forty times a day,” he says.

This explains his driving style and his lack of conversation: his passengers are TRT@KKX ƥRG As my stay in Iceland nears its end, I feel sure I’ll be back. Next time I’ll go hiking into the varied landscapes. It has been a fantastic trip, and I will miss this beautiful, rough volcanic island.

FAR LEFT The Strokkur geyser BELOW Thingvellir National Park

The Fish Can Sing

by Icelandic novelist Halldór Laxness.

19 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

VENTUREFEATURE

Royally Stoned

BY MELANIE WHITMARSH PHOTOGRAPHS BY MELANIE WHITMARSH

The king sits serenely stoned on the veranda of his wooden house. Villagers whisper and spit. In the dusk the hibiscus flowers are a bloody red.

Inside the house we chew psychoactive areca nuts with the king’s barefooted niece.

23 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

VENTUREFEATURE

PREVIOUS PAGE Kolbano beach LEFT Local houses are well-­ kept with tidy yards BELOW King Benu of Boti

BELOW Afternoon showers over the brown Serengeti grasslands

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WEST TIMOR is dry and rugged, the colors of its rolling landscapes burned ochre and ash. It lies in the far east of the Indonesian archipelago, much closer to Australia’s Drysdale National Park than the country capital Jakarta on the lush island of Java.

I’m here to climb Mount Mutis and trek through canyons and savannah, passing villages with traditional beehive houses – villages in which police stations are still made from sticks, and honey and gasoline is sold in old gin bottles. But a chance DMBNTMSDQ VHSG SVN TRSQ@KH@MR ƥMCR LD HM SGD A@BJ NE @ B@Q NM a wild-toad-ride north to a village called Boti.

Boti is a village kingdom of 76 families nestled in the woods 40 kilometers from Soe in central West Timor. The village eschews modernity and Indonesian law, keeping its own traditional customs instead.

The road to Boti is long and rough. So rough it causes buxom Maria, one of the Australians, to comment: “I wish I’d worn my sports bra.” So rough we have to stop to push mighty boulders out of the way. Ultimately, too rough for our vehicle, which blows a tire - leaving us stranded under the sun in a CQX ENQDRS TMSHK VD ƥMC @ L@M @ G@LKDS @MC G@KE @ CNYDM motorbikes.

We enter Boti village through a simple picket fence and descend a stone path. The entire village is set in an idyllic garden of hibiscus, red-leaved shrubs, and coconut trees. On the right is a thatched wooden cottage with a cracked stone path leading to the open door. The cottage has been painted blue with shutters edged in red. Simple red, green, and white ikat curtains hang from strings in the open windows like pretty tea-towels strung to dry.

Later I learn this is the ikat shop. Photographs inside explain the ikat dying and weaving process and drawers hold pieces for sale. Behind the cottage women and girls sit on the earthen ground spinning yarn and working looms in the shade.

We descend the village path to the king’s wooden palace.

It has a wide, roofed veranda and is decorated with motifs of ATƤ@KNDR SQDDR @MC CDDQ *HMF !DMT HR RHSSHMF SN SGD QHFGS NE SGD open door to his house and is surrounded by village men; all sucking and chewing and spitting red betel.

King Benu sits in a homemade wooden chair with his hands

Venture | Apr/May 2013

TOP RIGHT The ikat shop in Boti BOTTOM RIGHT View from the peak of Mt Mutis

VENTUREFEATURE

TOP LEFT Betel peppers and areca nuts BOTTOM LEFT Honey for sale in old jenever and beer bottles RIGHT Simon and his traditional ume kebebu

neatly folded in his lap. He wears silver bracelets, a dark blue polo shirt, and a pale salmon and cream ikat skirt. He is barefoot and slender; his long, dark, frizzy hair knotted at the back of his GD@C 'D RLHKDR VHCDKX GHR KHOR RB@QKDS @MC RLTCFDC 'HR Ʀ@S teeth are edged in the bloody burgundy of betel.

We are invited to remove our shoes and sit on the other RHCD NE SGD UDQ@MC@ (ŗL GNOHMF SGD JHMF VHKK NƤDQ SN RG@QD RNLD ADSDK VHSG TR VGHKD VD BG@S @ANTS GHR JHMFCNL @MC ƥDKC GHR questions on the world overseas, but the king largely ignores us. Though my travel companions and I all speak bahasa, the lingua franca of Indonesia, King Benu professes not to, and we quiz him through a translator.

King Benu tells us his duties include keeping the village culture in balance with nature. The people of Boti have three gods: the god of the sky, the god of the land, and the god of water. Combined, these gods form a supreme god.

26 Venture | Apr/May 2013

The kingdom uses local materials for weaving and building, and sources its food locally. From inside the wooden palace wafts the scent of warm soup and rice. “When they cook, the women can’t speak or spit may fall into the food and that’s not healthy,” relates the translator. “If they talk while cooking, the women will be in trouble.”

The soup is ready and we are invited inside by Sau Sae, the king’s niece. We step into a living room with sofas and rugs and family portraits on the wall. Beyond is the kitchen, as simple and unadorned as any rural village kitchen in Indonesia. We eat rice with broth and quail eggs.

2HSSHMF NM SGD ƦNNQ NE SGD KHUHMF QNNL 2@T 2@D HR ONHRDC @MC elegant. She wears a pale ikat cloth and an eye-shaped golden ring. Her hair is tightly pinned in a ballerina’s bun and she has a serene, worn expression. Sau Sae is 36 and unmarried. “The king will decide when I am ready to marry,” she says, biting hard into an egg-sized areca nut. Cracked, she hands it to me.

The skin of the areca is green with a ripening autumn blush.

The stone inside is white with orange veins. Sau Sae has bitten NƤ @ OHDBD NE SGD RSNMD @MC RSNQDC HS ADSVDDM GDQ SDDSG @MC FTLR 2GDŗR ADDM BGDVHMF ADSDK RHMBD RGD V@R ƥUD XD@QR NKC As we ask about her life and routines, Sau Sae frequently glances towards the open door, through which we can see the JHMFŗR OQNƥKD ř( B@MŗS @MRVDQ SG@S Ś RGD @ONKNFHYDR ř( MDDC permission to answer that,” she says.

On the low table in the living room is a bundle of mossygreen asparagus-shaped betel peppers and a bowl of quicklime.

Sau Sae snaps a piece of pepper, frosts it with lime, and pops it in her mouth. “Too much lime turns your mouth red,” she says, spitting into a dish. “Like yours,” she observes.

I chew the areca nut with the betel pepper and kapor ONVCDQ 3GD PTHC G@R @ G@QC Q@V KHLD QHMC Ʀ@UNQ 3GD DƤDBS HR swift: a giddy, light-headed glee. I spit red and chew and chew and spit, smothering mellow giggles on the king’s settee.

Simon Tasekeb and his wife Ursula Tenisib use their ume kbubu as a smokehouse for corn. “It has no windows or the smoke will escape,” says Simon, as we crouch on tiny stools in the dark interior. Blackened corn ears hang inside the roof and a row of pig jaws line a back shelf.

“The house is 10 years old and took a week to build. All our neighbors helped, and in turn, we help construct theirs.” Simon and his wife prefer to live in a more modern, cooler house during the summer and use the ume kbubu in the winter for warmth.

I tell Simon my father lives in a ume kbubu in England: a thatched cottage with walls of horse hair and mud, but he is distracted by a chicken which has started eating the top of his roof.

VENTUREFEATURE

Trekking on white bootlace trails through a scorched landscape of scrubby hill, a voice suddenly calls out, in the lilting, musical tones of the West Timorese: “Hello! Want to see inside my house?”

Through the trees stands a man and his ume kbubu , a traditional beehive hut of dried grass.

The round hut looks like a huge, brown, crouching animal. Made of dried grass, the conical roof almost touches the ground and the bottom edge is neatly trimmed in a thick fringe.

27 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

Writing in Bali

BY EVE TEDJA | PHOTOGRAPHS BY M.G. WOOD AND CHEN WS

PHOTOGRAPH BY izarizhar/ SHUTTERSTOCK

VENTUREFEATURE

Suddenly, I’m the only one left standing on the quiet road through Nyuh Kuning village in central Bali, Indonesia. As the setting sun splatters red havoc across the sky, I think of word wizard Don George and the travel writing workshop I’ve just finished.

VENTUREFEATURE

“A SIGN OF a less sophisticated writer is the use of too many adjectives,” says travel writing teacher Don George. Don't we throw knowing looks at each other and giggle, scratching out words from our notebooks.

I’m one of 20 participants in a oneday travel writing class in the Ubud Writer’s and Reader’s Festival, an annual literary festival held in October, in Ubud, Bali. Our teacher is Don George, the Global Travel Editor for Lonely Planet Publications. “Travel writing won’t make anyone rich, but you get rich in the account of experience,” Don tells us, mopping his bald head with a towel and apologizing for sweating in the tropics.

We have met in the Swasti Eco Cottages in Nyuh Kuning, a quiet, green hamlet near the Ubud monkey sanctuary.

The wind dances through the bamboo gazebo, our open-air classroom, and we can hear goats bleating, crickets screeching, and the kukuruyuk from the cockerels. Sitting on bamboo chairs, with MNSDO@CR @MC !@KHMDRD BNƤDD HM G@MC VD

hope to learn the magic of travel writing. #NM RS@QSR AX CDƥMHMF SG@S SQ@UDK writing seeks to illuminate a place, to educate and inspire people about the world, and to share the learning from travel experiences. He leads us in a walk around the cottages, like a ringmaster, transforming us into a traveling class.

We pass a garden with rows of neatly labeled organic fruit and vegetables, bursting in degrees of orange, red, yellow, and green. A gardener picks ripe tomatoes, telling us we’ll eat them later for lunch.

We pass a joglo, a wooden Javanesestyle cottage and stop under a tall coconut tree in a sloping lawn of green grass. Some of us sit on the grass, while Don tells us to be always curious and pay attention to details; that details enrich writing. And to record details we should use cameras, voice recorders, and notebooks.

“Being a travel writer is not about you, but about the reader,” Don says. He talks about how the writer illuminates

PREVIOUS PAGE The stepped rice fields of Bali LEFT Balinese women take offerings to a temple ABOVE Sunrise in Jelantik

30 Venture | Apr/May 2013 PHOTOGRAPH

BY Chen WS/ SHUTTERSTOCK

the experience of travel for the reader, and how transitions, the links between one paragraph and another, are like “stepping stones” so that the reader doesn’t get lost. “You have to get to the point and take your reader with you.”

We re-meet the tomatoes at lunch, served with fried brown rice (nasi goreng), chicken, vegetables, and chilies.

Then we are given an exercise: to write a paragraph about our experience in Swasti Eco Cottages and read it aloud to the group. For 20 minutes the only sounds are the scratching of pens on paper and the creaking of rickety bamboo chairs as twenty brains excavate sophisticated adjectives from the dusty drawers of memory.

“Traveling with a travel writer’s mindset allows you to become a better traveler,” says Don, before closing his lecture for the day.

When the class ends I’m suddenly the only one left standing on the quiet road through Nyuh Kuning. The scorching sun splatters red havoc across the sky, but I’m

A good travel article is first a good story; a good read. It has rich descriptions and characters. It has action, dialogue, and flavors. It has a plot or clear path along which the writer is taking the reader.

The first two sentences are crucial. Start with a dramatic, evocative, or intriguing opening line: really draw the reader in.

Use all your senses. Sounds, sights, smells, feelings, textures, tastes, and temperatures help bring text alive. Use dialogue to give shape and depth to the people you engaged with. Work hard on descriptions of places to give the reader a real sense of the setting of each scene, then link each different scene with a transition sentence.

Be precise with your word choices and carefully fact check. Edit and then edit again.

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PHOTOGRAPH BY Chen WS/ SHUTTERSTOCK

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The 10th annual Ubud Writer’s & Reader’s Festival will be held between the 11th and 15th of October, 2013. For more information, check out: www.ubudwritersfestival.com

RIGHT Balinese girl praying FAR RIGHT A Balinese farmer carries sticks on her head through the stepped fields

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not ready to go home yet. ( ƥMC @ SHMX warung in front of a house @MC B@M RLDKK BNƤDD @MC A@M@M@R ADHMF fried. Tourists wearing Balinese sarongs and spiritual rudraksha beads around their necks cycle past, perhaps to a yoga class or to dinner down the hill. Sitting down on the wooden bench with my RVDDS C@QJ BNƤDD ( SGHMJ @ANTS SNC@X Ubud does that to me: it inspires me to QDƦDBS @MC VNMCDQ And not only me: Ubud has been a source of inspiration since the beginning of the twentieth century, when it warmly welcomed various bon vivants and artists.

Ubud is Bali’s heart of art, culture, and spirituality. Seduced by bare-breasted Balinese sirens in that age of innocence, some came to paint (Walter Spies, Rudolf Bonnet, Don Antonio Blanco), some to L@JD ƥKLR "G@QKHD "G@OKHM @MC AQNSGDQ Sydney), and some to lose themselves in SGD KTRG FQDDM QHBDƥDKCR These artists found the Balinese pace of life charming: or, as Charlie Chaplin concluded: “From these people one gleans the true meaning of life - to work and play - play being as important as work to man’s existence. That is why they are happy.”

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Don George was also happy in Bali. He shared with us excerpts from his original trip notes back in 1978, listing highlights such as the weaving in Gianyar, the silver in Celuk, the wood carving in Mas, and the painting in Ubud.

“The island is like one big sculpture of OK@BD Ś GD QD@C ř(ŗL DWSQDLDKX R@SHRƥDC with my stay in Bali. I have the feel of the place now and I know I want to come back someday.”

Many aspects of Bali remain unchanged since 1978. There is still wood carving in Mas and painting in Ubud, but as Indonesia’s most popular GNKHC@X CDRSHM@SHNM SGDQD @QD MNV ƥUD star hotels, branches of Starbucks, and buses of tourists swirling in a krumping street dance with surfer hipsters on scooters and VIPs in their own jets. Bali has something for everyone.

In the roadside warung, I push my DLOSX BNƤDD BTO @V@X (ŗL MNS QD@CX SN drop everything and become a full-time travel writer, but Don’s class has given me a more thorough understanding of how to be a better writer and more importantly - how to be a better, more observant traveler.

Ubud is the kind of town in which locals, tourists, and expatriates rub shoulders with each other.

At the center of Ubud is the grand palace, still inhabited by the royal family, and scattered throughout Ubud are museums and art galleries and yoga classes. Along the roadsides, visitors can see the neatly-built, traditional Balinese sandstone houses: family compounds in which two or three generations live together with the family temple and pets. Ubud is a 45-minute drive from the airport.

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Peter Matthiessen’s The Snow Leopard is Don George’s favorite travel book.

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BY EMILE LEUSHUIS PHOTOGRAPHS BY EMILE LEUSHUIS AND M.G. WOOD

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travels in West Sumatra LEFT Afternoon showers over the brown Serengeti grasslands

BELOW The impala, a polygamous African antelope

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Gem in a Coal Seam: After a thorough study of old maps and photographs in the Royal Tropical Institute in the Netherlands, I arrived in Indonesia eager to begin the footwork stage of my research into West Sumatran heritage. The fieldwork took me deep into the province: to Lake Maninjau, the Harau Valley, and Sawahlunto.

TOP Minangkabau roofs echo the shape of buffalo horns LEFT The sheer cliffs of the Harau Valley, popular among rock climbers

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I BEGAN in Padang, the gateway to and capital of West Sumatra.

3GD SNVM ƥQRS CDUDKNODC @KNMF SGD A@MJR NE SGD !@S@MF Q@T formerly the Handelskade. To reach the river, I wove through the bustling outdoor daily market - constantly alert for vendors with wooden pushcarts and motorbikes taking short cuts.

In 2009 an earthquake caused major damage to the city.

Today reconstruction continues. Prone to earthquakes, Padang has no high-rise buildings, giving the city the impression of a sprawling provincial town.

The original inhabitants were the Minangkabau people from SGD GHFGK@MCR NE 6DRS 2TL@SQ@ VGN RDSSKDC GDQD @R ƥRGDQLDM salt producers, and traders. They brought with them gold, pepper, @MC BNƤDD Ŕ VGHBG @SSQ@BSDC NTSRHCD @SSDMSHNM Acehnese tradesmen from North Sumatra arrived in the sixteenth century, followed by traders from Holland, England, China, and India from the seventeenth century onwards. Traces EQNL SGDRD CHƤDQDMS DSGMHBHSHDR @QD RSHKK ENTMC HM /@C@MF SNC@X Along the banks of the river are a mix of traditional wooden GNTRDR NKC BNKNMH@K NƧBDR @MC "GHMDRD SDLOKDR 2HSSHMF HM front of a small café was an old man in a fedora. He called me over.

“Try this,” he said pouring a drink into a glass of ice. “It’s B@KKDC "NƤDD !DDQ (SŗR @ E@LHKX QDBHOD SG@S LX FQ@MCE@SGDQ TRDC to sell.” It was sweet and refreshing.

From the café I followed the river towards the sea. A small ƦDDS NE BNKNQETK VNNCDM ƥRGHMF AN@SR V@R LNNQDC HM SGD QHUDQ

mouth. In the second half of the nineteenth century Padang had been a busy, important trading port, but little remained now: the old town was partly deserted.

TO LAKE MANINJAU From Padang I drove into the mountains. The road followed the winding course of a river, passing villages of wooden houses @MC VHCD FQDDM QHBD ƥDKCR Maninjau lake sits inside the remnants of a volcano which erupted 52,000 years ago. On the far side, the road to Bukittinggi makes 44 hairpin turns as it wriggles up and out of the caldera. Between the lake and the crater walls, villages sit @LHC BNBNMTS SQDDR @MC KTRG O@CCX ƥDKCR %NQ SGNRD VGN L@JD it to Maninjau, a popular activity is to bike around the lake - a 60 kilometer loop.

Out in the lake were several karamba ƦN@SHMF ^A@LANN decks supported by pontoons made from empty oil drums.

3GD ONMSNNMR VDQD ATNX@MS DMNTFG SN RTOONQS ƥRGDQLDM and sheds, and gave the impression of a peaceful hamlet @CQHES !DMD@SG SGD A@LANN V@KJV@XR VDQD TMCDQV@SDQ ƥRG breeding pens. ( LDS @ FQNTO NE LDM BNKKDBSHMF B@QO @MC SHK@OH@ EQNL SGD ƥRG cages and loading them into a van. “We have to transport them live to the local markets otherwise people won’t buy them,” said SGD U@M CQHUDQ ř2N VD SQ@MRONQS SGDL HM OK@RSHB A@FR ƥKKDC VHSG water and oxygen.”

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INTO THE HARAU VALLEY Ninety minutes from Bukittinggi, I noticed a mountain ridge in the distance.

A cleft in the ridge led to the Harau Valley, a lush plain of villages and paddy ƥDKCR RTQQNTMCDC AX RSDDO FQ@MHSD BKHƤR over 100 meters in height.

I walked into Harau village to see the Minang-style houses. Minangkabau houses have distinct roofs with soaring peaks - mimicking the shape of ATƤ@KN GNQMR 3GD M@LD ,HM@MFJ@A@T is partially derived from the word kerbau VGHBG LD@MR ATƤ@KN 3GD GNQMR symbolize wealth and protection. In Minangkabau culture women head the households and family possessions are inherited matrilineally.

The next morning local guide Eko and I hiked through the dense jungle of the Harau Valley Nature Reserve to the SNO NE SGD BKHƤR 6D O@RRDC @ V@SDQE@KK and several types of pitcher plants (nepenthes ƦDRG D@SHMF OK@MSR RG@ODC like small, lidded jugs. Through the trees we heard the clear call of the black siamang (Symphalangus syndactylus) - the largest and loudest of the gibbons. %HM@KKX VD RSDOODC HMSN ƥDKCR NE gambir (uncaria): man-sized plants with thick green leaves. Gambir is chewed with betel nut, and used in tanning and dying processes.

(M SGD ƥDKC V@R @M TMKNBJDC VNNCDM shed with a corrugated roof. Local men live here for weeks at a time while processing gambir leaves. It was dark inside but I could see a charred cooking pan and wooden press.

“Production has been temporarily halted, though,” said Eko. “The price of gambir has been unfavorable lately.”

6D ADF@M CDRBDMCHMF SGD BKHƤ While the men are working and living TO HM SGD F@LAHQ ƥDKCR SGDX @QD AQNTFGS ENNC EQNL SGD U@KKDX ƦNNQ AX SGD womenfolk. The women haul supplies TO SGD BKHƤR HM A@LANN A@RJDSR SHDC SN their backs with sarongs. On their return SGDX B@QQX CNVM SGD ƥMHRGDC F@LAHQ ENQ sale to passing tradesmen.

TOP LEFT The Harau Valley LEFT Minangkabau architecture at Lake Maninjau TOP RIGHT A carnivorous pitcher plant RIGHT The flower of the gambir plant

PHOTOGRAPH BY CHAI KIAN SHIN/ SHUTTERSTOCK

ON TO SAWAHLUNTO The town of Sawahlunto is set in a long valley surrounded by rolling hills. In 1868 Dutch geologist W.H. de Greve CHRBNUDQDC GHFG PT@KHSX BN@K ƥDKCR in this isolated area. To exploit these reserves, mines were dug and a railway track constructed to Padang harbor.

Sawahlunto town was established.

The town center was a neat square ringed by simple, white colonial-era buildings. There were trees, benches, wide sidewalks, a fountain, and a Catholic chapel, cloisters, and school. I felt as if I had arrived in Europe. In the evenings, the square became the local socializing point.

To learn more about the history I met Rika Cherish, the Head of Museums and Architectural Conservation in Sawahlunto. “The 1930s were the boom time years for the town,” said Rika as we walked through town. The wind tousled her headscarf and the townsfolk frequently stopped to greet her.

We started at the Gudang Ransoem museum. Built in 1918, this used to be the dining hub of town, dishing up thousand of meals a day to the miners

and their families. “Prisoners also worked here,” added Rika. !THKS AX ENQBDC K@ANQDQR SGD ƥQRS mine in Sawahlunto was Mbah Soero.

It was short-lived: opening in 1898, but forced to close in 1932 after being ƦNNCDC AX SGD MD@QAX +TMSN QHUDQ 3NC@X the mine is open for tourists. I pulled on a pair of safety boots and helmet and stepped down into the gloomy tunnels.

Water dripped from the dark walls. It V@R MNS G@QC SN HL@FHMD GNV CHƧBTKS HS must have been for the workers who dug these tunnels with little more than iron picks over a hundred years ago.

We walked up the main shopping street, passing Chinese shop-houses. The mayor today lives in the former residence of the Dutch assistent-resident. Nearby, a mosque built on the foundations of a coal power plant uses the old 70-meterhigh chimney as its minaret. .TQ ƥM@K RSNO V@R SGD Q@HKV@X RS@SHNM Built in 1918, the station today is a museum. In its day, the construction of the 155-kilometer railway to Padang was a technical tour de force, requiring bridges and tunnels. But coal production decreased in the 1940s due to dwindling

reserves and wartime disruptions - and with it the local economy and town residents. Eventually most mines closed.

The train services stopped.

The local council realized they had to reverse the decline of the town’s fortunes and turned to tourism.

“Sawahlunto is one of the best-preserved examples of a nineteenth-century industrial revolution town,” said Rika.

“Now we are using our mining history to promote tourism.” Public spaces were redesigned, old buildings restored, and a section of the railway reopened. There is even a working steam train.

Using history to promote tourism, and using tourism to support local economies and preserve local heritage seemed entirely in keeping with my own project: a guidebook weaving historical sites into walking routes. In my travels I was often the only tourist around, and the local people were eager to show me their lives and share their stories.

This gave my trip an extra, personal dimension. Unique history and heritage can just as easily be found in an old part NE SNVM @R HM CHRS@MS QTQ@K OK@BDR NƤ SGD tourist map.

TOP Formerly the Javasche Bank, today a branch of Bank Indonesia BELOW Thirty meters underground in the old Mbah Soero coal mine

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FAR LEFT The former office of Dutch trading firm Geo Wehry, Padang

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PHOTOGRAPH BY ELIZABETH WHITE

loud oup oup and

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Since independence from France in 1975, the Comoros has endured twenty-­four coups, earning itself the nickname Cloud Coup Coup Land. The tiny East African nation intrigued me. No one I knew had been here, and that drew me like a magnet.

COUSIN TO MAURITIUS The Comoros archipelago is located in the western Indian Ocean, between Tanzania and Madagascar - a cousin to Mauritius and the Seychelles. It comprises three islands: Grande Comore, Moheli, and Anjouan, and is one of the poorest nations on earth. There had been a fourth island, but Mayotte BGNRD SN QDL@HM @ %QDMBG CDODMCDMBX @MC MNV ƦNTQHRGDR under subsidies. From the air, I looked longingly down at the mesmerizing palette of tropical blues surrounding Mayotte.

It was raining on Grande Comore. The road to Moroni, the tiny capital, was a pot-holed slither of tarmac, cracked at the DCFDR @MC Ʀ@MJDC AX CDMRD FQDDM ITMFKD (M SGD CHRS@MBD ,NTMS Karthala loomed, its top half hidden under cloud. I peered nervously at it. At 2,361 meters, it is one of the largest active volcanoes in the world.

Women in purple zigzag-patterned sarongs and orange veils walked along the roadside balancing wrapped bundles on their heads. We passed goats, and dwellings of corrugated metal and grey breezeblock. Black sand lay everywhere; highly fertile, a gift from the volcano.

Entering Moroni, my taxi driver pointed out key sights: the Comoros TV station, the underwhelming presidential palace, and an electrical substation.

“Votre hotel,” he announced, turning into a side road towards the Itsandra Beach Hotel.

As evening fell, I sat at the pool bar with a German lager. “Imported at great cost,” noted the waiter. Gigantic EQTHS A@SR ƦDV NUDQGD@C @MC SGD NBD@M battered the shoreline. The power went out. In the Comoros, I reached the lowest ebb of my trip around East Africa. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, SGD C@VM ƦHFGSR SGD Q@OHC SQ@UDK SGD heat and humidity. Perhaps it was the rain. Thick clouds covered the Comoros, casting the island in a low and angry light. I retired to my room in darkness.

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BY JASON SMART | PHOTOGRAPHS BY ELIZABETH WHITE AND JASON SMART

LEFT A Comoros hillside BELOW The unspoilt coastline

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PHOTOGRAPH BY ELIZABETH WHITE

ROAD TO WITCHCRAFT The next morning a beautiful sun shone over Grande Comore. I met Omar, an @Ƥ@AKD FTHCD HM GHR LHC ENQSHDR 4MKHJD many of his countrymen, he wasn’t wearing a NRƲD - a round, brimless hat.

Instead he preferred a smart cotton shirt with a pen poking from the top pocket.

“We don’t get many British tourists,” he R@HC Ʀ@RGHMF @ VGHSD RLHKD ř(M E@BS VD don’t get many tourists at all.”

We drove to Iconi, a tiny settlement south of Moroni. It had once been the capital of the island. Goats roamed freely over ruins dating from 16th century Omani rule. On the lava encrusted beach a naked man waded into the ocean to bathe. Towering above GHL V@R @ AK@BJDMDC BKHƤ E@BD VGDQD VNLDM G@C NMBD ƦTMF SGDLRDKUDR SN their deaths to escape slavery at the hands of Malagasy pirates.

There are still pirates in these waters today. Omar related a story about Somali pirates capturing a local boat.

“The authorities realized and alerted Madagascar. Meanwhile, the pirates, heading for Mogadishu, realized the boat was low on fuel and changed course for Madagascar.”

Omar smiled. “As they neared Madagascar the pirates hid below deck, instructing the Comoros crew to say only that fuel was needed. The pirates didn’t know the boat had already been reported missing and that soldiers were waiting to board…”.

We drove further south to a small lake renowned for eels and witchcraft.

“People kill chickens and throw them in,” said Omar ominously. “Then they collect the water to cure illnesses.” I peered HMSN SGD C@QJ V@SDQ KNNJHMF ENQ R@BQHƥBH@K BGHBJDMR ATS RDDHMF NMKX ƥRG .M SGD road nearby walked two women: the younger with a face caked in a grey paste of sandalwood and coral. “It’s a beauty mask,” explained Omar. “Keeps the skin young and soft.” She looked like the walking dead.

TOP The Comoros export ylang-­ylang (pictured), cloves, vanilla, and pepper LEFT Comoros handicrafts RIGHT Local girl on Grande Comore

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PHOTOGRAPH BY ELIZABETH WHITE

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PHOTOGRAPH BY ELIZABETH WHITE

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PHOTOGRAPH BY ELIZABETH WHITE

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BY

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WHI

LEFT The sea around the Comoros is home to the coelacanth: a fish species believed to have been extinct for 65 million years but ‘discovered’ to be alive and well in the Comoros in 1952 FAR LEFT The Ancient Friday Mosque, Moroni

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BOTTOM LEFT Market woman wearing the sandalwood and coral beauty mask

OLD TOWN MORONI We parked in downtown Moroni, a bustling hive of market stalls set beneath colorful parasols. The city’s architecture was both Islamic and Swahili, with endless arches and occasional minarets. The painted facades were faded and cracked, and SGD QN@C DCFDR ƦDBJDC VHSG KHSSDQ !TS the womenfolk countered this: seated amongst piles of bananas, papayas, mangoes, and jackfruit, their colorful wraps and shrill laughter drew the eye.

Down stone steps we entered the heart of the old town. Under the shade of corrugated metal overhangs, mothers watched playful children.

Myriad passageways snaked between grey stone walls, passing doors painted vivid blues and reds. People stared and pointed at me inquisitively, asking why a white man was visiting their medina; a stranger from far away.

“The Comoros is a matriarchal society,” said Omar as we strolled through a winding alley paved with white stone. “The women own the houses and land. When a woman dies, the property is passed to the eldest daughter. That is why the birth NE SGD ƥQRS C@TFGSDQ HR @ LNLDMSNTR family occasion. If the family has no

daughters, they’ll adopt one – perhaps from a sister or cousin.”

The medina opened to the sea. A rusted red ship lay in the shallows and boys played in a small boat nearby.

Behind the seawall was the most photographed building in Moroni: the Ancient Friday Mosque, dating back to the 15th century. It was large and white and topped with a green minaret. An @QBGDC @QB@CD Q@M @BQNRR SGD ƥQRS SVN ƦNNQR BTQUHMF RLNNSGKX @S SGD BNQMDQR ( could see why people liked it.

“There is a new, bigger mosque now,” Omar said. “But this will always be my favorite.”

ITSANDRA We drove north to the village and beach of Itsandra, stopping at the ruins of an Omani palace. Omar pointed out the former hall, guard towers, and sleeping chambers. Nature grew over and through the old walls like a trellis. Beyond the ruins, the Indian Ocean was a stunning aquamarine.

On the way down to the beach, a cavalcade of three shiny vehicles passed us, beeping loudly. The middle car had AK@BJDC NTS VHMCNVR @MC Ʀ@FR NM SGD front. Was the President of the Comoros ƦDDHMF SGD K@SDRS BNTO (S STQMDC NTS SN

be the Sudanese ambassador ramrodding his way to the airport.

Itsandra beach was picturesque in a traditional way. Out in the surf over forty ƥRGDQLDM VDQD BKTLODC SNFDSGDQ HM @ tight jumble of wooden boats, toiling with hand lines as their forefathers had done for hundreds of years. ř3GD ƥRG SGDX @QD B@SBGHMF QDRDLAKD sardines,” said Omar as we walked across the yellow sand. “Delicious cooked with coconut milk and breadfruit.” Nearby, a FQNTO NE VNLDM RSNNC VHSG SQ@XR NE ƥRG on their heads, preparing to go to the market. Others sat on upturned wooden boats - waiting. Young boys congregated at the shoreline. All around, exotic conversation carried over the sound of the waves.

That night brooding storm clouds gathered. A torrential thunderstorm shook the walls of the hotel. As I packed for Dar es Salaam, I cringed at the recollection of my earlier travel weariness and dark temper. I had enjoyed the Comoros. It was tranquil, M@STQ@KKX AD@TSHETK @MC NƤDQDC SGD UDQX real threat of volcanic eruption. It was a slice of traditional Indian Ocean life @MC ENQ SGD HMSQDOHC SQ@UDKDQ HS NƤDQDC exclusivity: the Comoros really was an undiscovered destination.

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REAL-TIME FLIGHT INFORMATION With that success, iMedia Group expanded into tourism with the Indonesia Travel Channel, and then into hotels.

In cooperation with airport administrator Angkasa Pura, H,DCH@ &QNTO V@R @AKD SN @BBDRR @BBTQ@SD ƦHFGS RBGDCTKDR @MC SN CHROK@X QD@K SHLD ƦHFGS HMENQL@SHNM HM GNSDK QNNLR By connecting to a signal owned by TVRI, iMedia Group and Angkasa Pura were able to transmit information directly to hotels. Thirty hotels became clients of iMedia Group, including the Grand Hyatt. A new era of partnership between Angkasa Pura and iMedia Group had begun.

In 1999 a Flight Information System was formally agreed, which included data from several smaller airports, including Surabaya, Banjarmasin, and Balikpapan.

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Besides Airporteve, iMedia Group owns other alternative media at Jakarta’s Soekarno Hatta airport, including check in counter displays, check in counter sign boards, TV stand ad. media, PTV stand adv. media, and digital signage.

After its success with Airporteve, iMedia Group expanded into the airline ticket business, selling indirectly through an IT system called Aeroticket.

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54 Venture | Apr/May 2013 PHOTOGRAPH

BY HAVESEEN/ SHUTTERSTOCK

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BY PRAMOD KANAKATH PHOTOGRAPHS BY PRAMOD KANAKATH AND ERWIN KINDANGEN

It is pitch dark and the night is full of sound: cicadas, the waves of the Molucca Sea, and the music of the rainforest frogs. Led by torchlight, we search for one of the world’s smallest primates: the tarsier.

MY WIFE LINA and I have come to the dense jungles of the TangkokoBatuangus Nature Reserve to track down the spectral tarsier (Tarsius tarsier): one of the smallest primates in the world.

Tarsiers are the only wholly carnivorous primate: preying on insects, birds, and frogs, among others. Stealthy hunters, they can uncannily jump on or grab their oblivious prey. But being nocturnal and arboreal, tarsiers are challenging to see in their natural habitat. Will we get more SG@M ITRS @ FKHLORD We drive east from Manado to the 8,718-hectare Tangkoko Nature Reserve in the northeast peninsular of Sulawesi, Indonesia. The road twists round hairpin bends and passes rustic farmland and traditional houses with holy crosses standing like sentinels in front. There seems to be a test to enter the reserve: a rickety bamboo bridge above an NUDQƦNVHMF B@M@K 6D CQHUD B@QDETKKX across. The car wades through mud and slush, then a half-paved road leads into tall woods and we hear the sound of the sea.

We meet our guide Fernando at a concrete shelter for rangers. He wears a headlamp and scratches at his legs. “How HSBGX HR HS FNHMF SN AD Ś +HM@ @MWHNTRKX asks. “Ngak apa,” Fernando smiles. “A little bit only. You must have bought repellents.” Lina busily sprays her hands and legs while I register our names in the visitor’s book and pay the Rp 150,000 entrance fees (US$16 per person).

We trudge into the jungle, leaving behind the barks of the dog at the ranger shelter. The wild grass cunningly hides the narrow path, making for awkward

LEFT Tarsiers can’t move their eyes, but they can swivel their heads almost 180° giving them an all-­round view

ABOVE A dreamy island off the coast of Manado

passage. Fernando cuts through plants whose tops have wound together and blazes new trails through the vegetation with his machete. The grasses give way to giant trees. “Hati-hati, leeches on your left,” Fernando warns, pointing to a swampy patch. Above, the jungle canopy NARBTQDR SGD RJX RN SGD ƥQRS Q@HMCQNOR take us by surprise. I can hear the sea.

We arrive at the sandy slopes of the shore. The water is a pristine azure. It’s not dark yet and the virgin beach beside the forest is stunning. The fallen leaves and sand conjure up some wild, natural

smell in the drizzle. Sea-swept shells of CHƤDQDMS RG@ODR @MC CDRHFMR KHD RSQDVM across the sand. There are no urchins here to collect and sell them. I think of the beaches of southern India and the RNMR NE ƥRGDQLDM UXHMF VHSG D@BG NSGDQ for possession of the shapeliest shells.

At 6 p.m. the ochre woods begin to darken. With reluctant hearts we leave the shore. Fernando peers into the tree tops and we follow his gaze. Up among the branches of the jungle canopy is a world like another planet - with routines we know very little about.

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.MD AX NMD ATS VHSG CHRSHMBSKX CHƤDQDMS OHSBGDR @MC intensities, the tarsiers begin their collective dusk chorus. We track their ululations. Fernando knows the trees the tarsiers E@UNQ S@KK SGHBJ ƥF SQDDR VHSG BNYX BQDUHBDR @MC GNKKNVR in which to dwell. Suddenly we see a dozen black crested macaques. They appear friendly, coming close to us and giving us the opportunity to get close range photographs. Meanwhile, the tarsiers keep calling. Their howls and the echoes of their howls misleading us here and there.

Fernando reminds us to be patient and silent. We search for trees with hollows. When he hears one call, he creeps in that direction; then swerves at the song of another. We follow him like obedient servants. Suddenly Fernando accelerates through the jungle, and this time doesn’t change course. Have we made @ AQD@JSGQNTFG 6D RDD SGD S@HK ƥQRS SG@S KNMF RKDMCDQ S@HK G@MFHMF CNVM

like a banyan tree’s roots. “Finally!” I utter. “It’s so small!” Fernando shushes me, but notes that tarsiers can grow to 15 centimeters. The tarsier ogles us BOTTOM with its disproportionately large, round North Sulawesi is one of DXDR (S ƥQLKX BK@ROR SGD SQDD AQ@MBG VHSG Indonesia’s most popular destinations for divers DKNMF@SDC ƥMFDQR QDLHMCHMF LD NE @ babe in arms. Stepping to the right, I am BELOW within one meter of the tarsier. Its ears Humans remain a are like dish antennas. The tiny black significant threat to tarsiers through habitat pupils of its brown eyes seem to convey conversion @ LDRR@FD OTYYKDC ODRSDQDC ODSQHƥDC Then from inside the hollow, a second tarsier pokes its head out. It is cautious, but after a few minutes it tentatively leaves the hollow. We inch closer, like an @QLX @ANTS SN @LATRG %DQM@MCNŗR Ʀ@RGKHFGS HKKTLHM@SDR SGD two tarsiers in a halo of white light. They do not move. I ignore my tripod in my impatience to shoot. To protect their eyes, I CHR@AKD SGD Ʀ@RG NM LX "@MNM %DQM@MCNŗR SNQBG FHUDR RTƧBHDMS light for me to focus. “So tiny! Tinier than in the pictures,” Lina whispers while videoing them.

The two tarsiers eye each other. One jumps to another branch, perhaps ready to hunt. It is now pitch dark and the night is full of sound: waves on the shore, the persistent clamoring of the cicadas, and the music of the rainforest frogs.

At another tree we see two more tarsiers, one smaller than the other. They are playful: hopping from branch to branch.

Fernando speculates these are mating attempts, but there is no such feast for our eyes tonight.

After two hours we trek out of the Tangkoko Nature Reserve, considering ourselves lucky to have been so close to the tarsiers. Their dusk-time duets still echo in my ears.

TOP Tarsiers live in Indonesia, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Brunei

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In addition to spectral tarsiers, inhabitants of the Tangkoko Nature Reserve include wild pigs, bear cuscus, macaques, fruit bats, hornbills, boobooks, bee-­eaters, and kingfishers.

Accommodation is available in Batu Putih village.

57 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

PHOTOGRAPH BY MARK PACEY

BY SARA SCHONHARDT PHOTOGRAPHS BY MARK PACEY AND SARA SCHONHARDT

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Malapascua Island sits like a floating crumb in the Visayan Sea in the southern Philippines. You can see it from Cebu, so it’s hardly remote.

From its eggshell white shores hazy mountain peaks cross the horizon.

LEFT Revenue from scuba diving tourism is a key economic driver

59 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

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BUT THIS TINY ISLAND nugget – you can walk around its oblong shape in a morning – seems a world away from the market ATRSKD SQ@ƧB GTRSKD @MC B@BNOGNMNTR commotion on the bigger islands.

Unlike Boracay, the more famous resort island to the north, Malapascua’s pristine beaches and stunning tropical landscapes have few crowds and boozy tourists.

However, its cerulean waters have, over the past decade, drawn an increasing number of visitors –the type who come to scuba dive, island hop, and enjoy a slice of island life.

The line between the island villages and the tourist infrastructure is distinct (sometimes it’s as real as a wall or a fence). Still, people welcome visitors into their homes in a way that blurs these boundaries.

(S V@R NM SGD LNQMHMF NE LX ƥQRS day here, when I awoke to a view of the UHKK@FD ŕ NQ LNQD RODBHƥB@KKX @ UHDV NE @ OHFODM BHQBKDC AX ƥFGSHMF BNBJR Ŕ SG@S ( realized Malapascua was special.

"NBJƥFGSHMF HR @ E@UNQHSD O@RS SHLD and often occupies men during the idle afternoon hours. In the early mornings, however, many of the people here head CNVM SN SGD RD@RGNQD SN BNKKDBS RGDKKƥRG sea urchins, and other sand creatures.

These tiny human smudges dot the horizon in a hunch-backed, low-tide SQDJ ENQ ENNC @MC ƥRGHMF A@HS 6G@S SGDX catch they fry with sugar and oil, one man tells me.

Fishing once fuelled the island’s economy, but people here now rely on money made from scuba diving tourism.

On Bounty Beach, the main tourist strip, children hawk shell necklaces and bracelets. They start with a good sales OHSBG ř6G@SŗR XNTQ M@LD Ś !TS @QD GNMDRS to a fault when asked about their wares. ř#N XNT L@JD SGDL XNTQRDKE Ś ( @RJ @

girl with faded brown hair who says her name is Marianne.

“No, we just sell them for a small commission,” she explains. “The money helps us pay for school.”

It’s that frankness that partially makes Malapascua such a treat to visit.

“The people are so real and honest,” says Oliver Mischo, the manager at $WNSHB (RK@MC #HUD 1DRNQS NMD NE SGD ƥQRS CHUD NTSƥSR NM SGD HRK@MC @MC SGD NMD that claims to have discovered the rare thresher sharks that come to clean daily at a nearby underwater shoal.

SHARK ATTACK Thresher sharks are famed for their long tails, which can rival the length of their bodies. The sharks use them to stun prey. But threshers are in danger, hunted for meat that is in high demand in Taiwan and China. They are also made vulnerable as their marine habitats are destroyed by climate change and CXM@LHSD ƥRGHMF Oliver says little is known about the population of the thresher sharks at Monad Shoal, where they regularly come to clean. A conservation organization has BELOW Thrilling seascapes

been conducting research here, since it is one of the only places in the world where divers can see the creatures on a near-daily basis. Depending on the season, the surrounding shoals also draw hammerheads, manta rays, and whitetipped reef sharks.

Diving is Malapascua’s main tourist draw, but one that has only gained traction over the past 15 years. Oliver Mischo, a native German, has marketed dive trips here to European tourists for three years, and each year he sees a marked rise in interest.

The growing number of visitors has transformed Malapascua from a onebungalow island to one with a dozen hotels and more on the rise. But while that sort of development might seem worrisome on another island, Malapascua has taken it in stride.

1DRHCDMSR G@UD ENTMC V@XR SN ADMDƥS from tourism by starting up their own businesses or tapping local talents. They BNNJ NQ RDKK SQHMJDSR ,@MX ENQLDQ ƥRGDQLDM have been trained as dive masters.

Oliver says 90 percent of the resort RS@Ƥ HR EQNL SGD HRK@MC @MC L@MX NE SGDL G@UD ADBNLD BDQSHƥDC CHUDQR Their awareness of the marine life in the surrounding waters has helped curb overƥRGHMF @MC HLOQNUDC BNMRDQU@SHNM DƤNQSR

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PHOTOGRAPH BY MARK PACEY

TOP LEFT The vibrant underwater micro world

TOP RIGHT Colorful nudibranch

PHOTOGRAPH BY MARK PACEY

BELOW A thresher shark

61 PHOTOGRAPH BY |MARK PACEY Apr/May 2013 Venture

VENTUREFEATURE ABOVE Sunset’s cooler temperatures draw the locals to the beach RIGHT Young entrepreneurs find time to play FAR RIGHT Wood carver Julito Tuico

62 Venture | Apr/May 2013

ISLAND LIFE Rosalita Robio cooks barbecue picnics for island hoppers and FHUDR L@RR@FDR NM SGD AD@BG 2GD HR ATWNL @MC @Ƥ@AKD 6GDM ( meet her she is holding a plate of sauce-drenched chicken and wearing a charcoal-streaked tank top that reads, “Irresistible.”

“I like being my own boss,” she says.

All around the island women do odd jobs to make ends LDDS .MD M@LDC 1NBGHR BNNJR RL@KK LD@KR @MC NƤDQR pedicures. “I have nine children to feed,” she explains.

The Philippines has one of the highest birth rates in Asia – a result of Catholic aversion to birth control and little access to family planning services. In December, shortly after the Philippine Congress passed a controversial reproductive rights bill that would help the country’s poorest women access birth control, a local bishop said overpopulation was “God’s plan for Filipinos,” who make good caregivers and wives to people in other countries (the Philippines has one of the highest populations of overseas workers).

“Most people here have too many children, and no way to feed them,” says Julito Tuico, who carves thresher sharks, hammerheads, and octopi from red meranti, a soft wood common to Southeast Asia. When I meet him he’s sitting on his haunches alone under a tree and we strike up a conversation about the children running wild on the beach.

“I only have four children,” he laughs.

Julito is quiet, unassuming, and warm as the evening sand.

His salt and pepper beard hides soft wrinkles imprinted after 57 years of sun and smiles. He once worked as a taxi driver in Cebu and had never seen a thresher shark when he started carving them from picture books in 2004, he says.

Now he carves up to seven sharks a day and works with a

collective of young boys who sell them. One of his daughters, Jollibee (also the name of a popular fast food chain), has set up a Facebook page so Julito can advertise online.

On my morning walks, and as I lounge on the beach in the evenings, I meet many people like Rosalita and Julito. They invite me over for meals, to a disco, or for a game of basketball – a favorite sport owing to the presence of the US military.

The main village, Logon, with its palm thatch huts, water pumps, and public toilets, is tucked away behind the modern tourist stays, but there seems little animosity toward the tourism industry. “It’s the best,” says Jollibee.

MC VGHKD !NTMSX !D@BG L@X MNV AD Ʀ@MJDC AX CHUD RGNOR and island restaurants where 15 years ago there were none, there are no Starbucks, no ATMs, and no enclosed dining.

On New Year’s Eve Julito invites me to his home for some traditions — spaghetti, fruit salad, and island rum. He introduces his son, a policeman, with a wink and a nod. This warmth, too, is one of Malapascua’s charms.

Thresher shark conservation www.threshersharkproject.org Exotic Island Dive Resort www.malapascua.net

63 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

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BY DAAN VERMEER PHOTOGRAPHS BY DAAN VERMEER

66 Venture | Apr/May 2013

BELOW A Taoist pagoda in Lotus Lake, Kaoshiung

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After a night in a Buddhist temple, a trek through mountain passes in the Taroko National Park, and a market feast in Taipei, I find it hard to get Taiwan out of my mind.

67 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

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Set in the Pacific Ring of Fire, north of the Philippines and east of mainland China, Taiwan is an island of soaring mountains, deep gorges, and prehistoric archaeological sites.

Trekking highlights include the Taroko Gorge and the 3,952-meter Mount Yu, the highest peak in northeast Asia.

Taiwan has almost 400 species of butterflies, and over 400 species of resident and migrating birds.

For more on the temple, check out www.fgs.org.tw/english

ABOVE Nuns at Fo Guang Shan, Kaoshiung LEFT Guards at the National Revolutionary Martyrs Shrine, Taipei RIGHT The Longshan Temple, Taipei

68 Venture | Apr/May 2013

PHOTOGRAPH

BY CHAI KIAN A sudden drum breaks the silence.

It is theSHIN/ call SHUTTERSTOCK for meditation, after which the nuns hum and kneel in synch. As a visitor, I’m not allowed to enter their part of the hall - it would disturb their ritual - but a gentle Taiwanese man next to me, in the back of the hall, nods his head in my direction every time it’s time to kneel down on the provided pillows. I try to follow the two-hour ritual, but it’s hard to empty my mind and dispel thoughts of time, sleepiness, and breakfast.

EXPERIENCING THE MOMENT After the ceremony, the nuns disperse across the villagesized compound. Some go to the library to study Buddhist philosophy; others head to the meditation rooms, or do gardening work.

I join one of the older nuns on her way to the calligraphy room. She walks unhurriedly, with a gentle smile. She explains that one of the Buddhist objectives is to fully experience the moment. And on this short walk, she points out the birds, the early sunshine, and the fresh air that I would normally take for granted.

The calligraphy room looks like a primary school BK@RRQNNL 3GD TORS@HQR QNNL HR ƥKKDC VHSG QNVR NE VNNCDM benches. Large posters of Chinese characters decorate the walls. It is this nun’s job to manually copy texts, as part of the Buddhist teaching. Using a paintbrush and black ink, she creates elegant Chinese characters on rice paper. She invites me to sit beside her and try to copy three widelyused characters: happiness, prosperity, and longevity. It becomes immediately evident that this work requires absolute dedication and concentration.

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MEDITATING NUNS I wake at dawn to the sound of a drum. Walking sleepily from the pilgrim’s lodge at the Fo Guang Shan temple towards the main meditation hall, I pass a group of resident nuns. They are wearing long reddish-brown robes. Their heads are shaven, their mouths are closed. With bowed heads, they walk in three straight lines across the courtyard, until they disappear, one by one, behind the wooden doors of the largest temple building.

I follow them. Inside, amid the fragrant incense smoke, are three golden eight-meter-tall Buddha statues and 15,000, individually lit, wooden Buddha statues in the walls.

(MBDMRD CQHESR SN SGD RL@KK OHKKNVR NM SGD ƦNNQ VGDQD SGD nuns take position. Although there must be over a hundred nuns in the temple, the only sound is that of the birds tweeting outside. These devotees to Buddhist philosophy take the morning meditation with great respect and do so without unnecessary speaking.

(SŗR ITRS @ESDQ ƥUD HM SGD LNQMHMF @MC SGNTFG RKDDOX I’m trying not to miss any detail of this Mahayana Buddhist temple complex, located near the city of Kaohsiung in southwest Taiwan. It is the headquarters of a worldwide monastic order, and opens its doors to anyone interested in experiencing the Buddhist life that takes place within the temple compound.

In addition to the meditation hall and lotus ponds, is a university, a home for the elderly, and a pilgrim’s lodge - where I, as a visitor, am staying in a room in the cheerfully named Love & Compassion wing. Since the complex is located on a hill well beyond the city limits, trees, birds, Buddha statues, and silence are abundant.

69 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

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TAROKO NATIONAL PARK After exploring southwest Taiwan, I ƦX D@RS SN SGD CDRDQSDC LNTMS@HMR NE Taroko. The east coast of Taiwan has known unrest for centuries. Long before the Dutch, Japanese, and eventually the Chinese claimed the island, this area was the domain of the Taroko aboriginals.

These wild, rugged, headhunting tribes lived in the deep gorges. They had tattooed faces, and those who were victorious in battle would take the heads of their slain opponents and hang them from the trees.

Today, Taroko is a nature reserve, with deep, eroded river dales. I walk on trails under overhanging rocks and see worn walls of marble. Far below, the Liwu River ƦNVR @ RTQQD@K NO@K AKTD .BB@RHNM@K rope bridges span the river, swinging back and forth in a way which would even spend shivers down Tarzan’s spine.

The bridges are not in use today.

Along the way, I meet a woman wearing a crocheted red cap. Her cheeks @QD RL@KKDQ @MC GDQ DXDR CHƤDQDMS SN SGD Han Chinese who dominate the island.

She is one of the last descendants of the aboriginals.

I walk on to the Changchun Shrine $SDQM@K 2OQHMF 2GQHMD 2DS ƦTRG VHSG SGD trees, the orange-roofed shrine is too small for monks to live in, and was built to commemorate over 200 veterans who died during the construction of a nearby highway. A bridge frames the spring before it cascades down on to the mosscovered rocks below.

FLAVORS OF TAIPEI After exploring the scenery of the east, I’m ready to discover the bustling city of Taipei. I take a slow, three-hour train from the mountains to the northern ABOVE The Changchun Shrine, Taroko LEFT A descendant of the Taroko aboriginals TOP RIGHT Aboriginal food, Taroko RIGHT Barbecued sausages at the Shilin Night Market, Taipei

Taroko National Park covers over 92,000 hectares and is home to black bears, macaques, and wild boar. Its peaks soar above 3,000 meters.

Headhunting was banned by the Japanese in 1914, and the custom of facial tattoos abolished by the 1930s.

capital. Compared to other Asian capitals, Taipei may be of modest size, but when I reach the observation deck on the 91st ĆŚNNQ NE 3@HODH ATHKCHMFR @MC BHSX KHFGSR @QD @KK ( B@M RDD SN the horizon.

Street food is abundant: it’s as if people do nothing but eat all day. Roadside food stalls sell soup and sausages and ice cream and century eggs. These eggs (pidan) are preserved in a coating of clay and lime for three months, causing the egg VGHSD SN IDKKHEX @MC SGD XNKJR SN STQM AK@BJ MC SGD S@RSD 6GHKD chewing, I experience a powerful aroma of egg, sulfur, and @LLNMH@ SNFDSGDQ VHSG ƌ@UNQR TMJMNVM SN LD ( CNMŗS ADKHDUD these eggs will ever be popular to the Western palate.

The night markets provide further proof that the Taiwanese never cook at home and are always hungry. Even past midnight, the Shilin Night Market remains extremely busy. Many food stalls sell familiar dishes: stir-fried spareribs, vegetables, noodles, sausages dripping from the barbecue, fried chicken legs, and fresh fruit shakes. But there are many stalls selling food items unknown to me. Though, in Taiwan, dogs, snakes, and cockroaches are not on the menu, so I can safely snack until the small hours of the morning.

One night in Taiwan is not enough.

In June, July, and August it rains a lot and temperatures reach 35 degrees Celsius. The other months are drier with temperatures around 20-25 degrees Celsius.

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BY LYDIA TOMKIW PHOTOGRAPHS BY LYDIA TOMKIW AND MELANIE WHITMARSH

KR A

The warm, black volcanic sand stuck to my feet reminding me that this is no ordinary island.

This is an island of legends. Its mere name conjures up flashbacks to middle school science classes about volcanoes and images of spewing and flowing lava: Krakatoa.

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PREVIOUS PAGE Anak Krakatau and its active crater ABOVE Monitor lizard on Rakata RIGHT The remnants of the original island are now covered in lush forest

74 Venture | Apr/May 2013

WHEN KRAKATOA volcano erupted in 1883, the sound it emitted was the loudest in recorded history. The explosion inspired authors and artists and its name became synonymous with incredible destruction. Then in 1927 its rebirth began. Anak Krakatau, as the Indonesians call it - the child of Krakatoa, emerged from the sea.

Located in the Sunda Strait between the islands of Sumatra and Java in Indonesia, Anak Krakatau is a young, fast growing volcano. Boats to Anak Krakatau leave from Carita, a seaside town in West Java. As we left the green coastline of Java, dotted with homes that had once been BNLOKDSDKX CDU@RS@SDC ƦN@SHMF A@LANN ƥRGHMF GTSR B@LD HMSN UHDV Ŕ FQHKKDC ƥRG would be on the menu tonight. Ninety minutes later, I gazed up at the black, barren, conical top of Anak Krakatau.

When Krakatoa began erupting in 1883, pumice rained down from a dark sky and dawn didn’t appear. Simon Winchester records in his book, Krakatoa, The Day the World Exploded: August 27, 1883, the observations of British Captain Sampson, who was out at sea on the fateful day. “So violent are the explosions that the ear-drums of over half my crew have been shattered…I am convinced that the Day of Judgment has come.”

Locals and foreigners alike headed

and small crabs scurry across the sandy beach at the base of Anak Krakatau. It is a testament to nature’s power to create and destroy.

When Krakatoa erupted, the geography of the immediate surrounding area changed. Today Rakata Island and the newly formed Anak Krakatau are divided by sea. They were once part of the same island.

Pulling on my snorkel mask in SGD V@QL 1@J@S@ V@SDQR ƥRG PTHBJKX surrounded me as I hovered above large coral beds. It is hard to imagine that 130 years ago the whole area became dark as destruction rained down. While sitting on the beach later, I heard a rustling in

LEFT Afternoon showers over the brown Serengeti grasslands

BELOW Afternoon showers over the brown Serengeti grasslands

RIGHT Afternoon showers over the brown Serengeti grasslands

SGD ATRGDR @MC R@V SGD KNMF ƦHBJDQHMF tongue of a monitor lizard. Life of all shapes and sizes has returned.

Our boat sped away from Rakata Island as the late sun glistened on the rich, dark volcanic sand of Anak Krakatau.

6D CQNOODC SGD @MBGNQ NƤRGNQD @MC pitched tents on the island.

As the sky slowly darkened, our group began hiking up Anak Krakatau. Digi, a local guide and surfer who grew up near Anak Krakatau, warned us the volcano was not completely safe today. He has V@SBGDC K@U@ AHSR ƦX HMSN SGD RJX @MC G@R ƦDC EQNL SGD HRK@MC VGDM GD EDKS C@MFDQ draw near, a reminder that Anak Krakatau remains very much alive.

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inland and up into the hills as explosions continued and waves rose over the land. Over 36,000 people died, most succumbing to the tsunamis triggered by the volcanic eruption. News of the catastrophic eruption that wiped *Q@J@SN@ NƤ SGD L@O QD@BGDC ODNOKD @KK over the world. ř(S V@R SGD ƥQRS DUDQ RSNQX @ANTS @ truly enormous natural event that was both about the world and was told to the world,” Winchester writes. He attributes the English misspelling to mistakes made AX INTQM@KHRSR VGHKD SGD RSNQX V@R ƥQRS being broken.

Today trees and lush green vines grow from the black volcanic ground

75 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

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We trekked to the main lookout point for sunset: the highest we could trek to without using special masks and shoes.

With each sinking step, black volcanic R@MC ƥKKDC LX GHJHMF ANNSR NM SGD BKHLA up. The smell of sulfur burned the inside of my nose. White patches hot to the touch dotted the ground of the upper portions of the volcano. Steam rose from the ground and Digi laughed while telling a story about frying eggs on the volcano’s surface.

Wispy clouds moved across the sky as the sun began to set over the neighboring islands Rakata and Rakata Kecil. The spread of dust and particles from Krakatoa’s eruption in 1883 created vivid sunsets around the world, inspiring painters and their choice of color palettes. The light from a full moon guided us as we descended back down SN NTQ SDMSR @MC @ CHMMDQ NE FQHKKDC ƥRG and shrimp on the beach.

At 5:30 a.m. we hiked back up Anak Krakatau to the same lookout point.

After 30 minutes of climbing, we lay down on the side of the volcano and waited for the sun to rise. I felt small

76 Venture | Feb/Mar 2013

and powerless in comparison to the volcano as I watched clouds dance around the peak of Rakata. The sun rose over the surrounding islands and it became unbearably hot as the sun struck the black, bare upper surface of Anak Krakatau.

Before leaving Anak Krakatau, we sailed to the other side of the island for one last spot of snorkeling. This side of the island remains charred and looks somewhat menacing — a reminder that this is no slumbering volcano. The waves crashed on large volcanic rocks and no trees or plants grew, begging the PTDRSHNM "@M @MC VHKK HS G@OODM @F@HM “On Anak Krakatoa there is a continual release—which may look dramatic and may on occasion make for trouble and cause causalities, but which suggests that, in the short term at least, the danger is predictable and any crisis manageable,” Winchester writes.

Our boat sped away from the island in the early afternoon. The next day, back in Jakarta, black volcanic sand fell out of my shoes — little pieces of Anak Krakatau had come back with me.

From Jakarta it is a three-hour drive to Carita from where boat trips leave.

Travel during Indonesia’s dry season between April and October. Seas can be especially choppy and dangerous during the rainy season.

Many companies offer tours and excursions to Anak Krakatau and neighboring islands. I traveled with Krakatau Tour and Travel.

LEFT Rock and ash rained down in the sea around our dinghy during this shoot

ABOVE Trekkers at sunset on Anak Krakatau

BELOW The black sand beach on the fertile shore of Krakatau

77 Apr/May 2013 | Venture

BY TRAVELERS: FOR TRAVELERS

DOWN A COAL MINE SUMMER IN ICELAND TREKKING WITH TARSIERS CLIMBING ANAK KRAKATAU BETEL NUT WITH TRIBAL ROYALS taiwan iceland indonesia the comoros the philippines

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BY TONY SUGIARTA | PHOTOGRAPHS BY KOREA TOURISM ORGANIZATION

Inspired by the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Spain, the Jeju Olle Trail encourages walkers to take long, slow rambles to cleanse the soul and find spiritual peace amid the beauty of Jeju island.

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JEJU IS a 184,000-hectare volcanic HRK@MC KNB@SDC NƤ SGD RNTSGDQM BN@RS of South Korea. It is a UNESCO World Natural Heritage site, and popular holiday and honeymoon destination. The Jeju Olle Trail system opened in 2007.

There are 22 interconnected trails on Jeju covering over 230 miles. The trails pass volcanoes and waterfalls and memorial sites, cut through villages and farmland, traverse beaches and forests, and cross paths with farm pigs and wild deer. There are no maps. Walkers are guided by colored route markers.

The route markers vary from arrows on lampposts, to ribbons in trees, or poles planted in the soil. The trick is to keep your eyes open and spot them. It feels like being on a treasure hunt.

Dressed in Bermuda shorts and carrying a sling bag with water and supplies, I set out on the blue-colored route from Hwasun to Moseulpo, a medium-rated 9.2-mile trail. It was a warm Sunday morning. I’d been told this trail was especially stunning, and could AD BNLOKDSDC VHSGHM ƥUD GNTQR KD@UHMF me plenty of time to catch my evening ƦHFGS SN 2DNTK 3GD SQ@HK RS@QSDC HM @ PTHDS ƥRGHMF town. There were few people along the streets. Housewives shopped for

Venture | Apr/May 2013

-Manjanggul lava tube -The haenyeo, the aging female free divers -November’s annual Olle Walking Festival groceries and high-spirited children chased each other in the playground.

There was a humid summer breeze.

2TQOQHRHMFKX SGD ƥQRS EDV JHKNLDSDQR were a trial. Not all the blue markers were readily visible. In short, I got lost a couple of times.

Once I completely missed a marker.

Distracted by my camera, the grassy trail beneath me disintegrated into a muddy track taking me to the middle of a rice ƥDKC ( GNOODC NM EQNL FTMMXR@BJ SN gunnysack, sometimes slipping ankledeep into the soft mud. I reached an asphalt road. Should I turn left or right, or cross the road and continue along the SQ@BJ 3GDQD VDQD MN L@QJDQR ( QD@KHYDC ( shouldn’t be there at all, and retraced my muddy steps until I saw a blue ribbon in a tree.

Back on track, the trail passed through

thigh-high bushes with wide emerald KD@UDR @MC ROQNTSHMF NQ@MFD ƦNVDQR Beyond was a beautiful mountain forest @MC @ AQHFGS AKTD RJX ( BQNRRDC SGD ƥMD sand of Hamo Beach where an elderly man was watching his Jack Russell swim in the calm sea.

The trail entered a dense and earthy pine forest, before coming to the frame NE @ )@O@MDRD ƥFGSDQ OK@MD TRDC HM World War II. I had arrived at Altturu HQƥDKC @ M@U@K @HQ A@RD ATHKS HM by the Japanese during the second Sino-Japan war. Nearby was Seodal Oreum, the site of a secret massacre of blacklisted federation members during the Korean War in 1950. Instructed by the Department of Interior Security, the Moseulpo Police Department detained and killed approximately 210 people without legal process and buried them in secret. In 2001, bereaved families dug up the bodies, leaving a large crater which can be seen today. Both sites are now immaculately maintained educational sites. %NQ SGD ƥQRS SVN GNTQR ( G@C RDDM MN other walkers. But now, emerging from the luscious forest along the horizon, silhouettes moved nearer. Fellow trekkers were approaching coming from the opposite direction. We exchanged

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ABOVE Bring water and snacks with you

BELOW It takes 12 days to walk the whole route

LEFT Afternoon showers over the brown Serengeti grasslands

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Olle is the Jeju word for the narrow pathway connecting the street to the front gate of a house.

Deep blue, foam-topped waves crashed @F@HMRS SGD BKHƤR 3GD RD@ AQDDYD @MC rolling waves were calming, but overhead the sun was merciless. I was dehydrated.

My lips were chapped. My skin was burning. No amount of sunblock relieved the tingling on my face from the sun and the strong salty breeze.

After passing Mount Songak, I reached a ganse – a pony-shaped Olle Trail distance marker, named after the small native ponies. I had completed sixty percent of the route. I glanced at my watch and panicked. At my current speed, I might miss the last bus back to )DIT BHSX @MC TKSHL@SDKX LHRR LX ƦHFGS SN Seoul. It was time to run. ( RBTQQHDC SGQNTFG @ ƥRGHMF UHKK@FD 3GDQD VDQD RS@STDR NE ƥRGDQLDM @MC boats, but none of the hustle and bustle ( VNTKC DWODBS EQNL @ ƥRGHMF ONQS (

dashed across the dark sand beach along the Yongmeori Coast.

After eight hours of tumbling and climbing up and down the terrain, I reached the tiny Olle hut at Hwasun &NKCDM 2@MC !D@BG SGD ƥM@K CDRSHM@SHNM What a relief! This white, sandy shore overlooking Mount Sanbang was packed with families relaxing on the Sunday afternoon. Now I too could relax: I had made it on time. I bought a Jeju Olle Trail bandana to celebrate and headed back to the city with a smile.

OPPOSITE Trails pass through meadows, beaches, farmland, forests, and villages

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smiles, and I felt cheered at the thought that I was not alone on the trail. Rescue was possible.

The sun reached its highest point.

I was hungry and my shoulder hurt. I drank my water and ate soggy fried chicken - leftover from last night’s RTOODQ (S V@R @ LHRS@JD SN ƥMHRG @KK LX supplies: I had no idea where the next food establishment was.

But, like an oasis in the desert, I came across a hotdog truck by the side of the road. I ordered iced cappuccino. Another walker was also taking a break. He was in his 40s, came from Seoul, and was halfway through his quest to complete @KK SGD .KKD 3Q@HKR 'D NƤDQDC LD @ kimbap - a Korean sushi roll of rice wrapped in seaweed with a spicy kimchi ƥKKHMF I entered a thick forest at the base of Mount Songak overlooking the ocean.

BELOW Bring a raincoat in case of unexpected showers

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Lombok

Shutterbug Weekend FROM TRADITIONAL Sasak dancing to ikat weaving to Hindu temples and white sand beaches, Lombok, the island east of Bali, Indonesia, is a photographer’s dream.

In March, Venture joined photography enthusiasts for a weekend of photography in Lombok.

Exploring from a base in Senggigi Beach Hotel, the weekend included a photography workshop presented by the University of Indonesia’s Professor Priadi Soefjanto, and a dream list of location shooting: the potters of Banyumelek, the traditional ikat weavers of Sukarara (a village in which girls cannot marry until they have learned to weave); the Sasak houses, music, and dancers of Sade and Rambitan; the sea-view Hindi temple at Batu Bolong, and the white-sand beach at Kuta.

84 Venture | Apr/May 2013

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TOP LEFT Group shot with our Merpati plane BOTTOM LEFT Clouds give depth and mood to sunset photography RIGHT Prof. Priadi Soefjanto leads a photography workshop BELOW Weaving in Sukarara

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RIGHT A potter in Banyumelek

BELOW The Aerowisata Senggigi Beach Hotel

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Hot Shots Hot shots from the tour include 1st place winner Eni Jenikawati’s Sasak Dancer, 2nd place Victory Agung’s Ikat Weaver, and 3rd place Purwadi Siswana’s Sunset at Batu Bolong.

A big thank you goes to Media Travel Indo, Mexlens and Merpati Airlines who made the Lombok Photography Tour possible.

Ready to shoot?

The next photography tour will be held from May 9th to 13 in Hong Kong, Macau and Shenzhen. Email us at mediatravelindo_ydm@yahoo.com and venture@venturetravelmag.com or call +62 21 9879 5659 or +62 819 3239 0878 for more details.

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WH Macau App (http://www.macauheritage.net) pinpoints Macau’s Historic Centre sites, and via the magic of 360-degree Google Maps and GPS provides real-time multimedia and interactive information, which can be downloaded for free from the Ruins of St. Paul’s Tourist Information Desk in traditional @MC RHLOKHƼDC "GHMDRD /NQSTFTDRD @MC $MFKHRG 3GD 3Q@ƧB (MENQL@SHNM OO GSSO VVV CR@S FNU LN NƤDQDC HM "GHMDRD @MC /NQSTFTDRD VHSG H/GNMD @MC MCQNHC UDQRHNMR OQNUHCDR HLLDCH@SD SQ@ƧB @MC SQ@MRONQS HMENQL@SHNM HMBKTCHMF ATR QNTSDR B@Q O@QJHMF @MC QD@K SHLD SQ@ƧB HL@FDR MacauMap (http://www.macautourism.gov.mo) with search function - presented in iPhone and Web versions, in Chinese, /NQSTFTDRD @MC $MFKHRG HCDMSHƼDR RS@Q GNSDKR QDRS@TQ@MSR tourist attractions and bus routes. Ŗ,@B@T !TCFDS 'NSDKR 2HSDŗ &QD@S MDV QDRNTQBD ENQ 5HRHSNQR Macau Hoteliers and Innkeepers Association, with the support NE SGD ,@B@T &NUDQMLDMS 3NTQHRS .ƧBD OQDRDMSR SGD AQ@MC

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PERSONALJOURNEY

The Ultimate Outdoor Adventure Challenge WITH MARK SQUIRRELL | PHOTOGRAPH BY MARK SQUIRRELL

Nighttime mayhem will explode in Arthur’s Creek, near Melbourne, Australia on May 11th when the country’s first scenario based adventure challenge kicks off: the Global Frontline Challenge.

Mark’s Mt Everest climb and experiences as an overseas aid worker promoting peace between nations and trying to eradicate poverty are captured in his book From Arafat to Everest.

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THE SCENARIO is civil war. Competitors, in teams of four – representing a family TMHS VHKK @SSDLOS SN ƦDD @ RHLTK@SDC hostile environment.

Under the cloak of darkness, teams will navigate by head torches along a pre-set, six-to-eight-kilometer course over undulating bush terrain. Participants will carry weighted backpacks to represent their personal belongings.

Along the way they will encounter unexpected, interconnected mental and physical challenges.

“It’s the ultimate test of mental strength and perseverance and, unlike traditional outdoor adventure challenges, GFC entrants won’t be forewarned about what’s coming around the corner.”

The Global Frontline Challenge will appeal to endurance athletes, giving them a taste of the realities of hostile environments.

The man behind Global Frontline Challenge is extreme adventurer Mark Squirrell, a former Australian commando @MC K@SDQ RDBTQHSX NƧBDQ ENQ SGD 4MHSDC Nations World Food Program, who climbed Mt Everest to raise awareness

and funds for a school feeding program in Nepal.

Mark, who thrives in trying circumstances, drew on his experiences in the Australian Special Forces and as an overseas aid worker in the design of the adventure challenge event. He is no strange to adversity, having worked in locations such as Somalia, Palestine, and Afghanistan.

“My experiences from assisting ODNOKD VGN VDQD ENQBDC SN ƦDD SGDHQ homes formed the base for our scenario,” said Mark. “Competitors will have a lifelike experience and gain unique insight into the perils of a combat zone.”

ACCESS AID INTERNATIONAL (www.aai.org.au) The Global Frontline Challenge is also raising money and awareness for Access Aid International, an international non-governmental organization which provides access to health care in the @ESDQL@SG NE M@STQ@K CHR@RSDQR @MC BNMƦHBS (MCDDC SGD ƥQRS BG@KKDMFD ENQ entrants is to fundraise. Only the top 48 fundraisers will qualify to participate in the Global Frontline Challenge. “This is how it works in reality: those with money often have a higher chance of escaping a war zone.”

The Global Frontline Challenge will be held from May 11 to 12 at Arthur’s Creek. For details, see: www. globalfrontlinechallenge.com

You are a member of the clan that is supporting the uprising against the corrupt government. You no longer feel safe: government troops have begun targeting civilians. It’s time to flee across the border with your family and your most valued possessions… Go! Go! Go!!

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