Kiasu Cowboy

10 pm monday 11 october 2010 calabai

Bernie Baskin — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 11:44:22 +0000

What an inspirational day! We woke in Dompu early and were out on the road again with little time wasted. We ventured back towards Alas. After turning off towards Kilo (a tiny village nestled deep in a cavernous jungle valley) we began a winding series of steep ascents and descents down into the mountainous region surrounding Mount Tambora. [Tambora is a famous volcano responsible for causing the "year with no summer" in 1816 after a famous eruption in 1815 that was the largest eruption recorded history and caused the worst famine of the 19th century. I was especially interested in visting Tambora after reading a little about its history. You can read more here.]

The first few kilometers towards the coast were great roads (I’ve made some videos). Tambora sits way out at the end of a peninsula that juts off of Sembawa, and our plan was to drive the long way around towards Calabai by skirting the peninsula. After a few kilometers, once we reached a stunning sea view, the roads became a gravelly mixture of sand and rock – our speed dropped to a crawl and we petered along on extremely difficult paths the remainder of the day. We both had a very hard time keeping the bikes upright in the shifting sand and volcanic gravel mixture. Nash set his bike down twice over the course of the afternoon and my bike nearly went down numerous times. I look back and am shocked that we didn’t get seriously injured. [The only injuries we befell during the entire trip were a cut toe from stubbing a toe on a rock (Nash) and a scraped ankle from coral (me). To say the least, we were ridiculously lucky on the hardest day of motorcycle riding I've ever done.] The path mildly keeps to the coast, though at times the sheer difficulty of the landscape dictates that the path will take a precipitous drop at an angle that was so steep we had to walk down our bikes inches at a time cradling the brake like a dangerous animal’s collar.

Coastal road near Tambora

Tambora – this is a stunning large volcano, we’ve been told that the entire top came off at once – spewing out earth, fire and rock that cooled the earth in 1815 so much so that there was no summer that year. Everywhere on these islands there are massive volcanic bolders and millions of bits large enough to stop a car cold. We traversed this scenery for the entire day on dirt and sand paths. By 2:00 pm we came to a crossroads and met two men from Java who were writing a book on Tambora. We spoke to them about the area, tried macadamia fruit dipped in spicy salt (bitter, makes your mouth pucker). When we pushed on towards Calabai, we came to even harder roads to traverse. We finally reached Calabai around 4:00 pm where we promptly met Amin, the local school teacher and his lovely wife. They introduced us to Amin’s father and mother who run a small guesthouse for traders coming through the area – how fortuitous. [I look back on this as complete luck. Nash and I weren't even sure if we were in Calabai at first. It's not like there's a giant welcome sign. We drove around asking people where Calabai was - they looked at us like we weren't speaking their language ... wait. Eventually Nash spotted the water and we just aimed for it. Amin's house is literally where the road dead ends into the water. Fortuitous.]

Amin and his wife. The white paint on her face is to lighten her skin.

I am writing from the floor of this guesthouse. I learned to shower from a bucket by sitting on a mini-stool and pouring water over myself. The water is cold … damn cold. The toilet works the same way. Yes – soap is the answer. [Looking back I have to say the trip was mildly unhygienic... who'm I kidding - I wiped my ass with my hand. Nevertheless, I will say that people in Indonesia are remarkably hygienic to the extent that their surroundings permit. I never once felt like I would get sick from the food I was eating and the showers were abundant. By abundant I mean to say that there was usually some degree of running water and either a bucket or hole in the wall spraying water around.] Amin speaks a bit of english and so it was up to him to introduce us to the village of 500 people. It’s a tiny fishing village – many of the men stay overnight on fishing sampans out in the sea. We’re told the last time the village had a non-Indonesian guest come through was two and a half years ago. As you can imagine, we were the talk of the town. We had dinner and a guitar sing-a-long with some of the local boys who are very talented. We also managed to arrange a boat for tomorrow to the island of Palau Satonde (an uninhabited island just east of Calabai), and Palau Moyo where we’ve heard there is a famous resort. This village is beautiful and quiet – we walked home tonight through the streets, most of the houses had their lights on and tv playing [shockingly!] We learned that motorbikes only arrived here in Calabai five years ago and cell phones only three years ago. Before that it must have been a very different world. I’m totally exhausted. -b

6:30 pm sunday 10 october 2010 dompu

Bernie Baskin — Thu, 28 Oct 2010 15:55:43 +0000

We had multiple wake up calls this morning. Sigh. At 5:00 am the Muslim call to worship woke me for about 20 minutes of chanting (although Nash apparently unbelievably slept through it). Then at 7:00 am breakfast was delivered to the room, though we told them to return later, once we were awake. At 7:30 am they returned with breakfast and Andrew begrudgingly took the food and tea. I didn’t budge. At 8:00 am the hotel began constructing doors outside our room – and the power sanding equipment brought me out of my sleep and to the door where I yelled for some peace and quiet. At 8:30 am the sanding began again. The sun rises early in Indonesia – no later than 5:30 am and it sets early also. People start their days early. Breakfast was some rice dish steamed in a banana leaf. I would have once thought that odd – but after living in Vietnam I’m used to such breakfasts.

We checked out of the hotel quickly after breakfast and were on the road as soon as possible, hoping to push across Sembawa to the far eastern coastal port town of Sape. Within an hour of departing we came across the Green View Resort – a lovely (if not strangely so) small resort that appeared so out of place, we had to stop. The hotel is two months old and staffed by about 25 people – we didn’t see a single guest. We enjoyed ginseng coffee in a small pavilion overlooking the sea and tried to determine the rest of the trip – which didn’t really happen. [I later learned that the "resort" was actually just a restaurant. We presume that the idea was to create some tourist infrastructure to compliment the spectacular Amanwana Resort located on Palau Moyo, just across the strait from the "resort". At one point we contacted Amanwana to see if it would be possible to drop in, but turns out the resort costs around US$800 per night! There's nothing else on Moyo besides some EXTREMELY rural villages so I presume Amanwana is mainly used by the rich and famous as a retreat away from celebrity life.]

Back on the road I saw an enormous python squished on the road. We drove hard all day, stopping for lunch in a small dusty hamlet of which the name escapes me. There’s no real reason to go there. All I recall are tremendously friendly but dirty children and a market that would make the most die hard traveler squirm – flies flies flies … and more flies. After a short video that I made with the camera it started to rain again. Hard rain. Maybe this will be a reoccurring theme. [We later realized it was. Best to wake early and travel during the morning and early afternoon. The late afternoon often brought rain to the interior of the islands due to the volcanoes. The only places it didn't rain were on the coast. I later researched and learned that as warm air from the sea rises towards the volcanic peak it cools and condenses into tiny water droplets. These are later released in the form of rain around a volcano. We learned this on our trip over and over and over.] Although it only rained for an hour, we were still dripping wet when we pulled into Dompu hours later. The rest of the drive to Dompu was scenic and magnificent. Winding mountain roads teeming with monkeys and jaw dropping plunging cliffs that tipped down to azure water and small sandy beaches with only local fishermen around.

Mountain Ride

Initially we considered reaching Sape today, but by the afternoon the hope was only for Bima. By sunset Dompu sounded about as good as anything. We were road worn, wet and hungry when we reached Dompu. We did manage to find a small guesthouse for RMB 55.000 and settled in. I’m exhausted but full. The night market here is not bad – we tried some form of Murtabak which is essentially a thick pancake filled with sugar, peanuts and spices. Absolutely delicious. [Over the course of the trip I ate pleeeennnnty of Murtabak Terang Bulan ("full bright moon pancake"). It became a signature dish for me during the trip and I would later learn how to make it. I am now considered the Murtabak King in at least one tiny town in Lombok. Here's to the King.] We also settled into a small restaurant near the hotel that served traditional food. Fried tempeh is still one of my favorites. Tonight as we drift off, the music coming from a nearby wedding is wafting into the room. Goodnight. -b

9:22 pm saturday 9 october 2010 (sembawa)

Bernie Baskin — Thu, 28 Oct 2010 15:53:58 +0000

We arrived in Lombok right on schedule and quickly set off towards Mataram, the capital city to find an ATM and some well deserved coffee. It didn’t take long to arrive (around 30 minutes from the ferry). We settled into a roadside coffee stand for coffee and met a man who spoke pretty decent english. Turns out he works for a nice hotel chain in Lombok. He gave us some directions to reach the other side of Lombok where the port is located. We set off. No more than 15 km into this leg of the trip the rain started in – and didn’t let up until we were on the ferry to Sembawa. Andrew exclaimed that it may have been some of the toughest (and probably most dangerous driving he’s done – I tend to agree). For two hours straight we rode through the drenching-sprinkling-drenching-sprinkling rainshowers. I more than once considered pissing myself rather than stopping in the rain – I doubt anyone would have noticed if I did – but I refrained. In fact, I seriously doubt anyone would have noticed – it was almost as if I was swimming through Lombok. Along the way we encountered three musical and dance processions – no clue what they were all about. The ride was long and I was glad to be back on board a dry ferry at 6:00 pm.

The ferry to Sembawa was quiet (minus the live entertainers who sang and put on some sort of a comedy show for money). By the time we arrived in Sembawa, Nash and I were both on the brink of utter exhaustion and still soaking wet from Lombok. We considered trying to push on deep into Sembawa to a town called Sembawa Besar – a 72 km ride from the ferry town of Poto Tono, but by the time we reached Alas after 20 minutes of driving we were too tired to go on. We settled into a small guesthouse on the edge of town which is where I am writing this. We have no sheets, no aircon and plenty of mosquitos, but otherwise it’s comfortable enough. Time for sleep. -b

12:19 pm saturday 9 october 2010

Bernie Baskin — Thu, 28 Oct 2010 15:04:49 +0000

The boat lists endlessly on this water. I’m sitting on the third and top floor of our ferry from Bali to Lombok island in Indonesia. At 7:00 this morning after a sound sleep we woke to greet the day and to collect my motorcycle. Last night I arrived in Denpasar, Bali at midnight – a two and a half hour flight from Singapore. Nash met me at the airport and we quickly sped to Senur on the southeastern coast of Bali.

First morning motorcycle through the window.

The hotel was directly on the beach (though it’s one of these cheap travelers lodges that really shouldn’t be considered a beach resort). Within an hour of landing we were comfortably settled with beer in hand chatting on a little wooden platform overlooking the sea. A fisherman quietly cast nearby.

After collecting my bike this morning (a 200cc Honda Tiger) … at US$9/day … we blasted off towards the Bali ferry terminal about 60 km north of Senur. The road winds through lovely flora with the traditional Balinese architecture that is so reminiscent of India to me (or at least how I imagine how India would look). It’s an otherworldly sort of drive – volcanoes on the distant horizon, young ladies dressed in traditional sarong wraps carefully laying out tropical flowers as offerings to demons to stay away, terraced rice paddies and always the smell of cloves from the local kretek cigarettes that the men always seem to be puffing. We arrived at the Bali ferry at 9:40 with 20 minutes to spare before the next ferry (they run hourly). For roughly US$10 each we drove onto the ferry and parked beneath, near two enormous trucks and a shipment of baby chickens chirping away madly (I have no clue what they are for). We’re told the journey to Lombok is four hours. Once there we think it may be possible to drive clear across Lombok in about 2 hours to the next port, where we hope it is possible to settle into another ferry crossing to Nusa Tenggara. Though no one seems to have heard of this island – so we are not sure yet whether Nusa Tenggara is more of a collection of islands or province. At any rate, the plan so far is to get as far out as possible by nightfall (and then possibly more tomorrow) before turning around to meander and explore our way back to Bali. We’re not committed to any one plan though so it is unclear what will actually happen.

I do know that right now the bikes are strong and my belly is full (from a fish caught by local guys off the ferry as we sail) and the mountains of these islands we’re passing by rise up and are majestic and terrifying against this turquoise water. And the diving of the dolphins out here reminds me of my lurching excitement towards the unknown. -b

on the plane to bali …

Bernie Baskin — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 12:47:33 +0000

After a long day of flights to Singapore and banking matters in town, I got to relax with Yvonne for dinner at our favorite seaside hawker center (and I finally got my oyster omlette)! Oh how I’ve missed the Singy cusine! It’s 8:50 pm Singapore time and I’m now boarded and set to depart shortly to Bali. Since Nash and I did not have a set place to meet, I was getting a bit nervous about how I would find him, but earlier I received the following email:

Got a room on the beach & bikes:

Kesumasari Beach Pondok Wisata, Sanur

62-0361-287824

Our friend at the hotel, Budhi, will be meeting you at the airport tonight.

As you were, sir.

… and so it begins! All is well. I have no clue what bikes are in store right now but I can’t wait to see the hogs we’ll be taking on this next journey!! Suppose I’ll find out sooner rather than later. More to come … -b

PS: I have a great new bookmark now!

My new bookmark.

vroom … day one

Bernie Baskin — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 01:07:36 +0000

Day one. And so it begins again. For readers of this blog you may recall that last year in August I met up with my close friend Nash for a motorcycle journey around nothern Vietnam – specifically from Hanoi to Sapa. If you’re not familiar with that trip – go back and read about it before going forward. At the conclusion of that trip, Nash and I decided that it was too good to do only once and we set about planning for the next one. About 8 or 9 months ago we started chatting about the next trip. Somewhere along the way we settled on riding the mountains of Sumatra (far western Indonesia) but one month ago we learned that one of the volcanoes on Sumatra had recently errupted, scattering thousands of residents. That fact coupled with the realization that it would be challenging to find reliable motorcycles for that route led us to consider riding the volcanoes of Nusa Tengarra (far eastern Indonesia). And so it begins …

Today I’m flying to Singapore for work, but tonight I am departing for the island of Bali (two islands west of Nusa Tengarra) where I hope to meet up with Nash around midnight at a hotel that is still as of now unknown. We’ll collect ourselves over some drinks and plan out a route taking ferries and fishing boats and whatever it takes to arrive at this most remote location. I’ll know more later. But for now I’m sitting in the HCMC airport with my coffee thinking about the days to come. More soon. -b

Helmet, coffee, passport, sunglasses ... check.

the electricians

Bernie Baskin — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 13:34:25 +0000

Anyone who’s been to Saigon (or read my February 2009 post “saigon, or, the art of motorbiking”) will understand my fascination with electrical wiring. Here in the city of a million motors (more like 6 million motorbikes actually), one of the strangest sights is the overhead electrical poles – strung with millions of miles upon miles of useless wire. It seems like every time a power outage occurs, the first thing that happens, is the electricians come and string up NEW wire, without removing the old corrupted wire. The city has started installing massive central power stations to consolidate some of this mess, but you’d hardly notice the change. Just look above you. So yesterday I was walking on the street and saw a funny site. Apparently someone high up in the HCMC power world told someone lower than them that Thai Van Lung’s electrical poles needed new wiring – completely new wiring. My guess is that the investors in the new condo building at the corner of Thai Van Lung and Le Thanh Ton have some powerful friends. So there I am standing in the street as hundreds of miles of wiring was just removed (showering down as motorbikes zipped among the ruins and cars dodged hay-bale size colossuses) and replaced by tiny spindly men standing on bamboo ladders wearing motorbike helmets. Two of them were kind enough to pause for a picture. I love this city! -b

The Electricians. Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam 2010.

playing the saigon ponies

Bernie Baskin — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 13:47:13 +0000

It’s a great outing, but Saigon seriously has a long way to go if it wants a legitimate horse racing circuit. Way out in District 10 is the Phu Tho Horse Racing Club. A decent enough track bounded on one side by a battered Soviet Bloc style building that was apparently supposed to have the feel of a French villa to it. Not so. It costs 50 cent for entrance.

The place teems with elderly Vietnamese men and little children (the only women around are tending to the manh mi stalls). It’s not particularly crowded, and the sight of a white man and asian woman walking together draws (not so friendly) stares. I approach one man cautiously to ask him what race is up next. ”Number 5″. He walks off. Another man, younger, approaches me. He says in Vietnamese, “next is race number 6″. I thank him and retreat to wonder why the earlier man lied. It’s 2:00 pm.

Phu Tho Saigon Horse Racing Club, September 2010

We didn’t bet on race 6. Instead, we just wanted to check out the horses and generally take in the atmosphere. Here’s my personal take. (1) the horses aren’t horses – they’re tiny ponies (2) the jockeys are children (3) the ponies are incredibly slow (4) the men watching the race look like they’re going to rob you if you’re not constantly watching and (5) no one gives a shit about the races. For race 6, we literally stood directly at the finish line … we had plenty of room … no one crowded us. In fact, there wasn’t even a crowd. A brief swell in volume accompanied the finish, but the hoofs weren’t even audible amidst the near silent crowd – they’re that small and slow.

Child riding a pony, September 2010

We bet on the 7th race. Minimum bet is 10,000 VND (50 cents). We bought a race program and flipped to the 7th race – the predictions were set out, number 1 through 4. Approaching the betting gate is a bit like approaching the DMV. They aren’t enthusiastic – and they sure don’t give a shit about a white guy betting. I assume they think we’re all cheapos just looking to make fun of their pony show. Um …

I told the woman in Vietnamese I wanted to place a 10,000 VND bet on Monika to win (accepted). Then I wanted to place another 10,000 VND bet on the top 3 predictions. Nope. I was told that of the four “horses” predicted to place, the only one that was actually racing was Monika (who was predicted to win). Um … I cancelled the second bet and just went with the obvious choice. It paid off. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t surprised to see Monika tearing down the track in front. It was almost sad. We won 2,000 VND (10 cent).

Yvonne, 2,000 VND winnings

Now, I’m not saying I didn’t have fun. I loved the experience. I’m just saying that the ponies don’t put on much of a show. You have to bring that yourself. Anyhow, if you want to visit – here’s the map. -b

the past few months (a recap)

Bernie Baskin — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 15:56:33 +0000

Ok, here goes. This is a recap of some of the things I haven’t written down over the past few months, some places I’ve visited and thoughts that have been on my mind. Let me start with this one … the first few months living abroad are difficult. Not so difficult that you want to pack it all in and go home, but difficult nonetheless. The next few months after those first few are a bit strange, because you actually begin to settle down and you realize you’re actually living abroad. And then afterwards strange things happen. For example, I think Ho Chi Minh City is a rather clean and organized place (screetch, cars crash and babies start crying). Yeah! I know, right? I can’t say it’s been all fun and games, but I’m actually loving life right now (reminds me of Kyle … “I love my life I love my life” … inside joke). And this might give you some idea of why.

When I last left you, I was on the train to Sapa. Well, as always Sapa doesn’t disappoint. Tell me this doesn’t get your blood moving …

Sapa, Vietnam

That was taken from the side of the road, looking down into the valley at all the farmers planting rice. Nearly every picture I took was like that … it’s just a stunning place to visit. Highly recommend everyone try it at some point.

Then I picked up a pink linen suit (custom tailored) for my friend Thao’s birthday party

Are you kidding? Yes, that's pink linen with a silk white bowtie

Then … I won an Iron Chef competition at my neighbor’s house. Ingredients: pomelo and avocado. I made a chilled avocado soup with pomelo, then a hamburger dish and finished it off with a pomelo cheesecake with avocado whipped cream. Champion. Eat it.

Iron Chef Championships, HCMC Vietnam

Try this on for size … my friend Annabel came to visit Vietnam and we bounced around the center of the country with my two close friends Thao and Bao. Stayed in a restored 1920s French Villa …

French Villa, Dalat Vietnam

… played in the mountains …

Friends in Dalat, Vietnam

… sipped freshly made soy milk in the markets of Dalat …

Fresh soy milk, Cho Dalat

… took a sweet ride to the Whale Island Resort …

Boat Ride to Whale Island Resort (near Nha Trang, Vietnam)

… waded in the warm waters of the South China Seas (East Sea in Vietnam) with crabs and tiny tropical fish …

Whale Island Resort, Central Vietnam

And all this is while working full time, developing my skills with Vietnam’s laws and building a social circle of some damn fantastic people! Much more to come. For those readers who’ve been with me sine the beginning, get excited. Nash and I are about to depart on our annual motorcycle trip. This year will be through Indonesia – though we haven’t yet nailed down exactly where we want to head (it’s either Sumatra or Lombok/Tennagra). Much more to come. And my apologies for my silence of late. -b

been a while … yeah i know

Bernie Baskin — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 02:55:32 +0000

I realize it’s been a while since I last posted. I intend to post more as soon as I can figure out why I’m having trouble logging onto my blog. In the meantime, happy mid-autumn festival to everyone! I spent the holiday on Luong Nhu Hoc Street (which is lantern street in HCMC). The street was packed with throngs of people buying lanterns and noisemakers. I caved in and did the same thing. More to come. Stay tuned. -b

Mid-Autumn Festival (i.e. Lantern Festival) in HCMC (22 September 2010)