Flying Home

I guess they don't want to encourage people to sleep on the chairs in the waiting area of the departure hall, but they know very well that many people do, so it seems like they would be a little kinder in having chairs without gaps in between them to make it slightly more comfortable.  Oh well.  I arranged my bags around in the seat next to me and made a pillow of sorts out of a jackets and a couple of scarves.  I had intended to use my inflatable neck pillow, but it inopportunely sprung a leak.  I couldn't find any comfortable way to recline, but made myself somewhat comfortable sitting up leaning on my bags.  I used on of the sarongs I bought in Ubud as a blanket, and actually slept fairly well, all things considered.  I probably got four hours or so of sleep all together, although I'd have to wake up every forty-five minutes or so to unkink all my muscles that were going to sleep.  

About a quarter to five I rearranged my stuff back into flying order and went to brush my teeth and freshen up.  I planned to put on shoes at this point, but I just couldn't bring myself to just yet.  I may end up being cold for a few minutes once I land in Wuhan, but it's worth it for a few more hours in flip-flops.  

Check-in and security went as usual, and I headed in search of breakfast on the way to the gate.  I had been disappointed, as the Krispy Kreme I had been to on my last trip through the Don Mueng airport was on the domestic departure side, and there wasn't one listed on the international departure side.  Fortunately, the signs were wrong...there it was, tucked in the corner right next to the Subway and McDonalds.  I had a subway sandwich for breakfast (yes, I know that's rather an odd breakfast, but I wanted something solid and non-greasy), sitting in a small waiting area balancing it on my lap, since all the tables were full.  I bought a couple of donuts, of course--I ate one for dessert after I finished my sandwich.  I wasn't in the least bit hungry for it, and sadly it was cold (what kind of Krispy Kreme doesn't have warm donuts at 6:30 in the morning??), but after I'd waited all night for it I wasn't going to turn it down.  I saved the other for later, though, as it was cold anyhow.  

I finally wandered down to the gate.  After sitting for a few minutes, I stood up and surveyed my belongings, considering whether I needed to go bad enough to schlep it all to the bathroom or not, when someone three rows back stood up to and called my name.   

Kristin, who works at the university-next-door where we go on Sundays, had been travelling in Thailand and had booked the same flight back to Wuhan.  Later on, we saw another teacher from Wuhan also on the same flight, but neither of us was close enough to talk to him. What are the odds?

We finally landed in Wuhan around lunch time.  Other was one of those landings where they pull the stairs up to the plane, you disembark onto the runway, and then they bus you to the arrival gate. As I was still wearing flip-flops bad it was supposed to be only 43 (although sunny) in Wuhan, I was prepared to freeze, but I was pleasantly surprised that it didn't seem too cold at all.  Maybe it was the sunshine. I did, however, put on shoes after collecting my bag from baggage claim.  

One of the great things about running into Kristin was that we could split the fare of the rather expensive taxi home, since our campuses are so close. It was a good trip, but coming home is nice, too.

Passing the Time in Bangkok

The things we do to save money...when buying plane tickets for this trip, I found that getting a flight from Bali to Wuhan, which involves a connection in the middle, usually in Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur or occasionally Guangzhou, would cost more than four hundred dollars if I bought it from cheapoair or kayak, my current go-to sites.  The flights would be at convenient times and have a reasonable layover that would get me home in a day...but I really didn't want to spend that much.  I looked at Air Asia, the local discount airline, but it's primarily a point-to-point airline--there are only a few routes on which you can book connecting flights.  However, I could buy a ticket from Bali to Bangkok, and then a separate ticket from Bangkok on to Wuhan.  Together, they would be well under three hundred.  

Unfortunately, the times didn't line up too well.  The flight from Bali arrived in Bangkok at 3:00 in the afternoon, and the afternoon flight to Wuhan left at 3:50.  As I had to go through customs, and especially once I decided to check a bag that I would have to collect from baggage claim and recheck, the time was just too tight.  There's no way to make that flight.  However, there is also a morning flight, at 7:30...

So here I am.  I've spent the night in an airport before, and this probably won't be the last.   It ends up being about a sixteen hour layover; I've had worse.  And after all, I'm saving money...

I've been to this airport before, last summer for my flight down to Phuket.  I know there's a Subway and Krispy Kreme in here...but they are after security, on the way to the gates.  Sigh.  Why do they put the good stuff in there where you don't have too much time, and out here where I'm spending hours, it's nothing but fried and greasy versions of local food?  Oh well, something to look forward to.  I had dinner at one of the restaurants up on the balcony overlooking the check-in area.  Feeling a bit nostalgic for the Thai food I ate down south on Ko Phi Phi last summer, I ordered Shrimp with fried rice, and some spring rolls.  Now usually Thai food is good, but as I said this was the greasy version.  The shrimp weren't bad, really, but still one of those things that you know as you're eating it that you'll probably regret it.  

After eating (and before the dodgy shrimp took effect) I followed signs to an "observation deck."  It turned out to be an leftover hallway with some scattered seats, but it did have windows that overlooked one of the runways, and it was quieter up there than down in the main seating area. It was also a bit cold up there, with the air conditioning working a bit too well for once, but I figured that was probably good for me to start adjusting back to winter.  I sat and played games on my kindle and watched the planes take off until the sky turned pink and then black and the moon rose. 

Come Full Circle

Sitting on Kuta beach, waiting on sunset, just as I did nine days ago...I started and am ending my time in Bali here in Kuta, like most people, as the airport is here, and as it's the most popular tourist destination in Bali.  I like it well enough but a couple of days spent here has been more than enough.  It has a nice enough beach, although nothing special, really, and all of the tourist amenities-there's a Hard Rock, Pizza Hut, and McDonalds right behind me.  Kuta is famous, really, for its surfing and late-night partying, both of which I feel too old for, so I guess that's why it doesn't keep my attention longer.  It's a good place to stay to get to the airport, though- I can see the end if the runway sticking out into the bay from where I sit. 

One improvement is that I certainly feel better this time around. I still have a bit if a cough, but nothing compared to what it was, and I have a somewhat normal appetite back and thus more energy.

I came out here to sit on the beach a little before five. I thought about going swimming a bit earlier; I had enough time but I wasn't sure I really wanted to get so sandy and waterlogged again, and have to carry damp, salty clothes home. Now that I an here looking at the waves, I'm rather glad I didn't-the waves are rather high. The only people more than about ten feet out all have surfboards.

The beach is crowded as everyone comes out to sit in the sand and watch the sunset.  I brought along  one of the colorful sarongs I bought in Ubud to sit on, and got through a few more chapters of David Copperfield as the sun slowly sank lower in the sky.

The sun finally set, turning the sky pink, although gathering clouds blocked the view of the sun before it quite made it to the horizon.  I watched the changing sky until it was too dark to read any more, and then went for a walk along the edge of the surf, getting splashed a bit by the warm water as the tide was coming in.

I lingered standing in the sand for quite a while, mesmerized by the crashing waves. Far down where the beach curved toward Seminyak, someone was setting off fireworks.  Some natural fireworks flickered in a rising cloud out over the water as sparks of lightning illuminated the clouds. I finally pulled myself away from the hypnotism of the waves and headed off in search of one last gelato.

Sweet Home and Proud Mary

The last two evenings in Ubud I've gone to one of the many dance performances put on every night for tourists, but I decided to take a break tonight. While a good way to pass the evening in a country where everyone seems to go to bed early, tonight's offerings sounded quite similar to last night's, and while I enjoyed it, at an hour and a half long I found that the dances went on and on for several minutes past interesting. Don't get me wrong; I enjoyed seeing them and I'm not complaining; it's just that last night's were quite repetitive and I found the first ten minutes of a twenty minute act to be sufficient to get the idea.

Anyhow, I guess most people pass the part of the evening that they aren't at a show having a leisurely dinner, but while I have mostly gotten my appetite back, I've gotten into a routine of having toast at the homestay in the morning and then a large meal around two, so as to be in the shade in the hottest part of the day, and then just a gelato break before the show in the evening.

I had my gelato break early today, so I spent nearly three hours at an internet cafe trying to get caught up on my blog; I might have stayed longer but I finally got fed up with the internet going out every half hour. I definitely won't be going to that place again. 

Still a little early to head back for bed, I stopped along the way at this place, attracted by the live music.  Two older local men were set up with their guitars, and they were playing classic rock.  The singer has a deep gravelly voice that disguises his accent.

I ordered a drink and found a comfortable spot in front of the fan, and felt right at home as they played the opening bars of Sweet Home Alabama.  That was followed by Pink Floyd, and then Proud Mary. 

I did smile, though, at the set up: they had pulled the restaurants pink high chair between them with their picks and controls for the amp on the tray and their beers in the seat. Whatever works, right?

Even here...

...there is a Starbucks.  I used to think McDonald's was everywhere, but goodness, Starbucks are spreading like kudzu here in Asia. Even here in Ubud, surrounded by rice fields, a Starbucks has sprouted. 

I probably should have stayed out in the name of protesting corporate takeover and the distraction from local business...but they have good wifi and, I hoped, air conditioning.  (Meh. Very weak air conditioning).

At least this is one place in Indonesia to get away from smokers-there aren't many. I did have a fuzzy feeling of affection for Starbucks for this little sign.

Back to Bali

I had planned to stay two full days, at least, on Nusa Lembongan.  Then again, while it was a nice island, it just didn't quite live up to my expectations.  Honestly, going to the beach on a Thai island last summer has probably ruined me to all normal beaches for a while; they all seem bland and boring compared to Ko Phi Phi.  But then again...Bali is so hyped.  Everyone I talked to said, "Bali! It's amazing! You'll love it!", and every guide book and travel book touts it as a paradise on earth.  I know a big part of my apathy is my lingering whatever-weird-illness-this-is, but honestly I'm just not seeing it yet.  Maybe I've just been to the wrong places, but the sand is coarse and neither white nor black (although I did see some black sand, or rather, dark gray, from the bus on the way to Denpasar).  Here on the island, the swimming area is way over on the other side, and the water outside the bay was so rough I got seasick going snorkeling.

I didn't want to do any further snorkeling, not if it involved getting into any more small boats.  My plan was to rent a scooter and take myself over to the swimming beach for a while, and then poke around the island a bit and maybe find a nice place to watch the sunset, if it happened not to cloud up by then as it usually seems to in the rainy season (another disappointment...the sunsets I've seen haven't lived up to the hype of Bali's famous colorful sunsets, either.  It's mostly been hazy).  But I still just felt...tired, apathetic.  Yet again I felt like maybe, maybe it wasn't just illness's effect, but the place that was boring--if I just moved on, in the next place I'd feel alive again, would be so wonderful that I'd feel like enjoying it.  So I scrapped my plans for renting a scooter.  After a day and a half, I was tired of sand.  Tired of water.  Tired of the heat (the air con was rather pathetic).  I got a ticket on a boat back to Bali. 

Once back on the larger island, I got a taxi up to Ubud, a fairly small town that is the cultural hub of Bali, and its second-biggest tourist draw.  This was the place that had intrigued me most when planning my trip to Bali; maybe here I would find what I was looking for.  

Sunset on Lembongan

I thought while still on the boat returning from snorkeling that I was going to go back to my room, flop on the bed in the (weak but at least better than outdoors) air conditioning, and take a long nap.  I felt terrible, and exhausted.  But by the time we got back to shore and I walked back down the road to my homestay, I was feeling much better, and not in the mood to go in just yet.  So I kept walking past the gate and right on out to the beach.  I saw a couple of other people go for a quick swim down there, despite the boats, and I really didn't care any more if I was weird for swimming there or not.  The same old guy was holding down a bench under an umbrella at the hotel with the beachfront grounds, and he encouraged me further, telling me where to leave my bag so it wouldn't get wet (which was very kind of him, and as it turned out, very helpful, as the tide was coming in and it would have gotten wet if I'd put it where I otherwise would have).

I waded out into the water and spent a pleasant hour bobbing around.  There was a bit of an undertow, so I did have to keep an eye out on where I was so as not to be washed up against any of the boats.  Frankly, it's a bit boring to swim alone with no one to talk to, as there weren't many waves there (inside the breakwater) and no where to go, so it was just floating around, but it felt good to laze in the water so I stayed quite a while.  Finally I drug myself out, just in time to catch my flip-flops before they got washed down the beach by the tide, and headed back to the homestay.  I still wasn't really ready to be out of the water, but needed a change of scenery, so when I got there I dropped my bag in a chair by my door and got directly into the pool.  There was a ledge just right for sitting on in the corner; if there was somewhere comfortable to put my head, I think I could have taken a nap right there in the water.  Every now and then I would leave my perch to swim around the pool.  I stayed in until not only my fingers but my entire hands and feet were wrinkly.  

After thus thoroughly soaking myself, I went in and showered (the coldest water of the day, incidentally), and finally surrendered to that nap that I was thinking of earlier.  I slept most of the afternoon.  I thought I'd probably missed it, but I drug myself out to walk back down to the beach to see if there was any kind of sunset, and arrived at the perfect time to see the sky go pink.  It wasn't the greatest sunset I've seen, but it was nice, and I stayed sitting on a concrete ledge and looking out over the water until it got dark.  The locals were busy as darkness fell--they were doing some sort of fishing or seaweed-collecting, and as it got darker, I saw their spotlights come on from their little boats as they moved slowly around the calm water of the bay inside the breakwater.  

A Walk on the Beach

After checking into a "homestay" (that seems to be the popular word here, but whatever you call it, hotel, guest house, losmen, whatever, they all seem to be the same thing), I thought I'd go for a swim.  The ocean was tantalizingly close; I could see a little piece of it just at the end of the little dirt lane that the homestay was on.  And it really was that close...but there was no one swimming when I got down there.  There was a tiny area between anchored boats, but that was the rockiest area and didn't look like the best spot.  Well, maybe down the beach a ways...

I walked around the beach, curving around almost to the end of the small island, but along the beach there were now the homes and fishing equipment of the locals.  A few were out collecting a particular kind of seaweed that washed up, storing it in big woven baskets.  The sand here is rough--it's still got a lot of shells and bits of coral and all that haven't yet been worn down into grains.  It was a beautiful sunny day and a nice walk on the beach, but nowhere that seemed like a swimming area. I finally turned back. Almost back to my little lane, I ran into a friendly local sitting in the shade and chatting with the few passersby, and he said that I  could swim there; it was safe and there weren't any rules against it, but it seemed a bit weird to swim among the locals' boats, and no one else was around, so I just went back to the hotel.  The lady there told me that the swimming areas were on the opposite shore of the island, and really too far to walk--I'd need to rent a scooter to get over there.

I was tired and hot by this point, and it was getting later in the day, so I didn't want to go too much trouble.  I enjoyed my walk on the beach (other than sweating in the hot afternoon sun), but decided to stick with the hotel pool for that afternoon.  And it was lovely.  

Wahyu Homestay

Once I got off the boat on the beach of Nusa Lembongan, I asked for directions to a hotel listed in the Lonely Planet.  My usual source, hostelworld, had only one listing on the island, and apparently it was already full for the night, or the website just wasn't getting along with the wifi I had, or something like that.  Anyhow, there seemed to be plenty of places to stay, so I wasn't too worried.  And even if this one in the Lonely Planet was full, at least it should be in a convenient area, so I could just find a nearby one.

So much for that...I don't know how the Lonely Planet person found this place; they had to pass dozens of others on the way.  Anyhow, after a long slog half the length of the island in the middle of a hot afternoon (how I enjoyed the little bits of shade I found!), I did find the place, down a little dirt path running down to the beach.  Of course, it was already full, and it looked like they were doing some remodeling, anyhow.  There were two or three other places on the same little path, though, so I ducked into the next one I came to, the Wahyu Homestay.  They had a small pool, tiled in a brilliant blue and with a running fountain, and a shady restaurant area near the gate.  I asked to see a room, and was surprised at how cheap it was...100,000 Rp for a fan room, and 150,000 Rp for an air-con room.  As I was sweating profusely, I immediately opted for the air-con--50,000 Rp is only about a four dollar difference.  

I asked to see the room, and was led to one with a double door leading right out to the pool.  Inside it was clean and colorful.  I had found my spot on Nusa Lembongan.  

Waiting for the boat in Sanur

I'm moving on from Kuta-as I rather expected, it was loud and touristy.  Not that everywhere isn't going to be touristy, but hopefully elsewhere there won't be quite so many hawkers incessantly trying to sell something.  Besides, I'd like to see a beach that's not in a big city. 

So I am sitting in a small shelter on the beach in Sanur, waiting for a boat that should leave in twenty minutes for Nusa Lembongan.  Nusa Lembongan is one of three islands in the Nusa Penida archipelago, just off the south coast of Bali. The description in Lonely Planet sounds like just what I'm looking for-white sand beach, blue water, a view across the water to Gunung Agung, a mountain on Bali, and good snorkeling in Mushroom Bay. 

So, here goes nothing. 

Losmen Cempaka

Due to both the bad wifi in Java and the nature of places-to-stay in Bali--I haven't found any real hostels; it's all "homestays" that have cheap single rooms--I didn't book ahead for anywhere to stay after leaving Yogyakarta.  Bali is enough of a tourist destination that there are plenty of places to stay, at varying levels of quality, anywhere you'd want to stay, and it being the off-season, I wasn't really worried about finding a place.  Upon arriving in Kuta after sharing a taxi with three other travelers (a Finnish couple and a French guy) from Denpasar, I followed the advice of Lonely Planet and struck off down a street with several listings, knowing that where there was one LP-listed hotel, or losmen as they are called here in Indonesia, there would be plenty of unlisted ones.  I wandered down Jl. Poppies II, one of the tourist drags, crowded with losmen, restaurants boasting western food, and souvenir shops with increasingly obnoxious proprietors, and of course the guys at every corner repeating the same chorus, "Transport?  You need transport?  Taxi?  Lady? Yes transport?" that would very quickly be grating on my nerves.  

After a bit of wandering, I found the place listed in Lonely Planet, but typically they were full already, but as I expected, there were plenty of places around.  I ducked into one across the street; they only had fan rooms left, and as I was nearly soaked through with sweat from carrying all my belongings through the afternoon heat and humidity, I decided to keep looking.  The guy from that place, though unasked, appointed himself as my helper and drug me into the neighboring places of his friends, since he couldn't help me.  The next place, like his, only had fan rooms left; the second was too expensive, but the third finally worked out.  They had an air-con room, albeit with only a cold-water shower, but that didn't sound like a problem as hot as I was at the moment (why does going somewhere hot always sound like such a good idea when it's cold at home??).  

The rooms of the Losmen Cempaka ran in a line down either side of a green jungle of a courtyard, with a temple like shrine across from me.  Each had its own tiled section of porch out front, and the air conditioner was so new it still had a tag hanging off.  The bathroom was a little odd as half the floor was covered with a layer of white rocks, but I figured that just made it interesting.  For my two nights in Kuta, it turned out to be a comfortable and cool oasis.  

Ferry to Bali

Those of us continuing on to Bali had assumed that, as we'd already gone two days without an air-conditioned vehicle, and wasted a lot (okay, two) extremely early mornings looking at the inside of clouds instead of volcanic views, surely this last leg of the trip would at least maintain the same standard of mediocrity, not get worse...

As usual, we were wrong.  In the little town on the coast near Ijen where our group split to go our different ways, the six of us (me, the Swiss couple, a Chinese couple from Beijing, and the Japanese guy) continuing to Bali were crammed onto an already overflowing public bus, with two seats on one side of the aisle and three on the other.  Small windows up near the roof were open, which was only helpful when going a certain speed.  Other than that, it was again meltingly hot, sticky, and so crowded that we had to complain to the conductor that we'd paid way too much money for tickets not to get a seat, at which point he managed to shuffle around a few bags and make his buddy move to stand on the steps so that we could all cram in.  

I expected this to be absolute misery, as I knew we had to cross the ferry, and then it was three or four hours, I wasn't really sure, on to Denpasar.  However, we were closer to the ferry than I thought, and the fuss over seats turned out to be rather a waste of time.  We moved five minutes down the road before pulling onto the dock and directly onto the ferry.  At that point, inside a ferry, the temperature inside the bus became unbearable, so most of us decamped to the upper decks, where at least there was fresh air, if you could manage not to sit by anyone smoking.  A few locals, used to the heat, did stay on the bus to nap on the empty seats.  

I went up to the top deck and found a shady seat next to the Chinese couple.  While still hot, at least there was the occasional breeze as the shore of Java grew smaller and smaller behind us.  The crossing didn't take too long; maybe forty-five minutes if that; you could see Bali hazy in the distance from the port.  Just before arriving we all filed back down the stairs and reinserted ourselves to sweat on the bus.  Fortunately, not everyone returned--apparently for the locals, a place on the bus is just the way onto the ferry, and they weren't continuing on to Denpasar.  It was still fairly full, but not maddeningly so.  I managed a window seat this time (not that it helped much), with a mother and little girl next to me. 

And on we went.  The scenery along the way was beautiful--maybe Bali really would be the wonderland and paradise everyone had made it out to be: on the left, brilliantly green rice fields dotted with thatched-roof huts stretched across the field to the feet of distant volcanic mountains.  On the right, there were frequent glimpses of beaches and blue water reflected the nearly cloudless sky; I was excited to see that some of the beaches were even volcanic black (okay, really dark gray) sand.  Alongside the road, locals gathered at wooden stands selling piles of durian and coconuts.  Surely now that I was out of Java, I would feel better and my energy would return; who could be apathetic in paradise? 

On the Bus Again

When everyone finally wandered back to the van from the rather useless slog up to the rim of Ijen's crater, we all piled in for the last leg of our trip.  When organizing the trip, there were three possibilities offered--you could be returned to Yogyakarta, be dropped off in the city Surabaya, or taken to the ferry to Bali.  I, of course, had chosen Bali, as the whole trip for me was just a way to take the scenic route getting there.  I mean, as it turned out, it was mostly not terribly scenic and rather long, hot, and miserable at points, but it did get me there, eventually, and I did see a whole lot more of Java than I would have if I'd flown.  I mean, I could have taken the twenty-six hour direct bus, but even so it would have been dark through most of the interesting parts, and that just didn't sound like fun at all anyhow.

The last one back in the van was Maryam, and she hopped in with her to-go coffee--in a baggie, with a straw sticking out, which is a weird but not unheard of to-go method for drinks here in Asia.  You'd think cups wouldn't be that much more expensive, but...well, like many things in Asia, it may not make much sense to the American mind, but I suppose it works.  We did take a few photos of the coffee-in-a-bag just for the novelty, though.  

Normally I prefer to go it alone rather than joining a group, but occasionally it can be fun as a single traveler--at least I have people to talk to for a day or two.  Most of us were traveling alone, or in couples, so we ate a couple of meals together and enjoyed the company.  I mostly talked to two other single travelers, Maryam from the Netherlands, who I met in the hostel in Yogyakarta, and Ronni, a British girl who is also teaching in China, although in a kindergarten instead of a university.  We also spent some time with a Swiss couple, a Japanese guy, and an Indian guy who lives in Singapore.  

Ijen Plateau

As far as scenery goes, Java's thing is volcanoes.  With 127 active volcanoes and plenty of remains of volcanoes from the past, there are plenty to see: Merapi, one of the most active in the world, near Yogyakarta, which has been erupting frequently for years; Bromo with its barren moon-scape slopes; Krakatoa, the big one that supposedly made the loudest sound in modern history (heard 3000 miles away) when it erupted in 1883; Tambora, which caused the Year with No Summer in 1815. I saw two while I was in Java, Bromo and Ijen. 

The Ijen Plateau is a region of Volcanic hotspots in eastern Java; the main peaks are Ijen, Merapi, and Raung.  Ijen has become a fairly popular place for travelers as it's possible to hike up to the rim of the crater, and look down over Kawah Ijen, a lake that has formed in the crater, at just over 7000 feet.  Around the lake, vents cough out sulphurous smoke; sometimes the lake even boils when the volcano is particularly angry.  

Another interesting thing about Ijen from the Lonely Planet: "Around 300 collectors (all men) work here, getting up at between 2am and 4am to hike up to the crater to hack out the yellow stuff by hand.  For most the only protection against the cone's noxious fumes are the cotton scarves they tie around their noses.  These DIY miners then spend the next six or so hours scurrying back down the volcano with loads of 60kg to 80kg on their backs. It's incredibly tough work that pays very little (around 600rp [five cents] per kilogram), and yet the physical exercise keeps the collectors incredibly fit- few report health problems, despite breathing great lungfuls of sulphurous fumes virtually every day of their lives. Ijen sulphur is used for cosmetics and medicine, and is added to fertiliser and insecticides. Historically, sulphur was commonly called brimstone.  Some of the miners achieved local celebrity status after appearing on the BBC's landmark Human Planet series."

Some people go on a night hike into the crater; the sulphur-vents burn blue and give an eerie light.  The smell of sulphur is so strong and the volcanic gases burn people's eyes and throats, so most people wear some sort of gas mask. While seeing the blue lights is supposed to be an amazing experience, I didn't even think of going on that little adventure. First of all, we had just had three hours of sleep the night before, so I really wasn't in the mood for an all-nighter, and second, it's highly recommended that anyone with respiratory problems not go into the crater, and I figured my bad chest cold counted. 

For all those who chose not to go on the blue-light hike, we again were up at 3:30 and left at four for a hike up to the rim. I started up the wide, hard-packed dirt road to the crater with everyone else, but I told them not to wait on me and soon fell behind.  Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been too bad, but while my chest cold seemed to be getting better, or at least migrating into a head cold, the afternoon before, during the night it settled into my chest again.  It's hard to hike up a steep hill when you can only take shallow breaths. And besides, it was quite foggy; the trees along the path blurred in and out of the mist like wraiths.  I don't like to be a quitter, but it was obvious that there wasn't going to be much to see in these clouds, and getting out of breath was making me cough too hard to go on.  

After about a kilometer, I turned back and headed for a little shelter I had passed a way back and set on the concrete step and began writing this post (although I didn't finish; I am wrapping it up sitting on the beach in Bali). After a while a girl from Jakarta came along and sat down while waiting on her friends to catch up, and we chatted for a while. I did see some of the sulphur miners come by with their loads of ghastly yellow chunks. A couple set their baskets by the side of the road for a bit, and I got a closer look.  The sulphur really does have a strong smell of eggs.
 
After a while, I wandered back down to the parking lot, bought some strawberry juice, changed from my nasty hiking shoes into flip-flops, and waited for the rest of the group to return.  It turns out I made the right decision to turn back; as I had thought, there wasn't much to see in the fog at the top.  As soon as everyone straggled back to the van, we were off again. 

Nope.

I've traveled enough to have some consideration for other cultures and all, but I do draw the line at going barefoot into a public restroom. I didn't really need to go that bad.

Gelato!

After I finished my ride on the Singapore Flyer, I wandered around the shops and restaurants around the base.  I walked in a circle to read all of the signs telling the story of the race across the river that decided the twelve animals of the Chinese zodiac-turns out mine,the rat, was the first, which I never knew. 

As I came back around to the side near the bay, I caught sight of a colorful stand called Gelatissimo.  The signs promised real Italian gelato, but I was sceptical.  I've heard that before, and utilities never is. The "gelato" at the mall in Wuhan is tasteless and grainy.  But I walked over anyhow, and the ice cream really was mounded up, with bits of fruit stuck on top, just like the real thing. It was a bit expensive, but I decided to take a chance and splurge. 

Heaven.  It really was...the best gelato I've tasted since leaving Italy.  I got my usual favorite combination of chocolate and strawberry, and it was perfect. I sat and ate it as slowly as I could on a warm evening; the perfect ending to a pleasant day of sightseeing. 

Singapore Flyer

It seems that Singapore is a city that comes to life after dark. There are concerts in the amphitheaters on the promenade alongside the bay, a light show near the flower-like museum alongside Marina Bay, a light show at the Gardens by the Bay park, and of course the Singapore Flyer.  And that's all just around the bay; there is also a night safari out near the zoo, and I'm sure plenty of other things.  

For my first evening, I decided to view the lights of the city from above, on the Singapore Flyer.  The Singapore Flyer is a giant ferris wheel, currently the tallest one in the world at 541 feet, at least until the new High Roller wheel opens in Las Vegas next month.  It takes about half an hour to go all the way around in one of the 28 capsules.  While it runs all day, too, I wanted the night view, so I went up a little after nine in the evening.  It was very similar to the London Eye, which I went up in years ago, and did give a great view, although I do wish they would clean the windows a bit better, or at least that people would have the sense not to touch the glass, as some smudges in places made it hard to get clear pictures.  Anyhow, here are some pictures of the view from up there.  

The Merlion of Singapore

After leaving Hard Rock, I figured I'd better hurry up and get back to sight-seeing.  Have to fit in as much as possible in my two days!  So, I navigated back through the underground shopping mall (there seems to be as much shopping under Orchard Road and on it) to the subway and headed downtown.  I got out at Raffles Place, and again found myself in an underground shopping mall.  Goodness, if you like to shop, there are layers of it in Singapore.  I came up to air in the midst of towering skyscrapers with signs for corporations and bank headquarters, and the occasional ritzy hotel.  I was a bit disoriented at first but soon found a street sign that I could match on my map, and struck out for Merlion Park.  

Merlion Park is right on the edge of Marina Bay.  It's a rather nonsensical statue, with the head of a lion and the tail of a fish, hence the rather obvious and unimaginative name of Merlion.  Odd as it is, it's become popular as a symbol of the city, and it seems half the postcards from Singapore feature it. Apparently there are five around Singapore; two here in the bayside park. It's become a mascot for Singapore as, according to wikipedia, the fish tail represents the city's humble beginnings as the island home of a tribe of fishermen, and the lion as the Malay word Singapura from which Singapore is derived means "Lion City."  It's such a tourist fixture that they've built a viewing platform out over the water so everyone can get the obligatory photo of themselves in front of it (here's mine--oh, and there's my new Boston Terrier bag; isn't it cute?  Although actually not the wisest choice ever--pleather is rather hot to carry when it's humid, and it's just a bit too small and unstuffable, but I'll manage).  

Hard Rock Singapore

As I seem to write every time I go to another Hard Rock, it does seem to be a contradiction of the usual backpacker indie-traveler creed, going to such a commercialized and western restaurant.  I ought to be eating local street food for the cultural experience and all.  And I do that, too, but Hard Rock is my guilty pleasure. I justify it since I live in Asia, I deserve a western break now and then, and they really do have the best onion rings and often the only really southern bbq pulled pork available.  Actually, the picture doesn't look all that great, but it tasted good. 

Anyhow, by now it's a tradition, anyhow.  I found the Singapore Hard Rock off the end of Orchard Road, the famous shopping street.  It was a bit noisy at first as some corporate group was having a luncheon meeting complete with silly contests to see which group could dress up one of their male members in a wig, skirt, and high heels the best.  Thankfully they finished up not long after I got my food, and the music came on.  

Orchard Road

After my wanderings through Little India, I hopped a subway to Orchard Road.  Orchard Road is the most famous shopping street in Singapore; the whole way is lined with malls and upscale markets and ritzy restaurants.  I stepped off of the subway platform into a vast underground shopping mall; as I followed the signs through the maze of shops trying to find daylight, I passed something beautiful: a Krispy Kreme.  Now, we have our Daylight Donuts in Wuhan, which is okay, but not as good as Dunkin' Donuts; Dunkin' Donuts can be found in major cities in Asia (but not Wuhan...), but Krispy Kreme...by far the best donuts in the world, far above Dunkin' Donuts and in another category completely from dear old Daylight.  The only other one I've seen in Asia was in the Bangkok airport.  Of course I had to get a couple; the opportunity was too good to pass up, even though I didn't want to ruin my dinner.  

Near the Krispy Kreme I finally found an escalator going up, and came out into this gilded courtyard, surrounded by Armani and Versacci and all the rest.  I sat on a little ledge and feasted on my donuts, looking around at the opulence.  Consulting my map, I took a detour off a side street from Orchard Road to find a shopping mall known to be cheap and frequented by locals that my hostel receptionist had marked out for me.  I was in desperate need of a new bag, as my beloved back that survived India and Yunnan and all was nearing its end...I had already had to sew the strap back on, the zipper had come off completely twice, and the fabric in the back was worn so thin that a hole was starting.  

I spent a pleasant couple of hours shopping and not buying much.  They have such adorable little sundresses here, in such fun fabrics...too bad that, like in all of Asia, they are all a size 2 (or smaller).  And they had such cheap shoes...but of course, women's only up to size 40, and I wear a 42.  Sigh.  Such is life for an American in Asia...this is why I've bought so much jewelry and hair accessories over the last couple of years; it's the only thing that fits.  I finally bought a bag; I'd seen a similar one in China some time before and thought it cute--the front of the black pleather bag is overlaid with white so that it makes the face of a Boston Terrier.  Just like Jack, the little dog my grandparents used to have. 

After completely exploring every corner of the five-story mall, I headed back down Orchard Road.  The other bonus to coming to this part of Singapore:  Hard Rock.