Whiling away the days in paradise!

With a shortage of cash I couldn’t stay in the same place for the whole month I was in the Togean Islands. Being two days travel, each way, to reach the nearest ATM suitable for my Visa card, it wasn’t an option. It’s one of the biggest problems of visiting these islands, you really need to bring a whole wad of cash for a prolonged stay. And the locals know it, I don’t mean local to the islands either. More and more stories have emerged of people being robbed surreptitiously on night buses. The victims all seemed bound for the Togeans, the culprits knew what they were doing and were very good at it. There are solutions, you must have a lock on your bag or you valuables on your person. For me, I don’t like the discomfort of a money belt, it also makes me, as a person, the target rather than my bag. Make sure your bag has a two way zip on it, then loop a padlock through. It won’t stop a determined thief but it’s a good deterent. (Photo: Bajo fishing hut - Offshore atoll, Nr Malenge, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

I found alternatives to cash, but it meant using one of the only two resorts that dealt with credit/debit cards. They also happened to be the main dive centres in the island chain, the combination fit my requirements hand in glove. After a perfectly lazy fortnight I was ready to pack my bags and head off for Kadidiri. A freeby snorkeling trip was an unexpected parting gift, so my last day gave me the only exploratory look off the actual island of Pengampa. The first site was pretty good, a lot of coral and reasonable numbers of fish. I was somewhat spoilt by the boatman anchoring into clumps of live coral. Three times I went back to the boat and chastised him, to be honest I don’t think he understood my reasoning behind the request. Each time he’d lift the anchor looking confused, then drop it back into coral once I’d gone back out snorkeling again. I nearly stopped snorkeling in disgust, I felt so angry. It wasn’t my money paying for it though, I’d been invited by another guest. I made a serious point about it with him but he was completely non-plussed. (Photo: Forbidden fruit - Malenge, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

Anyway, moving islands was a way of starting afresh. The diving centres both ran their operations using western guides and instructors, they had to be more conscientious about the environment they earned their living from. Hearing of projects to wipe out the crown of thorns starfish on their reefs raised my hopes. I had a choice of two and the decision was an easy one, there was only one boat waiting at the ferry when we pulled into Wakai. I could have still chosen the other once reaching Kadidiri, but in all honesty the Paradise resort was in a much better setting. I actually let a couple I’d met on the ferry check out the competitors, they were back in no time having undergone a hard sell from the staff at Black Marlin. To be honest there wasn’t much difference in the quality of accommodation, prices were similar too. It really depended on what you were looking for. A younger crowd were in residence down the beach while I was there. They weren’t rowdy at night or anything, but hearing them whooping and hollering on their way out in the boats made me glad to be chilling out where I was. (Photo: Black tipped reef shark - Kadidiri, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

While at Kadidiri Paradise I got ten dives in, all at different places, and every one different in its own way. It was great getting up close to the coral, looking in the tiny nooks and crannies, spotting the little critters. And yes, my buoyancy is good enough to get real close without risking damage to the coral. I saw some lovely nudibrachs, flat worms, and minute polycheates. But the wall dives were my favourite, just for the overall effect. Immense underwater scenes, superb cliff formations, and the chance to see some of the more impressive beasties. We did see a napoleon wrasse, but that was the most impressive sized creature we saw, everything else was on the small scale. But it’s not just how impressive the sea life is, it’s the whole experience. Weightlessness is sheer poetry, with spot on buoyancy it’s as close as you could get to being in space. In fact you are, in inner space, rather than outer space. You don’t need to fin, there’s no need for correction, can you imagine jumping out a plane and not falling. (Photo: Flying lizard - Kadidiri, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

A couple of us had a lot more experience than the others diving, other than Gonzag the instructor. We both got some free dives by accompanying near novices. It was a chance for Gonzag to give all his attention on those who needed it most. Other than that Janique and I buddied up, it made for stress free diving, neither of us needed to worry about the other, we set our own pace and let the others race ahead. Our first 40m dive was awesome, we did a few at that depth, eventually taking a couple of others on their first dive of that depth. Though that was my worst dive, I used a different regulator, which sucked in water. I was meant to be leading the dive and concentrating on so much at one time reduced my own pleasure, For our 50m dive I was on it for personal pleasure only, but it wasn’t a difficult dive for that depth, only a quick swim through a crack starting at 42m with an exit no lower than 52m, if you squeezed through as low as you could. (Photo: Fidhal, my little friend - Kadidiri, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

Relaxing on an evening I'd often be joined by a young lad, Fidhal, who'd jabber Bahasa at me. Any time I managed to actually repeat his words he'd compliment me with obvious glee. And to be honest I never tired of his unintelligible words.

But diving was certainly the focal point of my stay at Kadidiri, there was only one day I didn’t dive. There were even words about possible involvement on a paid level, if only I were to hang around for long enough. I’m not interested though, I really enflamed my old passion for diving, but as before I want to do it for pleasure, not money. In all honesty the level of incompetence of many casual divers is shocking, putting in a couple of dives every couple of years will never improve your skill level. There again I’m lucky, I logged a high number of them continuously for a decade. I’ve just had a four year break, but was still one of the most conservative when it came to sucking my tank dry. For me, I still needed a few dives to fine tune my buoyancy, and my air consumption would improve if I was fitter. If I wasn’t plagued by cramps from having dodgy hamstrings it would improve. The most important thing here though, is just how wonderful I found my rediscovery of diving. (Photo: Blue tailed skink, I think - Kadidiri, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

Travelling has become tiring. Don't get me wrong, I'm not fed up with it, just weary of the hassle of organising transport and hotels. Lethargy rules, I don't want to look for yet another hotel, negotiate with yet another taxi driver. On the flip side of the coin though, I can't imagine trying to lead a mundane life either.

Sailing through Sulawesi

An endless expanse of total darkness engulfed my world, punctuated by widespread flickers of distant lightening. As dusk had encroached on the ferry’s watery world dense clouds descended, obscuring the twinkling of heavenly delights. It seemed set to mark a passage beset by squalls of water from every which way, a lumpy passage at best, gut wrenching if the increasing wind continued. Fortunately it proved a localised storm, it came and went in the blink of an eye. On a calm and tranquil ocean our sluggish leviathan laboured ever onwards, under a moonlit sky, filled with a million glittering stars. Casting my eyes upon the swell from our blunted prow, I marveled at the electric sparkles streaking along our bow-wave. Phosphorescence glistened in the frothing spume, a miniature Milky Way created in our watery wake. Forgotten was the deep throb of our marine diesels, the hubbub of wailing karaoke and the combined stench of foul latrines and dirty exhaust fumes. I rode on a contented wave of silent appreciation of nature’s beautiful response to human interruption. (Photo: Kids working the traffic queues - Makassar, South Sulawesi, Indonesia)

It was a slow and laborious ferry that took me across the ocean from Flores to Sulawesi, but it was far from tedious. Apart from the natural delights, haphazard attempts to engage me in conversation helped pass the time. It also helped procure a ride with a bunch of students, at local prices, in their pre-arranged minibus. Turning out to be no more than a 7-seater people carrier, we still managed to squeeze in ten passengers, such is the way in Indonesia. Nor was the ferry destined for Makassar as claimed at the port, hence the need for further transportation. I’m only glad I wasn't a victim of the extortionate prices levied for Boulay, which is a rare pleasure indeed when having to make private transport arrangements in this volcanic archipelago. That’s proved to be the most tiresome aspect of travel through Indonesia, they’ll unashamedly misinform you and rip you off, knowing your options are limited they are quick to exploit the fact. (Photo: Weird and wacky island formations - Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

In southern Sulawesi commerce seems to centre on marine life and coconuts. The coast is lined by fishing hamlets consisting of rickety shacks and drying racks. Tiny whitebait are dried en-masse upon bamboo platforms, baby barracuda and wrasse hang from racks, and tuna, from little more than bite size to giants, sold fresh. Saltwater inlets feed man-made lakes, extensive fish farms, circulating clean seawater with the tide. The inland side of the road consists of a mix between brick and wooden built homes, not the hovels of the poor folk but substantial houses of intricate design. Their gable ends culminate in geometric wing designs, with double sloped roofs, higher pitched in the middle for better air circulation. Unlike the fishing shacks they are well presented, fresh coats of paint, balconies adorned with latticework and hanging pot-plants. For the humble fishing folk their utility time is spent maintaining their boats, when not out to sea they lavish their attention on decorating their vessels. (Photo: Boys having fun on wrecked ferry - Wakai, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

Makassar is the southern capital and the largest city in Sulawesi. Whilst not favouring high rises it gives a false impression of being smaller than it actually is, but the urban sprawl spreads over a large area. Shopping malls are, like most modern Asian cities, becoming more popular. Outside their entrances a confusion of taxis, motorised tri-shaws and cyclos, their pedal driven equivalents, vie for custom. It appears that many of the drivers have invested their whole lives in their vehicles. They eat, work and sleep in their mobile workplace, often with the family whiling away the hours on the pavement from where they base their operations. Kids weave in and out of traffic, hands held out for the chance of spare cash. If money isn’t forthcoming they’re almost as happy to receive empty coke cans or plastic bottles, any little thing that has some redeemable cash value. None of these street dwellers are pushy or overly demanding, their energy and happy countenance is contagious. (Fadhila Cottages beach - Pangempa Island, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

Little time was spent in Makassar, I was impatient to reach the Togian Islands; for me they marked the finishing point of my overland journey. Within 24 hours I managed to sleep, locate the central bus terminal, book a ticket and settle into my reclining seat for the overnight ride to Palopo. The road through Sulawesi is notoriously long and increasingly rough going. I wanted it over in one foul swoop, so I could lie back on a secluded island and watch the world go by, a well deserved rest after many months of being on the move. For me Indonesia, in many ways, has been the hardest place to appreciate. I expected more from it and found myself disappointed with the many forms of extortion. Its transport infrastructure is basic to say the least, and many people capitalise on this. It makes tourists a prime target, mainly because time is often of the essence to them. I’m sure a solid grounding in Bahasa would negate such problems, but try as I might I’ve only managed to grasp the basics. (Photo: A glorious sunset to welcome me to Fadhila Cottages - Pangempa Island, Togeans Islands, Sulawesi)

However much I bitch about locals taking advantage of tourists I must concede that the police are even worse. They make little effort in any form to uphold the law, their position as law enforcement officers seems solely a means to relieve all and sundry of their hard earned cash. Checkpoints are regular occurrences, supposedly to scrutinise ID and vehicle documents. They are no more than an opportunity to extort bribes, I didn’t see a single document inspected. A simple procedure is followed; drivers slip a Rupee note amongst the document, it’s removed and they’re free to proceed, nothing else is looked at in the process. When dropped off at one such checkpoint, to wait for my on-going lift, the officer tried demanding 200,00Rp from me, supposedly for the lift I’d already paid for. He seemed surprised when I poured scorn on his clumsy attempt, even more so when I set off by foot rather than be subject to his ‘help’ in finding me the appropriate lift. He said it would cost 150,000Rp, I paid 70,000Rp. (Photo: Bajo houseboat - Katupat, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

And so for the first time I’ve booked a plane ticket, to get me from Sulawesi back to Kuala Lumpur. It will be the first leg of my return to Europe. If I expected a sense of elation, it wasn’t to be. It should have been, having come from Wales to Sulawesi without a single flight. Unfortunately it was marred by the discovery that I’d been robbed, for the second time since leaving home. Opening my document case, I casually flipped over the inner flap, only to find no money there at all. No 3,000,000Rp, no $50; a total loss of nearly £250. I was gutted, absolutely flabbergasted, and clearly to mind came the event of waking from the overnight bus journey and finding my day-pack misplaced. I only gave it a quick once over, everything seemed in place, document case, camera, iPhone; if only I’d checked fully. Of course, the last thing you want to do in public is expose a large amount of cash from the darkest recesses of your luggage. I’m only glad I’m in the habit of dividing my money, stashing it in a couple of different places. It does however leave me very short of cash for the islands, where there are no ATMs, no chances to obtain more cash. But I still have my debit card, my passport and all my electronic gadgetry, others have not been so lucky. (Photo: Flurry of fish escaping predators - Off Katupat village, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

Despite my mood plummeting, I wasn’t about to turn tail and run away. These islands have been my goal for many months, why should I let one unhappy instance rob me of my dreams? Have faith, trust in life! I still have my health, and my wits, I’ll muddle through somehow.

Fadhila Cottages, on a tiny island in the middle of the Togian Islands, first came recommended nearly 8 yrs ago. I guess since then it’s been kept in mind for a future visit. A secluded island paradise is how it was first described, and for once it wasn’t a let down. There’s nothing else on the island except the guesthouse, which is just as well as there’s little room for anything else. For the eternally restless it could be described as boring, for a weary traveler it’s perfect for winding down. The journey through Indonesia has often proved frustrating, but once on board the ferry from Ampana the outside world slid slowly away. Uninhabited islands dotted the way, often little more than a lump of rock on a sandbar. We saw more flying fish than fishermen, there was a distinct lack of settlements. Very few islands are close enough to supplies of freshwater to make occupation viable. I must admit, it took a few days to settle in, but that was more a sign of how cheesed off I was at losing so much money. (Photo: Air breathing mud skipper - Pangempa Island, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)

How is it possible to remain disgruntled though? By 9.30pm the generator stops, leaving the whole island in a darkened slumber. All is still, all is quiet, only the gentle sounds of nature at rest remain to lull you into peaceful tranquility. Waves lap lazily onto the shore, a few metres from my doorstep. The rising moon silhouettes drooping palms, the stars twinkle through their fronds. Rustling in the undergrowth suggests animals on their nocturnal wanderings. The flickering glow of fire-flies trace their haphazard flight through the foliage. An occasional chirrup of insects joins the subtle noises of night-time. There is nothing to break the spell, no background rumble of traffic, no pounding dance beats of late night revelers. My world is one at rest, undisturbed by the chaos of the outside world. This is the magnet that has drawn me here, this is reward enough for months of travel. It’s too easy to find fault in the mayhem of the modern world, this is just what I was in need of. It may not be perfect, but it’s pretty damned close. (Photo: Romantic sunset - Pangempa Island, Togean Islands, Sulawesi)