Thought I set my alarm. Surprised to hear Alexy knockin' on my door early morn but, sure enough, it's past six. Must've forgotten to hit "ok" on the phone. No matter.
Passion fruit at breakfast. Thought it might just be a different type of orange, tried to go at it with just fingernails but no. Must use knife. Inside is a goopy mess of seeds which disintegrate with minimal crunch. Good for spreading on toast.
Ten minutes drive takes to the base of Gunung Wawo, a volcano that erupted as recently as 2004. An hour trek through misty morning yields mediocre views of a muddy crater and their sulfur lakes. Despite the less than spectacular scenery it was nice to get away from humans for a bit. Just when I was beginning to enjoy the serenity the local guide's cell phone starts playing some atrocious auto-tune electropop. Is nothing sacred? I hate to interfere with this dude's listening pleasure but propriety forces my hand. As polite as I can muster I request he silence the infernal racket.
Back at the base Alexy scoops me up and we speed off towards our next destination, Kampung Bena. The real name of the place is Txena (ok, try to bear with me on this one: pronounced with a "t" sound followed immediately by a "kh" [that unusual sound not used in our language but that results when attempting to draw phlegm from the back of the throat]), a village that notoriously maintains ties to animism, ancestor worship, and its monolithic past. Along the way we rock out to such luminaries as Manu Chao, Led Zeppelin, and the always appreciated James Brown.
Bena certainly had its charm. I was expecting something more impressive when I came across "monolith" but setting up those rock formations must have most certainly required some team work. The subtle yet prevalent shrines and fetishes dedicated to the ancestors were enchanting. Tradition certainly thrives here, even as modernity continues its relentless spread.
Lexy is eager to make his hometown. Quick pitstop to a rather banal waterfall before taking to the onslaught of switchbacks. At the falls the ruins of a failed spa type construction stand out among the creeping jungle flora. Some might find this sort of scene disturbing but I rather like it, the vestiges of a forgotten civilization. Simultaneously haunting and sublime.
The road to Moni yields splendid scenery. At times a frothy white river plunders the depths of an impossibly steep ravine. Elsewhere placid patties of emerald green are revealed. Always, everywhere, verdant. Flores is lush!
So we've parked for the night in Lexy's point of origin, Moni, a wee catholic town that likes to get down for Xmas eve. A posse of homeboys invites me into their drinking circle upon my arrival. Vile arak, I can only palate so much. I promise to join them later but require a shower and a nap first. I awaken to a dangerous display of fireworks. The crew has departed, perhaps for the best. Not sure I'm in the mood for an Indoparty at the moment, but I'll let you know when I am.
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