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.

102nd Floor

The picture says it all. Greetings from a fog-filled Hong Kong, been gloomy, foggy and drizzly all weekend, but for now. Will finish up the Medan write-up, I promise!

Remiss in duties

I admit, I have been remiss in my duties, and for a period have neglected to finish my adventures on Medan with SSM and Samwise. I promise, I shall complete it, most probably during my flight to Hong Kong.

Busy would be an understatement, as in my view, if one is to do something, one will make time. Alas, laziness took over amidst all the travels.

So, right now, I am briefing you over a session in the lounge, waiting for my flight. Updates further in Hong Kong.

Medan - Lake Toba: Day 4 Part 1

Pine & paths in Tuk Tuk

My waking hours vary, and it can get quite peculiar when I’m on vacation. Suspecting that dawn on Lake Toba would be a stunning affair, the idea of watching the sun rise, framed by the caldera and reflected by the lake waters, of course I would instinctively wake up early to catch a glimpse.

Up at 5am Western Indonesian Time, I ended up rolling in bed a while, wondering if I can sneak in an extra 15 minutes snooze, despite slowly waking up. After 15 minutes, I got up, put on a long sleeved shirts and shorts, armed with my PlayBook and camera, and went out to snap away.

Dawn in Lake Toba, facing Tomok

5.30am on Lake Toba can be quite chilly, and with the weather looking cloudy, dew all around and a slight wind-chill factor, I was wondering for a moment if I was in New Zealand or an Adelaide suburb in winter. That early, few tourists were up, and the locals took this as an opportune moment to go about their daily business quickly before everyone else peers through with curiosity.

Walking to a tip of the Tuk Tuk peninsula, it took a while before the sun rose in its full glory. It took a while, I must add, but the play of light and darkness, the multiple shades of blue and grey, pockmarked with orange, looked surreal. Just behind the caldera, the clouds started to resemble Ceiling Cat, playing hide and seek.

Dawn in Lake Toba, note cyclist & Ceiling Cat's silhouette

When the sun lit the silhouette of the caldera edge, it was all worth it. To add a human dimension to the scene, a cyclist happened to chance by at the edge, a lone traveller up to watch the sunrise with me. I’d later see him again, cycling as if he was cycling off road, the typical Caucasian adventure traveller, doing some action sports.

Moor or Lake Country, it is still Samosir Island

Breakfast was a simple affair, a fine continental buffet selection with extras of fried rice and noodles. Following which, Samwise and I were itching to go to the waterfalls nearby, an idea I embedded in him since yesterday. SSM was not in a hiking mode, hindered by his footwear, so he opted to stay back, roam around the village and look out for moped rentals.

As Samwise and I hiked across the village, towards the paddy fields and jungle beyond, we caught very interesting scenes on the way. A mother cat successfully catching a fish from the lake to feed to her kittens, and group of tourists on a small grassy knoll, taking pictures and blending in with the lambs, as a serene-looking buffalo watched us walk by, chewing cud while surveying his domain.

Looking towards Lake Toba

The map which we obtained from Tabo Cottages naturally had its limitations. We did a little trailblazing of our own through grassy fields and small settlements, and tried to figure out where the right turn after the gas station was, as there weren’t any gas stations on this island per se.

Paddy fields & placid buffalo

Eventually, we followed our instincts and our sense of orientation, with full view of the waterfall in the distance, and found a path leading through a settlement leading off the main path right after a bridge.

If you’re curious to head to the falls, follow this route: from Tuk Tuk, go straight towards ‘Tomok’ until you see an intersection that points to ‘Ambarita.’ Go left and straight on until you pass a river. At the river, you will see a small settlement and a path on a rise on your right. Turn right and go straight. At this path, you will see another junction. Turn right, go straight 150m then turn left along a dirt path. The path leads straight to the falls.

As we went along this path, we encountered a group of Americans, 2 guys and 1 girl. They turned back because the path was very steep. Samwise and I, in our gung-ho ways, waved them past as they wished us good luck. We found their ‘steep’ path, which wasn’t very steep at all, perhaps a medium incline.

Path & 'steep fall'

Onwards we went, occasionally scaling up rocks and up the slopes where we encountered another group. This time, 3 guys and 1 girl, all Germans. They told us they were turning back because the path was narrow and had a very steep fall on the side, and was obscured by vegetation and filled with rocks. Samwise asked if they saw any bodies down there. Baffled, they finally understood his humour and wished us good luck.

Waterfall, first level

We went along the path, and it was not as narrow as the Germans said it was, thought the fall did look somewhat steep. However, we heard gushing water up ahead, and that was all we needed to hear to spur us on.

We reached the first level of the falls, filled with boulders and the start of the stream that eventually leads to the road and lake. Scrambling up, we reached the second level, which had a small pool, but teasing views of the lake from behind the vegetation. Despite the large boulders covered with moss, I did not want to be outdone by Samwise scaling further up, with him noting that the fall proper was ‘just behind that rock.’

Scaling further up, using roots and vegetation as leverage, we reached the third level of the falls and were rewarded with a magnificent view. There before us was a grand gushing waterfall from up above the mountainside, a narrow knife slicing through vegetation; simply stunning.

Samwise at second level

Third level, fourt level barely discernible at top

We joked that we, the Commonwealth, succeeded, where Nato forces had to turn back.

I however, did know my limits, so when Samwise said he wanted to scale further up, against near vertical walls, I politely declined, deciding to savour the waterfall and views that were already presented to me here.

Falls leading to second level from third

Third level in all its glory

He went up, and just as I was about to soak in the pools, I heard a thud. He fell, in dramatic fashion. All in one piece despite a few bruises, he was adamant not to let nature get the better of him. I wished him good luck, telling him I’ll be heading down shortly, and that he’d be fine catching up with his usual ‘controlled tumbling’ maneuver down hills I’ve been accustomed to seeing.

Tuk Tuk peninsula from the waterfall

Samwise eventually reached the fourth level, and was rewarded with stunning views of the island and the lake, albeit even he finally reached his limitations, and decided against going further up to the headwaters.

Wtaerfall in the distance, the thin glistening sliver

As I made my way down, I took a leisurely stroll, enjoying the view from the top. Good way to start the day, I must add. Though from up there, the view of the lake did tempt me to pick up a paddle and drag a kayak out to water. Samwise, ever the adventurer, was game, when I told him of my little idea.

Up next: mopeding along the shores of Lake Toba.

Medan - Lake Toba: Day 3

Day 3 and the crux of our little adventure began. Having checked out of The Aryaduta, we made our way, on foot, to the Medan Railway Station. It is a fairly short 10 minute walk away, and it was not as if we had a choice. Tall SSM, me with my rucksack-turned-duffle bag and Samwise could in no way squeeze in to a becak.

'Business Plus' Medan - Tebing Tinggi

Though it didn’t stop Samwise from suggesting we get our own individual becaks and race to the railway station!

At the station, we saw a taxi rental counter, and SSM and I inquired if we could get a taxi onwards from Tebing Tinggi. Sadly, we couldn’t, as it was the Muslim festival of Eid, and no drivers were available. The lady did say we should be able to find transportation at Tebing Tinggi.

On the train, I was set for a shock. We booked business class seats, expecting nice comfortable seats, air-conditioning and the works.

Air conditioning units in carriage

We boarded a somewhat dusty looking carriage in the front, right behind the locomotive. It didn’t look like business class, I can tell you that much. The seats were not the plush individual seats but padded benches. The air-conditioning was in the shape of individual air-conditioning units, and not a centralized mechanism as I was led to believe. Windows were not so much frosted as covered with dirt and grime, obscuring what panorama we had outside.

“Must be their of Business Class,” Samwise said. “No free wifi,” he added.

Oil Palm plantation along the tracks

We got comfy in our seats and got ready for the trip ahead. As was reported by a few trailblazers before me, the trip out from Medan towards Tebing Tinggi was indeed brisk. We passed traffic along the main trunk routes, paddy fields, flood plains and a general sense of flatness. At one point, we spotted a small church, steeple prominent on the horizon, in the midst of rolling paddy fields.

Despite the carriage, it was still a nice way to travel: a feeling of space and not being confined on the road. Best of all: no traffic.

Vendors boarding at Tebing Tinggi

We left Medan at 1030 sharp, and arrived in Tebing Tinggi just after 1215. Once at Tebing Tinggi, we sought out our onward transportation. A becak driver spotted us and offered to drop us off to a driver. Problem was, it was three grown men, each with somewhat large bags, to be squeezed in a moped with attached sidecar.

Of course, the ever ingenious found a solution. I ended up pillion riding behind the driver as SSM and Samwise were squeezed in the sidecar. Not as bad as it sounds, and definitely a fun albeit shocking experience.

The driver had a brand new big black Toyota Avanza, complete with plastic wrapping on the seats. It looked as if it was fresh from the factory. He offered us 600,000 rupiah for the journey from Tebing TInggi to Parapat, a sum which we, in hindsight, should’ve bargained.

Paparazzi training on a moving moped

However, it was on a very big public holiday in Indonesia, and we expected a premium charge. Plus, it was a brand new car, so we didn’t think much of it.

The journey took us another 2 hours by road, passing paddy fields and small settlements, before we stopped at Pemantang Siantar for a late lunch. Pemantang Siantar is a large market town, the last major stopover before Lake Toba. A nexus of Batak food, we feasted on an almost impossibly varied variety of pork, from roasted and grilled to minced and diced, cooked in a variety of styles.

Our journey continued up the highlands, watching vegetation and terrain change from the fertile flood plains to lush mountain forests. Just as we were getting used to the winding road hugging the contour, we were treated to a dramatic entrance: the woods and hills parted to reveal the immense size and beauty of the lake.

The drive down along the ridge was breathtaking, hugging the shore. We saw the occasional restaurant or café hugging the ridgeline, jostling for a spot to view the lake, but it was surreal. But for the mopeds and occasional ramshackle construction, the views would not look out of place in the New Zealand fjorlands.

Samwise & the boats

We arrived at Parapat just in time for the 1530 boat to Tuk Tuk, the main tourist stop on Samosir Island. The ferry was a quaint little thing, with regular boats departing every hour from 630 to 1830 from Parapat.

On the boat, which thankfully had an open deck, we saw the breath taking scenery around us. Before us were rolling green hills, clouds hugging the peaks, the pristine beauty of the lake, all with a slight dose of the residents going about their daily life. Sitting on the top deck with unobstructed views, for a moment, I felt like Elizabeth Taylor’s 1965 Cleopatra calling to port in Tarsus.

End of Papapat peninsula, Lake Toba

Approaching Samosir Island, I noticed that a few of the ‘larger’ hotels were filled with families, children playing around and being, well, noisy kids. No bother. On Samosir Island, we went straight to Bagus Bay Homestay, which when I called, was the only place on the island where I could get rooms for the two nights we were staying.

Alas, they double booked, and despite my reservation and their confirmation, they let my room out for our second night, so we only had one night at Bagus Bay. Samwise was good for staying in a room with shared bathroom facilities. Despite that hiccup, Bagus Bay was decent, with the staff asking us multiple times if we wanted magic mushrooms.

'Mainland,' Lake Toba

After settling in, Samwise and I were itching to do stuff. SSM was happy to lounge around with his book. I wanted to go for a stroll around Tuk Tuk and get acquainted with our surroundings while Samwise wanted to go for a run. Again, they only had rudimentary maps.

Walking around, it is a quaint little village, with people going about their daily business, seeing tourists as curious onlookers, and wish you a good day as you pass by. I read of a waterfall behind Tuk Tuk, and that was reason enough for me to be itchy and search it out. After inquiries, I was told it was a good 1-2 hour walk from Tuk Tuk. Not a problem.

The three of us met again for dinner, and Samwise suggested a place I heard of and passed during my walk. He suggested it because he saw the word ‘German Bakery.’ Alas luck was not on our side: Tabo Cottages, would not be ready for us until 2 hours later, unless we wanted their pre-made roast chicken. We bid them good night, vowing to return for breakfast the next day, and sought out a few Batak restaurants in the main part of the village.

Multiple ways to consume mushrooms

We ended up at Franky’s, a small family-run establishment, which was packed to the rafters, and the owner-bartender-waiter was going helter skelter while his wife-cook-waitress took orders. Despite the chaotic scene, the family maintained a jovial atmosphere, and we spent a good part of the evening there, with dishes of succulent pork, fresh fish and pizza which had the option of ‘magic mushrooms,’ all downed with beer, tea and civet cat coffee.

Books, maps & 'shrooms

'Mainland' at dusk, from Tuk Tuk, Samosir Island

 It was a mood that set a setting for the next few days in Lake Toba.

Medan - Lake Toba: Day 2

Government Building, seen from the Aryaduta Medan

Medan is usually overlooked, usually associated with images of chaos, dirt, and general traffic mismanagement; nothing more than a stopover on the way to Lake Toba or the Sumatran Rainforest World Heritage Site.

With such an image in my head, and many travel forums advising that there is little to nothing to do in Medan, apart from food, I went in with a fresh slate. Felt like the modern equivalent of an explorer in the mid-18^th century vising alleged backwaters. I was ready to be surprised by this former Dutch colonial trading post.

After breakfast, SSM and I went to the Medan Railway Station to buy our tickets to Tebing Tinggi. There were only two classes of travel: Bisnis and Ekonomi. Cost us 120,000 rupiah for a one way ‘Business Class’ ticket from Medan to Tebing Tinggi.

Maimoon Palace frontage

Following which, we decided to walk around a bit, since it was just 10am Western Indonesian Time. I planned to visit the residence of the Sultan of Deli, the Maimoon Palace, a 20-25 minute walk from Lapangan Merdeka, straight down along Jalan Ahmad Yani.

This palace was built in 1888, designed by a Dutch military architect for the Sultan of Deli. The sultan is now a nominal sultan, with little power. Cost 5,000 rupiah per person per entry, and you can see what was once the elegant palace and a centre for the social scene of the Dutch plantation owners, colonial administrators and local elite.

Plaque in Dutch, palace built for the Sultan of Deli

When we were there, so was a rather large tour group. Easily 40 odd people, and they were jostling around, noisy, each clamoring to take a picture near the throne, with their children running around the hallway. In short, being your typical tourist. Yes, excuse my traveller elitism.

But once you look past all the chaos, you will notice the intricate beauty of the structure: the inlaid marble, the painted walls, the intricate carvings, and the unique blend of Malay, Dutch and Moorish architecture that permeate the verandas and rooms.

Intricate inlays on the ceiling and arches

The sultan and his family still call this palace home, and the two adjacent north and south pavilions are still their residence. If you look closely, you might even catch a glimpse of them going about their daily lives, oblivious to their visitors.

Across the street is the Grand Mosque, or Mesjid Raya. This was also designed by the same Dutch architect, with a heavy Moorish influence but Southeast Asian colour aesthetic. Entry is via donation, and don’t be alarmed by the somewhat rough old lady who mans the counter and wraps you in a sarong.

Mesjid Raya, note the Moorish elements

Architecturally, it is a simple structure, but the stained glass and ornate carvings along the portico do lend the building a very regal appearance, despite its size.

After which, we walked back to the hotel, but taking a different route. A slight detour along Jalan Mesjid, further up north and parallel to Jalan Ahmad Yani, this street does have its share of surprises. There is a simple mosque tucked away in the corner, with remnants of former handsome shopfronts and offices lining the street.

Details of facade and stained glass of Mesjid Raya

Nowadays, it should be aptly named ‘Motorcycle Street’ or ‘Mechanic Street,’ and I do not mean that in a derogatory way. Along this stretch, many mechanic workshops line the street, with motorcycles and their rides waiting their turn for a tune-up. A very human side to a rather forlorn looking city.

Further down, we saw a truly dilapidated structure. It might have once been a meeting hall, a warehouse, or a smart office building for a trading company. Now, you can see what it once was: a beautiful albeit forlorn building, dirty with cracking paint and broken windows, and remnants of former political party offices along the sides. Former glory, hidden away.

We again spent the afternoon lazing by the pool, relaxing on the terrace before we heard the start of chaos. There were two kids running around, and we decided to go out for some afternoon tea. When we came back to our terrace, the pool area was filled with kids, screaming and running and playing. Gone was our quiet afternoon by the pool.

Just as we were about to head out for dinner, Samwise called. Now, Samwise is a guy who lives life one day at a time, rarely planning ahead, and always up for an adventure. He was meant to go to Rangoon, but visa complications meant that he couldn’t board his plane.

So, with knowledge that I was in Medan about to head for Lake Toba, he called asking if he could join in. I said yes, and in a matter of hours, he was in Medan, ready to embark on an adventure.

North residential pavilion, Maimoon Palace

Throne Room, Maimoon Palace

Prayer hall, Mesjid Raya 

Minaret, seen from portico of Mesjid Raya

Jalan Masjid building

Lawyer's offices, off Jalan Masjid

Forlorn building off Jalan Ahmad Yani

Inside the forlorn building

Hall in the forlorn building

Arch detail from forlorn building, note the word
'Merdeka?' or 'Independence?'

Muslim revellers, drums and a modern interpretation
of the call to prayer

As SSM and I walked down Jalan Ahmad Yani, hoping to catch the Kesawan Square food stalls that open at 6pm, we ended up on a detour on a little bistro along the street, distracted by the sounds of drums and chantings, with revellers in their open back trucks looking very festive, gearing up for the Muslim festival of Eid Il Fitr, the end of the fasting month.

After dinner, SSM and I went to the train station to get Samwise’s train tickets, and on the way, fronting the entrance to Lapangan Merdeka, we spotted many revelers along the street, their trucks parked on the roadside, ready to celebrate.

However, what got me curious was what was blasting from their stereos. It was a rather peculiar sound.

Imagine the Muslim call to prayer, infused with trance beats. Yes, it was a pop-version of ‘Allah is Great, Allah is Great, there is no God but Allah.’

When Samwise arrived, the three of us went down to Merdeka Walk for food and drinks. As we had fried noodles and rice with a few bottles of Bintang beer, SSM got what he wished for.

When we saw the open-back trucks, he made a comment that the floats were Medan’s version of Rio’s Carnival, only without girls dancing on top. He wished to see girls covered with their burkhas and headscarves dancing on top of the floats.

Sure enough, there along Jalan Balai Kota, in front of us along Merdeka Walk, were a few trucks, with girls clad in headscarves and burkhas standing and waving at the crowds, with the disco Muslim call to prayer in the background.