Medan - Lake Toba: Day 4 part 2

[This is a continuation of Medan Day 4, after a rather long and uncalled for delay in continuing the story.]

Having made my way down from the Tuk-Tuk waterfall, walking leisurely on down past a few rubber trees, I decided to wait for Samwise, who was somewhere, up there, by the waterfall. As I soaked in the green and pondered the meaning of life, the universe and everything in it, all of a sudden, I heard a few thuds coming downhill.

View from the top, the lake down below

*thud thud thud*

It was Samwise, doing his trademark rolling down the hill. He caught up with me, and both of us, still in a state of adrenaline, decided to do a light jog back in to ‘town.’ On our way, we passed by a few houses and the junction that lead to the waterfall.

There, the eccentric man of the house was observing us, as he was tending to the washing while his young daughter was playing outside. All of a sudden, he spoke to us, his Indonesian thick with the local accent.

Now, I understand Indonesian, enough for conversation and just enough to strike a few deals. What this man said, and I shall translate, made little to no sense unless he had birds eavesdropping in the jungle.

“Can you speak to United Nations and ask them to build a road?” He said that while pointing to the path with an expectant look.

I replied, telling him we’ll do what we can, and we left him, looking disappointed. The daughter on the other hand, had another thing to say, referring to us: “Babi!” Then she cackled, hysterically.

‘Babi’ is Indonesian/Malay-based languages for ‘pig.’ Now, Samwise and I are by no means pudgy. We may be a bit bulky but we are not pudgy. I told SSM and he laughed to no end.

Following this shocking statement by a little girl who only a few hours ago was as friendly as little curious children could be, we made our way back to town, where SSM has mopeds ready. One for me and him, the other for Samwise. I opted against a moped as I am hopeless on a bicycle, let alone a motorized one.

Samwise & The Moped

Samosir Island is a wonderful island, and a large one while we are at it. A lack of taxis is one thing, the distances another, and it would be very difficult to traverse it by bicycle, let alone on foot. With moped in tow, we embarked on our adventure along the shores of the lake. First stop: the stone chairs.

Brings a whole new meaning to 'petrified to stone'

Yes, stone chairs of Ambarita. It sounds rather mundane, yet somehow the image of stone chairs arranged in a circle has a rather Stonehenge-Lord of the Ring-Council of Elrond feel to it. It was just the next town up, and soon we found it, in a nondescript part of town, fortified with Cyclopean structures and not looking out of place in the English countryside.

Batak structures by the Stone Chairs

There, we found a few traditional Batak-style houses, a tree, and the stone chairs. These chairs were apparently the ‘Seats of Justice’ for the kings of the Batak, who passed on judgment on the usual misdemeanors, as elders and a few stone faces looked on at the accused.

'The Stone Chairs of Ambarita'

Surrounding it were a few structures, one being a museum of sorts, and a few raised tombs of the kings and members of the royal family. And of course, becoming of a tourist attraction, there was a small ‘bazaar’ selling the usual trinkets.

Lake shore, volcanoes in the distance

Following Ambarita, we decided to further explore the northern shore of the island, and after hinting at the boys of a hot spring just beyond that bend and over the hill, they were dead set on finding it. Luckily, it was a fairly easy ride, with the lake on one side, the plains on the other, and the great volcanoes just beyond.

Dormant volcano, next to the hot spring

One interesting thing about this island which we noticed during this ride was the predominance of religion in the community. There was a church, nay, a chapel, every 100m. In the middle of a field, you would see a church. By the shore, a church. At a major intersection leading to the isthmus, a massive cross. Be it Dutch Reformed or Roman Catholic, they were serious church goers.

Samosir Island in itself isn’t exactly a proper island. It is connected to the ‘mainland’ by a relatively narrow isthmus. That isthmus had a channel dug through it in the early 20^th century by the Dutch to assist with navigation, with a bridge connecting both ends. However, by now, the channel seems to have silted up, maybe due to agricultural activities, maybe by neglect.

A short hop from the isthmus was a ‘private’ road that led to the hot springs. Now, entry is via toll, and the hot springs at first, seemed like it was free use. So, after parking our mopeds, we sought out the first hot spring, which was conveniently, all located next to each other and was by the shore.

We found one, with a private cabin, and we picked it. It was somehow how I imagined the Japanese hot springs to be, or perhaps the baths in Republican and early Imperial Rome. Of course, we weren’t too sure what to do, or how to dip in. That is, as always, a recipe for entertainment.

'Private Cabin' for stewing

The water was by all means, on the threshold of boiling. It felt scalding. It was not exactly what I had in mind for a nice hot bath. So, the lot of us undressed, left in our skivvies. I was in my swimwear, while SSM and Samwise were in their underwear. Samwise felt like going all the way, stark naked and dipping in. Before Samwise and I dropped our skivvies, SSM had already poured a pail of water over his head, immediately changing our minds. To hell if we had soggy underwear.

SSM’s expression said it all. It was hot enough to boil and egg. Now, I have been to hot springs before, and I must say this is a different experience. The ones in Rotorua, New Zealand stank like rotten eggs from the sulphur. The luxury resort near Ipoh, Malaysia, had an emerald green sheer to it. This was just enough to make human stew.

Glad that Samwise and I did not strip down and boil our bits to kingdom come, we decided to tread carefully. Samwise with an arm in, me dipping my leg in. Good God was it hot. And ideas of course came coursing through our heads.

Shock therapy! Worked for a few Eastern Block countries, it’d work for us! So, I took a pail and poured hot water down Samwise. The look on Samwise’s face after having hot water poured down his back basically said ‘try me.’ The water fight began.

View of the lake from the hot springs

After basically cooking ourselves, we discovered that our session in the hot tub had to be completed with either a charge for use, or a meal at the restaurant. So, there we were, with Samwise looking like a proper red lobster and SSM shifting in his seat with wet underwear, enjoying the trademark Indonesian instant noodle favourite: Indomie.

Pavillion by Tabo Cottages

After our romp around the north shore, we slowly made our way back, just in time for evening drinks at the Toba Cottages. Samwise and I were a little bummed that we couldn’t do our kayaking trip, but I suppose feeling like part of a braised chicken would compensate for an experience.