Sumatra
Medan
After three months back in the UK catching up with family and friends, we were ready once more to hit the road. They say travel becomes addictive — and we totally agree. We weren’t quite ready to return to the grind and daily routine. It would have to happen at some point, but not just yet!
We’d talked a lot about our return trip — where to start, what to do, etc. — and came up with a kind of plan (usually the best kind!). One thing we loved from our first trip was the wildlife, so after doing some research, we decided we wanted to visit Sumatra. We knew this was the only other place on Earth, apart from Borneo, where you can see orangutans.
We’d already seen them in Borneo, so now we hoped to spot them in Sumatra too. The plan was solidified even more when I found out they also have a monkey called the Thomas Leaf — they look like really cool, funky guys! That sealed the deal — the plan was officially in motion.
When we looked into flights, we realised there was no way to fly directly to Sumatra — and most routes involved two stops, making it one hell of a long journey. So, to make things a little easier, we decided to fly back into Thailand. It’s a great gateway into Asia, with a short connecting flight in Hong Kong, and we could spend a few days there to recover from jet lag before heading on to Sumatra.
We’d travelled through Thailand quite extensively on our last trip, but we hadn’t yet visited Phuket. Perfect — it sounded like just the place to chill before the real adventures began!
And that’s exactly how we started. I won’t go into too much detail about Phuket — it was lovely, very touristy, but that suited us just fine. It felt more like a mini holiday: beautiful beaches, a charming old town, and the perfect place to ease back into travel mode.
Our main reason for visiting Sumatra was to see orangutans in the Gunung Leuser National Park. To do this, we needed to arrange a guided jungle trek. I’d been in touch with a few tour companies before leaving the UK, as we wanted to go with a reputable one — which we found! We booked a tour with them and also arranged for a pickup from Medan, which is where we could fly directly from Phuket.
Since Medan is still a 3–4 hour drive from Bukit Lawang which is the village closest to the national park, we decided to spend a night there first. We didn’t fancy a long drive straight after a flight — especially as we’re in no rush. Take everything in our stride — that’s our motto!
Medan isn’t the most attractive place, but we managed to book a nice hotel in one of the better areas. It felt quite colonial where we were, with Merdeka Park just opposite. It served its purpose for a day, and there was even a decent shopping mall across the way, and we needed a couple of bits — getting to it, though, was another story.
The traffic in Medan is pure chaos. Like in a few places we’ve visited, if you wait politely to cross the road, you’ll be there all day. With a bit of timing (and courage), you just have to walk out, hand held up to signal the cars to stop. It’s definitely hair-raising, but honestly, it’s the only way to get across.
Our next obstacle was the train station, which sat between the park and the mall. To get past it, we had to cross two more hectic roads, then a very dodgy pedestrian bridge over the railway tracks. The old wooden planks had been patched up with concrete, but there were still large gaps and holes where you could see straight through to the tracks below — definitely not the most reassuring crossing!
Once safely over, we made our way down the steps into a slightly sketchy-looking street — the kind where you instinctively hold onto your money belt and avoid eye contact.
A group of five lads were jamming on a guitar outside one of the makeshift houses, which looked like it had seen better days. Still, they gave us a nod, and a few others smiled and said hello.
It didn’t feel dangerous, just like the kind of place where Western tourists don’t usually wander through — or if they do, they do it briskly. So, we smiled politely… and kept it moving like we had somewhere really important to be. (We didn’t.)
The funny thing was, just across the street was the huge, modern mall with a high-end department store and lots of familiar shops from back home. The contrast between the street and the mall couldn’t have been more different — so close yet worlds apart.
So Medan served a purpose — we were able to get cash, as the village we were heading to in the jungle doesn’t yet have the luxury of an ATM. At least we could get organised, and we even found a lovely restaurant just a few minutes’ walk from our hotel, with live music and free-flow wine and G&T offers — so I wasn’t going to complain.
Buket Lawang
The following morning, we were picked up from our hotel and driven to the village of Bukit Lawang, which takes around 3–4 hours. It was much easier to book a private car, especially since we’d read that the roads could be very poor in some sections — so at least a decent car would handle the bumps a little better.
As luck would have it, it was a great journey. As we left the city behind, we passed through small villages set in lush tropical landscapes.
Soon, we were driving past endless rows of oil palms — no surprise, as Sumatra is one of Indonesia’s main regions for palm oil production. We saw trucks piled high with oil palm fruit, a clear sign that the industry is the economic lifeblood of many villages here.
But it’s also a major threat to the island’s ecosystems, and a stark reminder of just how much rainforest has been cleared to make way for plantations.
The roads were better than I’d envisioned — there were a few bumpy sections here and there, but overall the ride was good, and we reached Bukit Lawang in under 3 hours.
So that was the easy part — the fun was yet to come. Where we were staying was down by the river, and the only way to get there was on the back of a motorbike, which we later found out was included in the transfer.
The bike Shane was on had the driver balancing his large rucksack at the front, while he carried his smaller one on his back. Luckily for me, I only had to carry my small bag, and another driver followed with my rucksack on his scooter. We made our way — at speed — about 1 km down a cobbled, narrow pathway through the village.
I hadn’t been on the back of a motorbike in years, so I just held on tight. There were a couple of steep sections, both uphill and downhill, but with my trust in the driver, it actually turned out to be really good fun, what a way to arrive at the village!
We had to attend a briefing first with the tour company, who ran through the itinerary and the dos and don’ts. We were then given instructions to meet at 8 a.m. the following morning to start the jungle trek.
We’d chosen to do the 2-day, 1-night trek. They offer a range of treks — from as little as 4 hours to multi-day adventures, including up to 5-day treks that go deeper into the jungle.
With all the formalities done, it was just a one-minute walk to the hotel we’d be staying in — aptly named the Jungle Inn.
Just to give you some brief history about Bukit Lawang — it began gaining international attention in the 1970s. The area’s dense tropical rainforest and rich biodiversity made it a natural destination for adventurous travellers, but what truly put it on the map was the Sumatran orangutan.
In 1973, the Bukit Lawang Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre was founded by two Swiss conservationists. Their goal was to rehabilitate captive or displaced orangutans and reintroduce them to the wild in a protected environment. The centre also helped to educate both locals and tourists about orangutan conservation.
This centre played a major role in attracting early ecotourists and researchers. The promise of seeing orangutans in semi-wild conditions drew people from all over the world.
As word spread, Bukit Lawang developed into one of Indonesia’s most popular ecotourism spots. Local guesthouses, restaurants, and tour operators began to appear along the Bohorok River.
In November 2003, a devastating flash flood destroyed much of Bukit Lawang, including the rehabilitation centre, infrastructure, and dozens of homes and businesses. Tragically, over 200 people lost their lives.
The rehabilitation centre was permanently closed (with rehabilitation efforts moved elsewhere), and the focus shifted from feeding and human contact to responsible jungle trekking in the national park.
Today, Bukit Lawang continues to be a major access point to Gunung Leuser National Park, one of the last places where critically endangered Sumatran orangutans live in the wild — and this was exactly why we wanted to visit.
Our room at the Jungle Inn — and the hotel as a whole — did not disappoint. Set on the banks of the river, in the most beautiful location, with quirky terraces all taking full advantage of the peaceful surroundings.
The wildlife was already there — a family of cheeky macaque monkeys had chosen the surrounding trees at our hotel as their home. Perfect! You know how we love to observe monkeys… though we were given strict instructions not to leave anything on the balcony, as they’ll definitely steal it — ha!
We settled in, made a brew, and were perfectly happy watching the cheeky long tailed monkeys playing in full view from our balcony.
Bang! Bang! — you’d hear them drop onto the corrugated tin roof of our room, then scramble onto the adjacent balcony like they owned the place. At one point, there were a few too many for comfort, so we legged it inside and decided to observe from the safety of the window.
Silly me, though — I forgot my coffee. My travel cup didn’t last a full minute. One of the juvenile monkeys scooped it up, thrilled to lap up the remains of my drink before swinging off high into the trees with it. I had to laugh — if I was going to lose my cup, at least it went to a monkey with excellent taste.
Pretty sure I heard it drop onto the roof a while later… but yeah, that cup’s gone. RIP travel mug. You served me well.
Oh well, that was my brew over — so we may as well go and explore the village.
We found the village to be really quirky, with lots of other guesthouses lining the riverbank. Many had inviting decks and restaurants where you could sit by the water and enjoy a meal, a cocktail, or a cold beer.
It had such a laid-back feel, and the people couldn’t have been more friendly. You felt genuinely welcomed into the village. We’ve found this a lot with the Indonesian people — everyone always seems to have a smile on their face.
We retraced the narrow pathway the scooter had taken us down earlier and came across a small local market selling souvenirs — especially wooden trinkets carved into orangutans — and batik fabric items, which are very popular here. No one was pushy or trying to sell you anything; everyone was just super relaxed and friendly, happy to wave and welcome us as we passed by.
There were lots of bridges crossing the river — plenty of bamboo, dodgy-looking ones, and a few more substantial, newer ones. But even those bounced a bit too much for my liking, so we didn’t cross.
I said to Shane, “I bet we’ll have to cross one of these tomorrow on the trek.” Oh well — I’d cross that bridge when we got to it… pardon the pun!
The evenings here are pretty chilled, as you can imagine. Restaurants don’t stay open super late — although I didn’t check out every single one.
We were starving after our long day, so after a few cheeky beers at a really cool bar, we flopped into a restaurant that was already quite busy — which we always take as a good sign.
We ordered three dishes to share, plus some fried rice. Little did we know, everything came with steamed rice as well! The lady just kept bringing more and more plates — even the fried rice came with steamed rice. Hilarious.
She must’ve thought, what a greedy pair! — and honestly, she was probably right. We ended up polishing off everything except one portion of rice. I don’t think we realised how hungry we were — ha! At least we didn’t waste too much and filled our boots, ready for the trek the following day.
Up bright and breezy, we packed our two small rucksacks with everything we’d need for two days in the jungle — plus a litre and a half of water and all our camera equipment. So, as you can imagine, they were still quite heavy… but hey ho, we couldn’t go without it!
We were given a hearty breakfast by the tour company, then arranged into groups of six, each with two trek leaders.
Our group consisted of a lovely young couple from Moscow and an equally lovely young couple from northwest Spain. Now, do you like how I say young? I bet they thought, oh no, we’re with the old pair — ha!
We just hoped we could keep up! And hey, being young doesn’t necessarily mean being fit… let’s hope we didn’t slow the team down too much.
So, we set off single file back down the lane through the village — and where do we turn off? At the blummin’ swingy bridge… I just knew it.
Shane’s saying, “Film it! Film it!” — but I was having enough trouble coordinating my walk with the bounce, never mind filming it.
I actually braved it and managed to film for a little bit, but then quickly put my camera away to concentrate on crossing the bridge.
Not even started the trek yet, and I’m already a chicken just crossing a bridge!
Once across the bridge, we passed local homes and a few more guesthouses, then headed up some steps.
OMG — if this was how things were going to progress, it was going to be a killer. The steps went on and on, and if we’d come across steps like that on a normal walk, it would’ve been the kind where we’d stop a few times just to rest, catch our breath, and then carry on.
Oh no — not this time. We didn’t have the chance. There was a big group behind us and another in front, so we had to keep going. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths — ha!
Anyway, we made it to the top (thankfully), even though our faces were already flushed and the sweat was pouring off us… and it was still only the start!
Thankfully, at the top, there was a rest point where we could take off our backpacks and rehydrate.
Just as we’d done that, the guides told us they’d been informed of an orangutan sighting nearby — so soon? How amazing!
We were aware that it’s common to see them close to the village, as these are the semi-wild ones that don’t stray far from where they were rehabilitated. Orangutans like this are usually much more accustomed to being around humans.
So, we followed our guides — and there it was: the gorgeous ginger of the jungle.
The only drawback to seeing one so soon was that all the trekking groups had just set off together, so there were a lot of people. Naturally, we all wanted to get closer to witness and photograph the moment.
Most people were courteous, and we all took turns, allowing each other time to capture our shots. We still had to keep a safe distance — and back off quickly if it chose to swing our way!
How totally amazing, though. I know we’ve been blessed to see them once before, but the magic of the moment never lessens. Such a magnificent creature to observe.
Right then — may as well head back now, we’ve seen what we came for — ha, joke! I’ve not seen my Thomas monkey yet… that’s the next sighting we’re hoping for!
Back at the rest point, I happened to ask the guide about our chances of seeing the Thomas monkey (also known as the Thomas Leaf Langur).
Literally two seconds later, he told us there had been a sighting — just behind the clearing! Oh my god, we couldn’t believe it. We walked slowly around, trying not to disturb it, and there he was — the punky monkey, as the guides call them, with their funky little Mohicans. In fact, there was a few of them in the trees — perfect!
The trek was getting better by the minute — we’d already seen the two species we came for.
As well as Orangutan Gunung Leuser National Park is one of the last places on Earth where orangutans, elephants, tigers, sun bears and rhinos still coexist in the wild.
On a two-day trek, it’s highly unlikely you’ll see elephants, tigers, or rhinos. Even on the five-day treks, sightings of these animals are rare. You might come across signs of elephants — and possibly even see one — but spotting a tiger or rhino is almost unheard of.
Tracks are sometimes found, but that’s usually as close as it gets. Apparently, the exact locations of rhinos are known only by the rangers — and for good reason, that information is kept secret for their protection.
We carried on and soon reached the main entrance to the national park. From there, we continued deeper into the thick jungle, constantly on the lookout for more wildlife and insects — and keeping an extra beady eye out for snakes.
In fact, we spotted a snake quite soon — thankfully, it was at a safe distance, coiled around a branch high up in a tree.
It wasn’t long before we saw a group of pigtailed macaque monkeys. They were just strolling past us without a care in the world. It was as if they knew that we are too interested in seeing the orangutan so they are like “don’t mind me I’m only a wee little pig tail”, two were up to no good in the bushes, that gave the group a good laugh-ha!
They also have gibbons in the national park, but they’re notoriously hard to spot.
We heard their loud calls echoing through the jungle canopy, but actually seeing one? That takes serious luck — or really good timing.
Still, we kept our ears open and our eyes scanning the treetops, just in case.
Shane was really hoping to see one in the wild — they’re such beautiful apes, and he was keen to get a good photo. Funny enough, he actually photographed one a few months ago… in Devon of all places — though of course, not in the wild!
As we continued further, our guide was informed of another orangutan sighting nearby.
We quickly dropped our bags — no need to carry extra luggage — and headed in the direction he’d been told.
And once again, there it was. Fantastic! Another opportunity to watch, and of course, film and photograph.
But beyond the camera, we took a moment to just observe — to really watch the orangutan’s mannerisms and the effortless way it moved through the canopy. It’s incredible to see them swinging so gracefully above.
After trekking another hour, we stopped for lunch.
It’s pretty amazing what kind of feast the guides manage to prepare out here in the middle of the rainforest. We were served pre-prepared fried chicken and rice, followed by the most incredible fruit platter. The presentation was impressive — and the fruit was just as delicious and refreshing.
We rested here for quite a while. I think it was mainly because the gruelling part was still to come, and as a group, we needed all the energy we could get!
We hoisted our bags back on and carried on deeper into the jungle. This next section — well, this is where things got real.
We soon reached what our guide casually described as a “climb to the viewpoint.” In reality, it was a relentless uphill scramble to the highest point on our trek.
There was no trail in the traditional sense. Instead, we clawed our way up slippery slopes, grabbing at roots, tree trunks, lianas and the occasional helpful rope someone had kindly knotted into place. At one point, we were basically hauling ourselves up backwards, in a sort of amateur abseil move — knees scraping, sweat pouring, legs burning.
It was so hard, our guides were great and said let’s just take our time it’s not a race, I had to keep stopping to drink and just lower my heart rate that was bellowing in my eardrums. I looked at the younger ones and said sorry but it’s a killer but they all agreed it was just as punishing for them so that at least made us oldies feel a bit better.
And once we made it to the top, we were dripping, red-faced, but triumphant.
The viewpoint was incredible — and a clear reminder of just how high we’d climbed. We were now above the canopy, and with some pretty steep drops along the ridge, we made sure to stick closely to the path.
Thankfully, there was a clearing where we could rest, and a perfectly positioned fallen tree made the ideal jungle bench. We took a well-earned break there, catching our breath and taking it all in.
It turned out to be a great spot for birdwatching too — a few hornbills even flew overhead.
Rest over the jungle decided to laugh one more time — because the descent? OMG Even worse.
The way down was an almost vertical, muddy slope — no clear path, just tangled roots and gravity working against us.
The tall jungle trees gave a slight sense of security, even though there were some pretty steep drops right next to the path.
If this were back in the UK, you’d be wearing hard hats and harnesses!
What really kept me focused was the thought that the last thing you’d want out here is an injury.
We’re both in our 50s and still pretty active, but this was hard. Not just “oof, I’m a bit tired” hard — this was serious leg-burning, breathless, full-body effort. And it wasn’t just us — even the younger ones in our group were totally caught off guard by how tough it was.
Just when we thought we’d earned a gentle stroll into camp, the jungle had one last curveball for us.
After catching our breath at the bottom we were met with another uphill section — not quite as brutal as the last, but enough to remind our legs they weren’t done just yet. We pushed on, fueled by the promise of rest, a river bath, and maybe a cup of jungle tea if we were lucky.
Then came the worst of it: the final descent to camp.
This wasn’t a path — it was a steep, slippery, root-laced slope than a trail. And of course, just as we started making our way down, we heard the unmistakable sound of the river below — and the sound of the camp, so close… but not quite. Focus was everything. One wrong move, and you’d be sliding down on your backside, maybe collecting a few leeches along the way for good measure.
We gripped whatever we could: ropes, vines, tree roots — even the occasional kind guide’s hand when offered.
And because the jungle clearly has a sense of humour, the rain started, just as we were nearly at the bottom —course it did.
But we were so close — and finally, after one last awkward shuffle and slide… we made it to Camp!
And what a welcome sight it was: a clearing beside the rushing river, Wet, muddy, aching — but we’d made it through one of the toughest hikes we’d ever done.
Now it was time to drop our packs, peel off our wet clothes, and dunk ourselves straight into that river.
Our sleeping arrangements for the night were inside a wooden hut, with simple wooden frames raised slightly off the ground, each covered with a thin foam mattress and a mosquito net.
We were all lined up side by side with the rest of our group — this was going to be interesting! It certainly wasn’t the luxury of the Jungle Inn back in the village.
The jungle toilet was even more primitive — but hey, at least there was one.
It was basically a shed made of bamboo and black tarpaulin tucked away at the back of camp, with a simple toilet and a bucket of water to flush.
As long as we went together and kept lookout, we felt okay — mostly watching out for each other and for snakes.
There was absolutely no way I was going back there in the middle of the night if nature called. No chance!
After our bath in the river — which I must say was genuinely relaxing — the exhaustion and dehydration really started to hit me.
Water was plentiful in camp, so I tried to rehydrate, but that sickly feeling crept in… and before I knew it, I was projectile vomiting in the blummin’ camp toilet. Not exactly the jungle experience I’d planned!
Even though we’d been drinking water all day, the amount of sweat you lose out here is next level. In hindsight, I should have filled our bottles with electrolytes — I even had some back at the posh Jungle Inn!
Ah well, lesson learned. I just had to keep sipping water and hope I’d bounce back soon.
The rain was still pounding, so we took shelter in our camp beds before dinner was served.
To tell you the truth, when they called us for dinner, it was the last thing I wanted — but they make such an effort. There’s a little camp kitchen where the camp cooks had been prepping the meal for quite some time, and I thought, maybe food might help me feel a bit better.
You eat with your group in a small hut, sitting on rattan mats. They lit candles — the jungle was pitch black by now — and brought out an absolute feast: curries, rendang, potato pancakes, rice, vegetables, and tempeh (a fried soybean dish).
Under normal circumstances, I’d have devoured the lot. But I just wasn’t feeling it. I pushed some steamed rice around my plate and managed a potato pancake — that was me done.
Luckily, in the dim candlelight, I don’t think anyone noticed I hadn’t really eaten. The last thing I wanted was to offend the chef, especially after all their hard work.
After dinner, we played a few games, which was a nice touch.
I really tried to muster some enthusiasm, but sheer exhaustion had taken over. I eventually excused myself — I couldn’t wait to crawl into that jungle bed. Even the thin mat felt like luxury, I was that tired.
I did manage to sleep on and off.
It was actually quite nice waking up to the night sounds, which were a lullaby of their own — cicadas buzzing, frogs croaking, the rain still hammering down, and the occasional mysterious rustle in the undergrowth.
It wasn’t exactly the quietest sleep of our lives, but it was certainly one of the most memorable.
As dawn broke, new sounds filled the air — the calls of monkeys, possibly even baboons echoing in the distance, and the squawk of birds waking up to a new day.
It’s not every day you get to wake up to that.
I definitely felt much better than the night before, but I still wasn’t 100 percent.
I just had to hope that some breakfast, coffee, and lots more water would give me a bit of energy — because the thing I was dreading most was the way out of camp… and that meant climbing that damn steep hill again.
At 9:30, we packed up our belongings — still soaked from the day before — making our bags feel even heavier. But we were all ready to push on.
“Right, let’s do this!” we said, hoping that once we got this hill out of the way, today’s trek might not be quite as intense.
But wow — we were wrong. The hill was just as brutal… maybe even worse.
Our legs and arms ached from the previous day, and there was no chance to ease into it — the trail went straight up.
We had to stop so many times. Sweat was pouring off us, and we’d already emptied one of our water bottles before we’d even reached the top.
The guide must’ve seen the struggle on my face because he kindly offered to carry my bag — a massive help. From there, we just chipped away at the climb, slowly pulling our body weight up using roots, lianas, and ropes.
I’ve never been more overjoyed than when the guide finally said, “Just three more metres!”
Phew. Section one: done.
It was up and down a bit after that, but thankfully not quite as bad. We took plenty of rest stops and spotted a few interesting creatures along the way. Two colourful bugs were happily chilling on the trunk of a tree and didn’t mind being photographed. We were also lucky enough to spot a rare and enchanting species native to Indonesia — the endangered sun tortoise, also known as the spiny turtle, named for its distinctive spiky-edged shell. It blends in perfectly with the forest floor, so spotting one in the wild was a real treat!
We made it back to the viewpoint once more, and from there we took a different path from the previous day’s trek. The guide told us it would now be a series of declines. They’d be steep and, after the rain, very slippery — but honestly, I’d rather that than more hills. Those climbs were just too much. I know going downhill can be just as tough, but if we took our time — which we did — we’d be fine.
Some sections were so slippy that me and Shane found it easier (and safer!) to slide down on our bottoms. There were ropes in place — thankfully — but they weren’t exactly substantial. More for guidance than support, and they could easily snap if you put your full weight on them, which made things tricky. I managed to take the skin off my fingers a couple of times from rope burns. This was tough — with a humongous capital T — but we made it down the first big decline. Phew!
Luckily, at this section, we spotted another Thomas monkey — the funky, punky ones — so we were more than happy to spend a while watching them. They was clearly used to people; at one point, one even jumped down from the tree and walked right past me. I wasn’t worried at all, as these monkeys aren’t aggressive.
So that brought us to the final decline. The guide said it was the toughest yet, so we all needed to be extra careful, especially after the rain had made everything even more treacherous. None of us were looking forward to it, but at least we could see the end in sight — no matter how long it took us to get there.
Some sections were honestly terrifying — super slippery and steep. I was just grateful the jungle is full of roots to grab onto. Once again, we ended up sliding down large parts on our bottoms, now completely covered in clay and mud — but that was the least of our worries. We had to double, even triple our focus to get the job done as carefully as possible.
Then, we heard the sound of the river again — a sign we were nearing the end. The guide warned, “Don’t lose focus now,” and there was absolutely no way I was going to — not after all that. We’d come this far, and we were going to finish in one piece. And we blummin’ well did! I’ve never been so happy to be back on flat land in my entire life.
At the bottom, we were welcomed by a group of pig-tailed macaques — yes! We were thrilled to see the wee piggy tails again. And just as we reached the river… we couldn’t believe our eyes: an orangutan with her baby. It felt like the jungle was giving us a reward for all we’d pushed through.
We only had to walk a short way along the river to reach our final stop, where we’d have lunch and could swim. Me and Shane just walked straight into the river fully clothed and dunked our heads under — it was so refreshing, and it also washed off all the mud — ha!
I still wasn’t really feeling hungry when lunch was served — it’s hard to eat when you’re completely exhausted — but I did enjoy some of the fruit, which they’d once again presented beautifully.
And that was it — we’d done it! There was just one thing left: to be taken back to the village by river, in an inflatable raft made of inner tubes. We were more than ready for this part — bring it on! And it did not disappoint. It was the most fun part of the day — an absolutely perfect ending to an epic adventure.
Back at the village, we made our way to the posh Jungle Inn. We had one final night to relax, and we were more than happy at the thought of sinking into that comfy bed later. I think we both could have slept for a week — but tomorrow, we move on, and we’ve got quite the journey ahead.
Our next stop in Sumatra is Lake Toba, which is a 7–8 hour drive from Bukit Lawang. Honestly, I think we’ll just be glad to be transported all day — at least we won’t be trekking!
Bukit Lawang — you’ve been a pleasure. You gave us everything we hoped for… and maybe a few surprises too. But we don’t regret a single minute of our time here, or in the national park.
Samosir Island - Lake Toba
From Bukit Lawang, our next stop was Samosir Island, Lake Toba, another popular tourist destination in northern Sumatra. Sumatra is huge — almost twice the size of the UK — so while I’m sure there were plenty more places we could have explored, we couldn’t see it all. We’re on a 30-day visa and also want to spend time in Java.
It was going to be a long drive — around 8 to 9 hours — but we had a slight issue: Shane had been up all night with an upset stomach (I’ll spare you the details). I think it was mostly down to dehydration from the trek, but of course, it had to hit on the day we were meant to travel. Naturally, we were a bit worried. Luckily, I had packed a decent stash of medical supplies, and after a few doses of medicine through the night, we just hoped he’d feel well enough to manage the journey.
I’d booked us onto a shared minivan through the trek company, so I said to Shane that we could always try to reschedule and stay one more night so he could recover. But he said, ‘Let’s pack up and just see how I feel.’ He still felt terrible, but his stomach had settled, so we decided to take a chance and head off. Honestly, I was ready to start praying for this journey!
It was a shame Shane was feeling so sick, because leaving the village was actually really fun. Once again, we had to get to the main road on the back of scooters. I was more relaxed about it this time and held on tight — especially when we hit the steep bits. ‘Woo hoo!’ the driver and I were shouting as we whizzed through the village. ‘Motorbike rollercoaster!’ he yelled from the front — and honestly, I loved it. Ha!
We continued for about a mile on the main road and were dropped off at a spot in the village where we assumed we’d meet the bus. A guy there said, ‘Lake Toba?’ and we replied, ‘Yes!’ — so we knew we were in the right place.
A couple more Westerners turned up, so I assumed we were all most likely heading to the lake. There was a little village shop opposite, so I took advantage and stocked up on some water for the journey — although I was sure we’d stop along the way… especially for Shane’s sake!
A small minibus turned up, which I thought might be ours, but it did a turnaround and drove off. So we waited a while longer, and then a car arrived — a larger one — so maybe this was it. I hoped so!
A guy then pulled up on a scooter asking for our names, as by now the group of Westerners had grown to about eight or nine of us.
As luck would have it, we were going to be travelling in the large car. I was curious to see how all our bags would fit, as there wasn’t a roof rack or anything. It was one of those cars with a spacious boot and two fold-down seats. What the guy did was set up one of the seats in the back and then started loading the bags alongside it.
It became clear that five of us would be travelling in the car — ooh, this could be interesting.
I didn’t think all the bags would fit, but the guy had clearly done this before. With some clever organisation, he got them all in — rammed to the roof, but in nonetheless!
He asked us to hop in, and Shane quickly grabbed the solo seat in the back — I’ve never seen him move so fast. I knew that’s where he’d want to be; feeling the way he did, he could have his own space there. Cramped, I’m sure, but definitely more comfortable for him.
A young lad jumped in the front alongside the driver, so I got into the back, followed quickly by a lovely French couple. We were all going to be huddled next to each other, but they were full of enthusiasm and thrilled to be travelling by car rather than bus, so more than happy to squeeze in.
At least they seemed jovial and super friendly, and they spoke great English, so I was sure the journey would be just fine.
And so it was! The journey passed quickly. With so much to see along the way, we passed through numerous towns and villages, then past acres and acres of lush farmland. With its tropical climate and volcanic soil, I’m sure it’s the perfect place for growing many crops.
We stopped about a third of the way in, at what must be a popular rest point. Lots of Westerners were grabbing the opportunity to get snacks and noodles — we even saw a few familiar faces from the jungle trek. It’s funny how we seem to follow each other along the tourist trails.
Shane still felt a bit crummy. He got some fresh air at the rest stop but was happy to get back in the car and put his head down.
We all got to know each other more as we travelled. The young guy in the front was from Oman and travelling alone. He’d travelled extensively — obviously had the travel bug like the rest of us. He said his parents didn’t know he was travelling solo; he’d told them he was with friends, as they would’ve been too worried — which is understandable. But he said all his friends were getting married and having children, and he wasn’t ready for that. Good for him — at least he’s following his dreams.
The French couple were from Paris, around our age and on a three-week trip. They were also well-travelled, and the woman was so passionate about the lesser known Indonesian islands like this — not too touristy. She had such an interest in all things local and was asking the driver lots of questions about the things we passed. The trouble was, he didn’t understand a word she was saying, so between us and Google Translate, we got the facts. I loved that she was so inquisitive — plus, she had a raucous, infectious laugh that couldn’t help but put a smile on your face.
Around the halfway mark, we started to climb and wind our way up the mountain. We climbed for some time — I’m surprised the car made it with the weight of all of us and our baggage — but we chugged on at a snail’s pace.
Once at the top, the views were amazing, just as we’d predicted, and the impressive Mount Sinabung came into view.
Mount Sinabung had been dormant for over 400 years before it erupted in 2010. Since then, it has erupted multiple times, with major eruptions in 2013, 2014, 2016, 2018, and 2021.
Let’s hope she wasn’t about to blow today! I think we’d have prior warning — well, I’d hope so!!
Coming down the mountain was just as twisty, but our driver took his time and navigated the bends slowly. Once at the bottom, we stopped for another break at a lovely café with great views of the volcano.
Shane was doing okay — he was far from 100%, but in his seat in the back, he managed to rest his head on our pile of bags. Bless him — it can’t have been nice for him.
Back on the road, we passed through a village where the traffic had built up, so we queued for a while. It just happened to be when school had finished.
We had the windows open in the car, and as the kids passed, every single one of them waved and said hello. We had such a laugh with some of them — they weren’t being cheeky, just friendly and full of fun.
These towns obviously don’t see many Western faces, so we definitely drew some attention — but we all loved it!
As we drew closer, the lake came into view, and we stopped once more at a viewpoint to take in the spectacular scenery.
Lake Toba is the largest volcanic lake in the world, formed by a massive supervolcanic eruption around 74,000 years ago. The Toba eruption is one of the largest known volcanic events on Earth.
The lake is massive — around 100 km long and 30 km wide, with a maximum depth of approximately 505 meters (1,657 feet).
Samosir Island, where we were heading, is the large island in the middle of the lake — roughly the size of Singapore!
Heading down towards the lake, it was interesting to see the landscape change once more. Large pine trees replaced exotic palm trees, and the lakeside roads were spectacular — the type me and Shane always call ‘Top Gear’ roads!
There were still monkeys, loads of them sat alongside the roadside. In fact, they were the wee little pig-tailed macaques — ha!
We weren’t far off the port now at Parapat — the town where we’d need to catch the ferry to the island. We were staying in a village called Tuk Tuk, which is one of the more touristy areas on the island. The ferries run once an hour, so hopefully we hadn’t just missed one!
When we arrived at the port, we were told the ferry would be 20 minutes — not too long to wait. We were able to sit and relax in a small café alongside lots of other tourists, all heading to Samosir.
Well, I know we weren’t quite there yet, but what a great journey so far. The time flew by, and we got to see lots of different landscapes along the way. We had a few good laughs too — us car sharers started as strangers and ended as friends!
They called us when the ferry arrived, and as you get on, the crew ask where you’re staying on the island. We weren’t sure if we’d be dropped at a main port or somewhere closer to the hotel — we’d just have to wait and see.
Shane was still holding up — just. I think we needed to get him straight to bed once we arrived at the guesthouse. It had certainly been a long day for him.
There was me, loving the journey — and poor Shane, living his worst nightmare under the circumstances.
Once we reached the island — the journey took around 35–40 minutes — we arrived at a jetty where just a couple of people got off. The ferry swiftly moved on, and just around the corner, a few more passengers disembarked. It quickly became clear why they’d asked where we were staying.
I was following our location on Google Maps, so I could see we still had a little way to go until we arrived at our guesthouse.
Our travel companions got off a couple of stops later, so we said our goodbyes and shared well wishes — just in case our paths didn’t cross again.
About five minutes later, a crew member came over and told us we’d arrived. I wasn’t sure if we were directly there or just nearby — but to our amazement, the ferry pulled up right at the garden of our guesthouse.
How amazing is that? Door-to-door service — and the ferry was only £1 each!
From what we’d seen so far, the island had exceeded our expectations. Guesthouses and beautiful hotels adorned the lakeside, all taking full advantage of the lake and mountain views. It was stunning!
We also loved the architecture of the guesthouses along the shore, which reflected the iconic design of the Batak Toba people — the indigenous ethnic group of the area. The saddle-shaped roofs were steeply pitched and curved upward at both ends, resembling buffalo horns — apparently a symbol of strength and prosperity.
It had been a long day — nine hours it had taken — and it probably felt even longer for Shane, so we weren’t going to explore further this evening. I’d find a shop for milk and snacks, and we decided on an early night.
Every muscle still ached from the jungle trek, so I was more than happy to call it quits for the day. After a good night’s sleep, I hoped Shane would be feeling better in the morning.
By the next day, feeling refreshed, the first thing I couldn’t wait to do was make a brew and sit by the lakeside.
Our guesthouse was amazing — I couldn’t have chosen better. Our room faced the lake, and there were beautifully landscaped gardens with lots of different seating areas, hammocks, and a very inviting row of sunbeds right by the water — perfect!
I already knew we were going to love it here. It was the perfect place to chill, especially after our jungle trek. Our bodies could have time to heal, and Shane could lay low if he was still feeling unwell.
In fact, that’s exactly what we decided to do for the next two days. Shane was recovering nicely, and we chose to use the time — and the most beautiful setting — to relax.
It also gave me the chance to start writing our first post for the blog, while Shane could do all the techy things he has to do, and also sift through the mammoth number of photos we’d taken on the trek — so we were far from short of things to do!
It was so peaceful. Between writing, I was making endless cups of tea — got to keep the lad hydrated! Shane will drink tea all day, as anyone who knows him well will know — ha!
And when I got tired of writing, those comfortable sunbeds along the lakeside had my name all over them for a little snooze — oh yes! I could get used to this… leave me here for a month!
So it was only on day three that we actually ventured out properly. Shane was almost back to normal, and we were both intrigued to explore Tuk Tuk and see what the place had to offer.
From where we were staying, it was easy to explore on foot — which we love to do. Not too far away was the ancient village of Huta Siallagan — a cultural heritage site that immerses visitors in the history and traditions of the Batak Toba people. It sounded like the perfect place to visit.
We were looking forward to the walk there, as it gave us a chance to glimpse local life along the way. We followed the coast road, so we were constantly treated to amazing views across the lake.
The village houses were a mix — alongside many modern buildings, there were also plenty of traditional Batak houses, which we loved seeing, especially with their intricate wooden carvings.
It felt much more tropical here on the island. Where we’d caught the ferry on the mainland, the landscape was full of pine trees, but here it was lush with banana trees — loads of them — as well as all kinds of fruit and nut trees.
There were so many beautiful plants too; I was in my element using Google to identify some of the more unusual-looking ones. One plant was laden with strange-shaped orange fruits, which I discovered were called nipplefruit — how funny!
I also spotted large cacao pods — those I recognised — along with papaya, jackfruit, and walnuts. Fruit was in abundance!
As we walked, we kept dodging piles of nuts spread out across the pavements, presumably left to dry in the sun. I thought some might have been almonds and others nutmeg, though I wasn’t entirely sure — something I’d have to look up later.
We decided to stop for a coffee — after all, coffee in Sumatra is a big deal! It really would’ve been rude not to.
Sumatra is one of Indonesia’s top coffee-producing islands, especially known for its robust, full-bodied Arabica beans. The region’s volcanic soil and tropical climate create ideal growing conditions for high-quality coffee.
But coffee isn’t just grown in Sumatra — it’s also a big part of everyday life.
We realised we were hungry too — we hadn’t really eaten properly over the last few days — so we ordered a local dish called Bakwan Sayur. These are basically vegetable fritters, often made with shredded cabbage, carrots, and bean sprouts, and deep-fried.
Served with a spicy chilli dip, they were the perfect lunchtime snack — just what the doctor ordered — along with a side of chips. And let me tell you, they fry a good spud here. Move over, the Irish!
Well, we were happy — more than happy.
Fed and watered, we carried on towards the ancient village. Just a few hundred metres before it, we veered off the road after I spotted a museum called Sipalakka on the map — it sounded like an interesting cultural stop.
It was only a small detour, but I’m so glad we didn’t miss it. The museum was beautifully set within a hillside garden and houses a collection of old stone carvings and sculptures, offering insight into the rich cultural heritage of the Batak Toba people.
There were steps leading up the hillside to a traditional Batak house, which you could even venture inside. You had to give a small donation to the museum and we also bought a cute souvenir. So we all left happy!
Back on the road, we continued towards Huta Siallagan. We knew we’d arrived when we saw the rows of souvenir stalls, with sellers eager to tempt the tourists. We’d already bought one item, but ended up being charmed into buying another — the ladies were persuasive, and we were happy to contribute to the village.
We stopped for a drink and sat by the roadside before going into the cultural village. As we sat there, a guy pulled up on his scooter and asked where we were from. He introduced himself as an Indonesian English teacher and asked if he could have a conversation with us—and if it was okay for his niece, who was riding with him, to film it. He was a jolly chap, and who were we to refuse?
He started by asking what we liked about Sumatra and where we had visited. We told him we’d just come from the jungle trek in Bukit Lawang, and he said, “Oh, you’ll know the jungle song then! Shall we sing it?”
“Sure!” I said. Shane was covering his face, muttering “Really?”—which made me laugh. So me and the chap were happily singing out loud the jungle tune, which goes to the melody of Jingle Bells:
“Jungle trek, jungle trek, in Bukit Lawang,
See the monkeys, see the birds, and orangutan—hey!”
(It repeats—you get the gist!) There I was, singing along while being filmed, and Shane was sinking further into his seat, shaking his head and saying, “You’re a loon!” Ha! Loved it.
After that little roadside performance, we paid the small fee to enter the village itself. Huta Siallagan is laid out in rows of traditional Batak houses, with some open for visitors to step inside and see how people once lived.
At the heart of the village lies the Batu Parsidangan—stone seats arranged around a table beneath a sacred Hariara tree. This site is over 200 years old (though some say it could be as much as 700!) and served as a place for meetings and trials. One set of seats was for the leaders’ council, while another was reserved for trials and executions. Nearby stood the “Tree of Truth,” where verdicts were declared and oaths were sworn.
Huta Siallagan was once known as a cannibal village. Under customary law, serious offenders faced execution, with rituals that included the symbolic consumption of organs for spiritual power. Lesser crimes could result in pasung (shackling). Ooh—that’s a chilling thought!
It’s only a small village, so it didn’t take long to explore, photograph, and read about the history, but we enjoyed it all the same. They have a stage area where they put on shows, but with our timing it looked like we’d just missed one — never mind!
We headed back after this, happy to take our time and enjoy the scenery. Samosir really is a beautiful place — with lake views and volcanic mountains, it feels very Jurassic. We were almost back at our guesthouse when a bar came into view. With a beautiful deck overlooking the lake, it was shouting, ‘Stop for a beer! You know you want to!’ And how could we refuse such a setting after a really good day? Plus, we’d covered a few miles today, so we’d more than earned a cold beer. To sit and watch the jet skiers enjoying the lake and the ferry boat making its rounds was really lovely.
Whilst here in the village of Tuk Tuk, we’d also had some really good food. There was a good selection of local restaurants close to where we were staying. By day, they didn’t look like much, but by night many had BBQs going, grilling chicken and fish — mostly Indonesian dishes. People seemed to come out of the woodwork in the evenings. We hadn’t seen many westerners during the day, which made us realise there were actually more travellers here than we’d thought.
One restaurant we chose whilst here had a small open kitchen that was clearly a family effort. Mum and dad seemed to be doing the cooking, while we assumed their daughters were prepping food and washing. They were well-organised in their little kitchen, though we did have to wait as they were clearly cooking for one table at a time. It was well worth it though — tasty, freshly cooked food for just pennies.
As we were eating, a man — who I think was another family member — sat down with his guitar and told us how much Sumatran people love music and singing. He said they sing all kinds of songs: love songs, sad songs, happy songs. He played us a mix of traditional Batak songs, then slipped in a bit of Rod Stewart and old favourites like La Bamba! Before we knew it, one group that had been dining was up dancing. Considering there were only three tables, the place was rocking… and then the Sumatran yodelling started, with a few locals joining in. I love moments like this!
We only had one more day by the lake, so we decided to take it easy. We did the popular loop walk around Tuk Tuk in the morning, retracing some of our previous steps, and then made the most of our guesthouse’s beautiful lakeside position. We knew we had plenty of exploring ahead of us, so for now, why not enjoy the tranquility and peacefulness?
Tomorrow we leave Sumatra and fly to our next Indonesian island, Java, where we’ll have a brief stopover in Jakarta. Luckily, we don’t have to return all the way to Medan to catch our flight, as I found a closer airport to Lake Toba called Silangit. It’s still a two-hour drive after crossing the lake back to Parapat, but it saves about an hour compared to returning to Medan.
We’ve really enjoyed our time in Sumatra. I’m so glad I did the research all those months ago — excited to see orangutans once more and hoping to spot the Thomas’s monkey for the first time. Well, we can tick that one off the list now, and it most certainly didn’t disappoint. The jungle trek was tough going, but at least we’re still here to tell the tale!
Java
Yogyakarta
The journey from Sumatra was pretty straightforward. We took the ferry back across the lake, which took about an hour. It was quite endearing — we were told to simply stand at the guesthouse jetty, and when the ferry came by (they run once an hour), we just had to wave and it would stop to pick us up.
I’d arranged with the guesthouse for a taxi to be waiting at the port in Parapat. He said the driver would have my name written on a piece of paper. But when we arrived at the busy port, I couldn’t see anyone holding up my name — plenty of other drivers were, but for other passengers.
Something must have gone wrong and wires got crossed, so we had to find transport ourselves.
Luckily there was a guy I recognised from when we first arrived at the lake a few days earlier. We’d spoken to him then, and he seemed to be one of the men who organise transport for the many tourists passing through. He gave us a price to the airport only a couple of pounds more than what we’d originally been quoted, and told us to wait while he found us a driver.
The little port was bustling with local life. We later learned it was actually market day — people shouting and selling goods, chickens roaming about. It was all a little bit crazy, but never intimidating.
Our guy returned and asked us to follow him — he’d found us a driver! Perfect. At least this little hiccup didn’t delay our journey. We were soon on our way with an incredibly nice driver. I’ve said it before, but the Indonesian people are so lovely — always polite and friendly.
The journey was extremely scenic with glimpses of the vast lake appearing around bends in the road. Silangit Airport lies on the far side of Lake Toba, and with the lake being so enormous, it’s easy to see why the journey from Parapat takes about two hours.
We had plenty of time to reach the airport, so the driver asked if we wanted to make a quick five-minute detour to one of the best viewpoints of the lake. Of course we did — it was such a thoughtful thing for him to offer. The road wound bumpily through a small village, which was scenic in its own right with paddy fields stretching out on either side. Eventually, the lane ended at a small parking area, and there before us was a breathtaking view of the lake in all its glory. It was clearly a popular spot, as several others had also stopped to take photos of this magnificent vista.
It was only another 15 minutes’ drive from the viewpoint to the airport, and we were still in plenty of time — too early, but I’d rather that than cutting it fine. I don’t do late — it messes with my psyche.
Silangit Airport is only a small airport, with around four flights a day — two in the morning and two in the afternoon. There’s just a small row of check-in desks, and right next to them is security, which leads directly into the compact departure lounge. We like airports like this — you can be through departures in about five minutes, ha!
The flight from here to Jakarta takes 2 hours and 15 minutes. Our main destination in Java was Yogyakarta, but from Sumatra it actually worked out cheaper to fly into Jakarta first and then continue with another flight to Yogyakarta — So we figured that since we were already flying into Jakarta, we might as well spend the night there, which is exactly what we did.
Jakarta is a huge city, home to one of the most populated urban areas in the world. Since we were only here for a short stay — and with it being a minefield of different districts — I chose for us to stay in Kemang, in South Jakarta. It’s described as a leafy neighbourhood but still lively, with cool cafés and nightlife. It suited us just fine; we even found a nice music bar to chill in — all good!
To be honest, we didn’t end up exploring much of Jakarta, as there had recently been political demonstrations that had turned violent. We thought it best not to risk coming into contact with any protests. The news later reported that peace had returned across the city, but to be on the safe side we stayed in our neighbourhood. So unfortunately we didn’t get to photograph like we would normally.
So it was a short and sweet stay, and the following day we headed back to the airport to take the quick 45-minute flight to Yogyakarta. We had initially planned to take the train, as I’d read it was a scenic journey, but having already done plenty of scenic train rides, we decided to give this one a miss. The train takes over seven hours, and the price difference compared to flying wasn’t much, so on this occasion we chose the more convenient option.
Yogyakarta International Airport is quite far out from the city — about an hour and 20 minutes away. Transport, however, is relatively cheap. We took a Grab taxi for around £11, which we were happy with for a direct door-to-door service. There are also shuttle buses that are much cheaper, though they tend to drop passengers at different points around the city rather than at hotels. Since it was almost dark when we arrived, the taxi was the easiest choice for us.
There are many districts to stay in across the city, but the most popular with tourists are around Malioboro and Prawirotaman. Prawirotaman is often called the ‘backpacker district’ of Yogyakarta, but today it attracts a wide mix of travellers, offering everything from budget hostels to boutique hotels. Once a quiet residential neighbourhood, it has grown into a lively hub with a strong international feel while still keeping touches of Javanese charm. For us, it sounded ideal — after long days of sightseeing, we wanted somewhere with a relaxed atmosphere and a good evening vibe.
Malioboro they say is the beating heart of Yogyakarta. This is where you’ll find endless shopping streets, busy markets, and rows of street food stalls. It’s the most central area, so staying here means you’re right in the middle of the action, with many of the city’s main sights close by. The atmosphere is lively from morning until late at night, but it can feel crowded and hectic at times. For us, it sounded a little too busy to use as a base, but it’s definitely worth visiting for the energy and the experience which we will be doing.
In short, Malioboro is best if you want to be right in the middle of the city’s buzz, while Prawirotaman is the place to go for a more relaxed base with a lively evening atmosphere.
Our main reason for visiting Yogyakarta was its close proximity to two of Indonesia’s most iconic monuments: Borobudur and Prambanan. Both were built in the 9th century and remain among the city’s biggest draws for visitors. Despite being constructed around the same time, they represent two very different faiths — Borobudur is a single grand Buddhist temple, while Prambanan is a more spread out Hindu complex.
There are many day tours available from the city — sunrise and sunset trips, or combined tours that visit both temple complexes. We chose the latter, as it felt like the best way to experience them in one day.
We booked a tour to join a group, which we always prefer, as we’ve met some great people on tours. This one was no different. It was an early pick-up — we had to be ready at the hotel by 6:30 am.
The service was really good from the get-go — the driver messaged to say he was on his way. When he arrived, it turned out to be just a large car, so there wasn’t going to be a bus load of us. Inside was a guy who immediately introduced himself as Thomas from Germany. We were going to be a small group today, picking up just one more lady, who we soon found out was from Korea.
Thomas was really chatty and extremely well-travelled, so we had loads to talk about. He now works in the travel industry, booking specialist holidays for Americans, so he’s basically being paid to travel — the perfect job, which he loves.
The Korean lady was solo travelling around a few places in Java before flying to Bali to meet her daughter. She didn’t speak English as fluent as Thomas but we all got by.
Our first stop was the magnificent Borobudur Temple, about an hour and a half’s drive from Yogyakarta. We enjoyed the drive through the city then onto lush countryside and small villages.
When we arrived, we followed our driver to exchange the tickets and collect our temple shoes. At Borobudur, you can choose full access to climb the temple. To protect the site, only a limited number of people are allowed to do this each day, and everyone must wear the lightweight shoes provided — which you get to keep as a souvenir. Once we were all in our temple shoes, we hopped onto the electric bus that takes visitors to the main site.
Borobudur Temple is the world’s largest Buddhist monument, a magnificent 9th-century structure built from dark volcanic stone. Rising like a stepped pyramid, it consists of nine stacked platforms topped by a central dome. The walls and balustrades are covered with thousands of intricately carved panels that tell Buddhist stories and teachings.
The climb up was surprisingly manageable in the lightweight temple shoes they provided, and with each level the views became more impressive. Although we were only allowed to go as far as the seventh level, the circular platform dotted with stupas — each containing a Buddha inside — was beautiful, though it was quite difficult to capture in a photograph. Looking out over the rice fields, villages, and hazy volcanoes in the distance was unforgettable. It’s easy to see why this is one of Indonesia’s most iconic sites.
Our next stop should have been lunch before moving on to Prambanan Temple. However, Thomas mentioned that we were actually close to the Chicken Church. He asked if I’d heard of it, and I had — though I didn’t realise it was nearby. He wondered if our driver might do a quick detour, but only if we were all up for it. We most definitely were, as was the Korean lady, so when we got back to the car Thomas asked the driver, and to our joy he was more than happy to take us. We had no idea what to expect, but at least we could say we’d been to the Chicken Church — ha!
It was originally meant to be shaped like a dove, but the locals thought it looked more like a chicken — and the nickname stuck.
The structure was built by a man named Daniel Alamsjah, who claimed he was inspired by a vision. It was originally intended as a prayer house open to people of all faiths, not just Christians, and it still serves that purpose today.
To reach it, we had to climb a steep road that left us all a bit sweaty, but when the giant bird-shaped structure finally came into view, we couldn’t help but laugh. Inside, it was surprisingly interesting, with little corridors filled with murals and rooms to explore, and we even climbed up into the chicken’s head for sweeping views of the jungle and rice fields below. The entry fee included a small snack in the church café afterwards, which was a fun bonus. It’s definitely one of the strangest but most memorable places we’ve visited — and yes, it really does look more like a chicken than a dove!
The driver asked if we wanted to stop for lunch before driving to Prambanan, but since we’d just had snacks at the church, we all agreed there was no need. That’s when Thomas came up with another idea. Instead of lunch, he suggested we stop for some kopi luwak — which, he explained, is one of the most famous (and unusual) coffees in the world.
Kopi luwak is made using coffee beans that have been eaten and then excreted by the Cat like Asian palm civet also known as the luwak in Indonesia. The beans pass through the civet’s digestive system, where enzymes are believed to change their chemical structure, reducing bitterness and creating a smoother, richer flavour once roasted.
After he explained what it was, we realised we had actually heard of it before — I’m pretty sure I saw a documentary about this strange coffee process, and we may have even heard about it in Vietnam where they do something similar.
Because of the unusual process and limited supply, kopi luwak is marketed as one of the most expensive coffees in the world. But here in Java, it’s extremely cheap — so we thought, hell, why not? Let’s go and try some cat poo coffee!
The café we stopped at was only a short drive away—Mataram Loewak Coffee, known for serving authentic Kopi Luwak. It’s a spacious, cozy spot that blends traditional Javanese architecture with modern touches.
We were greeted by a cheerful, friendly crew, and before diving into the coffee we were given a guided insight into the process—from the civet’s role to bean processing and roasting. It felt like a mini tour in itself. The Korean lady was sniffing the beans and laughing—she clearly wanted to make sure there weren’t any traces of poo!
When it came time to taste, we were shown the best way to enjoy it: place a small piece of crystal sugar between your teeth and then sip the coffee. I have to agree—it was the perfect way to taste it. The coffee was smooth, delicious, and not bitter at all, just as they promised.
This was another excellent suggestion by Thomas—five stars to our new German personal tour guru! It truly was a feel-good cultural experience, complete with the civet demonstration and a deeper appreciation for the unique Kopi Luwak process.
So, after a few grateful detours, we were finally on our way to Prambanan Temple. Our day already felt complete—and yet we still had an amazing temple ahead of us.
When we arrived, it reminded us in many ways of a smaller Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Prambanan is a vast Hindu temple complex, built in the 9th century and dedicated to the Trimurti—the three great Hindu deities: Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver, and Shiva the Destroyer.
The central part of the complex is dominated by towering spires, the tallest reaching 47 meters, making it the largest Hindu temple in Indonesia.
As you walk through, the first thing you notice is how the stone towers rise majestically. Around them are more than 200 smaller shrines, many in ruins. You can’t help but imagine what it must have looked like when they were all complete.
There are four main sites within the grounds, so after exploring the central ones we set off to see the others while the light was still good. The sun, if anything, was almost too bright, and we kept trying to position it behind us—otherwise everything was thrown into silhouette. That can make for some striking photos, but you also want to be able to appreciate the incredible detail of these structures. We could also walk inside several of the temples, which was fascinating, as the carvings within were just as captivating as those on the outside.
What an amazing day! Such a wonderful mix of culture with a few bonuses thrown in for good measure. It’s definitely up there with the really fun days we’ve had, and once again we met lovely people who left a lasting impression.
Back at the hotel it was already nightfall, but the great thing about where we were staying was that it was surrounded by plenty of places to eat and drink. We were basically on the main street in Prawirotaman, lined with trendy cafés and quirky restaurants alongside local Indonesian warungs (small family-run eateries). The street buzzed at night with a mix of nationalities, and live music was popular. One evening the street was packed with a big crowd listening to a local band. Ice cream and dessert places are also a big thing here, and I wasn’t going to say no to an ice cream — glad I didn’t, because there’s an amazing ice cream parlour right on the street. I’d never seen so many different flavours, and I can tell you it was delicious. The queue was long — understandably so — but it was worth the wait.
We hadn’t fully explored the city yet, so that was what we had planned next. I’d done some research on the popular sights and put together a plan for the day. From where we were staying, most of it was walkable. If it got too much there were plenty of transport options, but we like getting our steps in, so we’d see how it went.
We were heading first towards the Water Castle of Royal Jogjakarta. It was around a 40-minute walk, but we were hoping to come across interesting places along the way. The only thing that makes walking here a little tricky is the sheer amount of traffic, and crossing the road is a task in itself. No one is going to stop — you have to walk with your hand out to halt the traffic and just keep moving. The cars and bikes will go around you or slow down, but it still freaks you out a bit. We’re getting quite good at it after similar experiences in Cambodia and Vietnam, but my, it’s still crazy!
Luckily, we discovered routes to avoid the busy roads and led us through little passageways winding between what felt like tiny villages. We found out these are called a ‘gang’.
Inside a gang, you’ll often find a kampung (a traditional neighbourhood community). A kampung feels like a self-contained village right in the middle of the city, with houses, small warungs and little shops tucked along the lanes.
They’re usually too narrow for cars, but perfect for motorbikes, bicycles, or walking-so Perfect for us.
As we wandered through the alleyways, many were decorated with murals — which seems to be a big thing here. Kids were playing, daily life spilled out onto the street, and you never felt like you were intruding, as everyone greeted you with a smile and a hello as you passed by.
One thing that really stood out were the bird cages hanging outside so many homes. Caged songbirds are everywhere in Java. It’s not something I usually like to see, but here it’s a proud tradition — with birdsong filling the kampungs and even competitions to find the best singers. (Pretty sure they call it The Chirp Factor — ha!).
As we exited one of the gangs, we found ourselves close to Alun-Alun Square — also known as the Southern Square. By day it’s a fairly calm open space, but at night it apparently transforms into a buzzing hangout spot with street food, neon-lit pedal cars, and families strolling around. We spotted a few of the pedal cars parked up on a side street — funny to see old converted VW Beetles and campervans. I bet they look amazing all lit up at night, and hopefully we’ll get the chance to see it.
The streets became a lot more busy as we neared the water castle. Filled with local rickshaw bikes eager to transport you around.
The rickshaws here are called a becak, these three-wheeled rickshaws have a passenger seat at the front and the driver pedalling behind. Many today are motorised but you do see a mix of both.
They’re a traditional mode of transport in Java and still very common in Yogyakarta, especially for short trips through the narrow gangs and kampungs. Rides are cheap and a great fun way to get around the city
These days they are mainly for tourists, but locals do still use them, we will make sure we do before we leave.
It was funny to see many of the drivers taking a quick snooze in their becaks while waiting for trade — though I did wonder if some might be missing out if they were too busy sleeping, ha!
Another popular way to get around is by traditional horse-drawn carriage. They’re iconic here, and I was relieved to see the horses looking well cared for — fed, watered, and properly shod. As a former horse owner, that matters to me.
We had to pay a small admission fee to enter the water palace also known as Taman Sari.
It was once a grand retreat for the Sultan of Yogyakarta, built in the 18th century as part royal garden, part bathing complex, and part place of meditation and defense. Today, you can wander through its atmospheric ruins, admire the turquoise bathing pools, explore tunnels, and imagine the days when it was filled with royal life.
It wasn’t a big place, so it didn’t take too long to explore, but as we exited a local man told us there were more historic buildings across the way that were still part of the Taman Sari water complex. We were glad we followed his advice, as we discovered a hidden corner called Situs Gedhong Carik — a narrow corridor with rooms on either side, once used by the royal scribes and serving as the entrance to the Sultan’s private retreat. Best of all, it was much less crowded.
Next on the agenda was Malioboro Street, about a 30-minute walk from the Water Palace. Plenty of rickshaw drivers offered us rides, but we were more than happy to walk and maybe discover a few more ‘gangs’ along the way — which we did creating shortcuts between a few busier roads, it didn’t take us long to reach Malioboro.
We knew we’d reached Malioboro by the sheer amount of people and traffic. Rickshaws were lined up alongside horse-drawn carriages, all eager to transport tourists around this popular area.
We loved the hustle and bustle of it all. Street food sellers were everywhere, with little makeshift stalls — some cooking skewers of chicken, others ladling out broths or frying up local delights. We didn’t risk trying any this time, keeping a wide berth after Shane’s recent stomach issues. The traffic was manic, the noise constant, and street entertainers had set up at different points along the road. We also saw many families dressed in traditional costumes having professional photos taken. We weren’t sure if it was a holiday or just something that’s really popular here! Either way, everyone was friendly, always ready with a smile and a hello. We were even stopped a few times and asked for photos — seems to be a regular occurrence here, so of course we always obliged, ha!
The buildings along Malioboro Street are a mix of old and new — colonial-era facades with arched windows and tiled roofs sitting side by side with modern shops, malls, and hotels. Street-level it’s all life and colour, packed with batik shops, souvenir stalls, and little eateries squeezed into every available space. It feels chaotic, but in the best way.
We could see now why they call it the beating heart of the city — great for photos and to soak up the chaos, but we were also glad we’d be heading back later to the more peaceful vibes of Prawirotaman. Think Market Street in Manchester on a Saturday… then triple it, and that’s Malioboro!
The street stretches roughly 1.5 miles and feels endless when you’re walking through the crowds, so we decided to detour off before reaching the end. Plus it was all starting to feel a bit same-same. Just a street away we found ourselves in quiet kampungs — thank the lord. We’d much rather wander through these than head back down crazy Market Street!
We’d ticked off all the sights we’d planned for the day, so the question now was: walk back or hop in a rickshaw? Big decisions — ha! I know most people would go for the latter, but I like to earn a good meal (and maybe a few sneaky beers), so walking back made it all the more deserved. Plus, it was still light. It didn’t feel like it took long, though we did have a couple of nightmare roads to cross — but we survived to tell the tale! By the time we got back to the hotel, we’d covered 10 miles. Definitely earned those beers now!
We had one more day in Yogyakarta, and it happened to be a Sunday. Luckily, we found out that on Sunday mornings there are dance performances at the Kraton — the official residence of the Sultan of Yogyakarta and his family. Perfect, that’s the morning planned. We also wanted to experience one of the rickshaws, so that would tick off another box. Many were congregated just outside our hotel, so we quickly agreed on a price and were on our way to the palace.
This worked out perfectly, as we wanted to visit the palace yesterday but we’d left it too late after visiting the Water Palace and discovered it was due to close. At least this way we weren’t going to miss out — and we even had the bonus of seeing the dance performance.
There was a small fee to enter, and the lady at the counter also said we needed to cover our knees. I’d actually checked the dress code before leaving and read that shorts were fine… clearly that was wrong. Luckily, she pointed out that just across the way I could buy a sarong — which I quickly did. Then Shane was told he had to wear one too! We picked out two (I nearly got him a nice pink one), then rushed back to get our tickets and hopefully not miss the dancing.
You could already hear the music as we were ushered through to the main pavilion in the Bangsal Sri Manganti hall. We saw men in shorts, so it looked like we’d been given wrong info on Shane’s sarong purchase. Never mind — he could be David Beckham for the morning!
Tourists and locals alike sat together around the large stage area. We didn’t know what to expect, so we quickly found a spot and waited for the dancers. One by one they entered the stage… and kept on coming. There must have been at least a hundred ladies, all lined up in rows, taking up every inch of the stage. Behind them, a traditional gamelan orchestra played, providing a hypnotic soundtrack.
When the dancers began to move — so slow and deliberate — you couldn’t help but be drawn in. It was all about precision, grace, and storytelling, and although we couldn’t understand the full tale, the atmosphere was captivating.
After the dance finished we could then explore the palace. The Kraton doesn’t feel like a palace in the way you might imagine in the UK. There are no towering stone walls, no sprawling formal gardens, no grand drawing rooms. Instead, it’s a living, sprawling complex of pavilions, courtyards, and quiet passageways.
The Kraton is part royal home, part cultural hub. Some buildings are ornate with carved doors and painted ceilings, while others are simple, everyday spaces where the Sultan’s family still live. Courtyards shaded by trees buzz with locals and visitors, and scattered around are workshops, small museums, and halls for traditional music and dance — a living slice of Yogyakarta’s culture.
We strolled back afterwards in no rush. Quieter streets led us past the palace walls. We could also check out more of the street art. Yogyakarta is full of street art — from huge, colourful murals to little quirky sketches tucked down alleyways. Every wall seems to have a story, giving the city a lively, creative energy that makes wandering around a real treat.
We’ve really enjoyed our time here — it’s been full of culture and quirks, and the city itself exceeded our expectations. We knew the temples would be amazing, as they were the main draw, but the city and the people really enhanced our experience.
We never got back to Alun-Alun Square to see the neon-lit pedal cars, but never mind — sometimes it’s impossible to fit everything in.
Tomorrow we move on to our next stop in Java. A six-hour coach journey will take us to Malang, a laid-back city with leafy streets and colonial charm. It’s also the perfect gateway to Mount Bromo, where we’ll take an early-morning adventure to catch the volcano’s sunrise.
Malang
The coach journey to Malang was great! The bus station was quite a drive out, located just by Prambanan Temple — so we took a taxi there, and at least got another sneak peek on the way.
There were a few more westerners on board, but mostly locals. The bus was surprisingly comfortable, with plenty of legroom, footstools, blankets, and pillows. They even came around with water and snacks — perfect for just sitting back, relaxing, and enjoying the ride.
The journey took around six hours, but the time flew by. The roads here are much better than in Sumatra, with toll roads making the trip to Malang smoother and faster.
The landscape was fascinating, with stretches of farmland and views of several volcanoes along the way.
Java has one of the highest densities of active volcanoes in the world, and Indonesia as a whole has more active volcanoes than any other country.
We wanted to visit Mount Bromo, as it’s one of the most famous and iconic volcanoes in Java — and in all of Indonesia. Malang made the perfect base, being one of the closest cities to Bromo. The city itself also appealed to us with its Dutch colonial architecture and cooler climate.
It was late afternoon when we arrived at our hotel in Malang, and at least we didn’t have to wait around to check in. We quickly got organised and headed out to explore the town. I’d booked a great location right in the heart of things, so it felt like we had everything on our doorstep.
First impressions exceeded our expectations. The main avenue was lined with ornate lampposts and plenty of benches, and it was nice to see the locals making use of them. Groups and couples alike were just relaxing and chatting. I know the weather plays a big part — unlike back home — but one thing that stood out here, as in many other places we’ve visited, was the strong sense of community. Once again, we found the people so friendly, with many greeting us with a smile and a hello as we passed by.
As I mentioned earlier, coffee is a big deal here in Java, so the avenue was lined with coffee shops — coffee and cake really feel like a way of life! Alongside them were bistros, ice cream parlours, and local restaurants, giving us plenty of choice.
Being a predominantly Muslim area, it’s not the kind of place where you’ll find lots of bars. You can still get a drink though — a few restaurants sell alcohol, and of course, there’s an Irish bar. I don’t think many places in the world are without one, so at least if we fancied a bevvy, we’d know where to go!
Crossing the roads was just as difficult as we’d found in Yogyakarta. I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable with the feeling of taking your life in your hands each time you cross. I just hold onto Shane’s hand for dear life and walk. The locals make it look easy, casually strolling across, but they’ve had a lifetime to practice — unlike us unsure Westerners!
As we continued along the busy Main Street we heard music which was coming from these brightly coloured pedal-powered chariots that the locals call odong-odong. The dragon-clad one stole the show, glowing in neon lights blaring music, it looked like something from a festival parade!
Like we’d found in Yogyakarta, the side streets here led us through many kampungs (local neighbourhoods). One in particular, just off the busy high street, was the Kajoetangan Heritage Village. During the day there’s a small fee to enter, but in the evenings you’re free to wander and explore the narrow alleyways.
It felt like stepping back in time, wandering through the maze of fairy-lit alleys lined with colonial-era houses, small shops, and cafés. Kids played in the streets while residents chatted outside their homes, giving the place a warm community feel — part living neighbourhood, part open-air museum, and full of old-world charm. We hadn’t expected to find this, and it was a lovely surprise.
And guess where the end of the village led us… the Irish bar — well I never! Be rude not to pop in whilst we were in the vicinity, ha! So we took the weight off for a while, enjoyed a cold one, and listened to a few Irish jigs. It wasn’t too busy — probably more staff than punters — but it rounded off our day nicely. Well, not entirely, as we still needed supper, which came in the form of dough, tomato, and cheese — and honestly, one of the best pizzas we’ve had on our travels so far! Even better, it was ridiculously cheap: pizza, pasta, and a couple of soft drinks came in under a fiver — what’s not to love?
The following day we set out to explore more of the town. I’d researched the best places to see and discovered that within walking distance were Jodipan’s Rainbow Village and the Blue Village (Kampung Biru Arema). Our route would also take us past Alun-Alun Tugu Malang, one of the city’s most famous landmarks — a landscaped round garden with lotus ponds, pathways, benches, and a tall monument at its centre. It’s surrounded by colonial-era buildings, including Hotel Tugu Malang and the City Hall. The only drawback was the weather — a dull, grey day that wasn’t ideal for taking photos.
The first village we reached was the Blue Village, where houses, alleys, and pathways are painted predominantly in blue. It’s a tribute to Arema FC, Malang’s football club, whose team colours are blue. The village reflects the community’s strong support and identity with the club.
But beyond the paint, it’s very much a living neighbourhood. Kids race through the narrow lanes, women sit outside chatting while preparing food, and laundry in every shade hangs against the blue backdrop.
At first you feel like you’re intruding, but the locals welcome you warmly and the children call out cheerful hellos. It felt safe — and fascinating to say the least.
The lion is impossible to miss in the Blue Village, with murals proudly featuring Arema FC’s lion mascot. The team is nicknamed Singo Edan, which means “The Mad Lions” in Javanese. There’s also a giant lion statue — fierce, proud, and painted in Arema’s colours — the perfect symbol of Malang’s football-mad spirit. (I’m sure Man-City fans would love it if something like this popped up at home)!
I think we’d explored every nook and cranny so we continued across the road to the Rainbow village.
The village was a former riverside slum which has been transformed into a vibrant, colourful neighbourhood. It was initiated by students from Malang University and other community actors. They wanted to beautify the area, improve sanitation, reduce the threat of eviction, and boost community pride.
Paint companies and local government helped, both in resources and to get permissions.
There a small fee to enter but in return you can take a small handmade key ring as a souvenir.
It’s crazy but brilliant — colour everywhere: houses, roofs, and walls painted in bright, bold shades. Murals and art installations appear around every corner, even down the narrowest alleys. You can’t wait to see what’s waiting just around the next bend.
The most endearing thing, once again, is the mix of everyday life and visual spectacle. You get such an insight into life here. The people are so friendly and don’t seem to mind you filming or taking photos.
Doorways to homes are often left open, and you can’t help but take a quick peek inside. Many are simple, with just mattresses on the floor; in others, women sit together, some preparing food, others deep in conversation. One man was filling out forms — just normal life, unfolding against this colourful backdrop.
The Rainbow Village stretches across both sides of the river, connected by a bridge. After fully exploring one side, we headed for the bridge. At the bottom, a lady was taking payment, which we assumed was the entrance fee for the other side. It was only pennies, so we paid, received yet another key ring, and started across.
At the top of the steps, I realised it was one of those bridges with glass panels running down the centre. The bridge wasn’t that wide to begin with, and although the glass was opaque, I still don’t like walking on it — you can’t help but think it’s not going to take your weight. So you should have seen my technique: one leg on either side of the glass, scurrying across to avoid the edges. Thankfully, only Shane was behind me to witness it.
He, of course, started freaking out too and even debated walking all the way around back to the main road — a much longer route. Meanwhile, I was on the other side trying to convince him it was fine… though after the way I’d just crossed, I wasn’t exactly the best person to give encouragement, ha! Anyway, he did it — looked just as ridiculous as me, but he made it.
At the bottom of the steps on the far side, another lady was waiting to take payment. We explained we’d just paid, but she shook her head and said, “No — different village.” Anyway, it was only pennies again, so we weren’t going to argue. It just looked like we’d paid twice at the other side . On the positive, we now have a growing collection of key rings, ha!
This village was just as colourful, and down by the river even the floor had been painted. We sat for a while in a shaded spot, just taking it all in. Chickens wandered happily on the other side — it was all totally fascinating. Exploring further we even came across a little seating area overlooking the river that turned out to be a library for the villagers, with shelves filled with books.
We fully explored and took far too many photographs — it was impossible not to in a place like this.
We walked back a different way to see a bit more of the city, crossed a few more nightmare roads, and decided it was time to eat.
I’d Googled a restaurant that supposedly did beef rendang — one of my favourite dishes — so we went inside and I asked if they had it. The guy said yes, so we took a seat outside.
We waited quite a while, and I joked, “I hope he understood me and doesn’t bring something we can’t eat.” Well, two minutes later our “rendang” arrived… in the form of two drinks! Not quite what I had in mind. I asked what it was, and he replied “Rendang” — probably wondering why I was asking when I’d ordered it.
At least it was edible — in fact, it was delicious! Something I wished we’d discovered earlier. I snapped a photo and asked ever-helpful Google to identify it. Turns out it was “Wedang” — ahhh, suddenly the translation mix-up made sense.
So, we enjoyed our drinks, paid up… and then went for a Maccy D’s-ha!
As I mentioned earlier, one of the main reasons for visiting Malang was to see Mount Bromo. Many tours leave from here, and the most popular one is to see the sunrise. I’d read plenty of reviews, and most people said it was the highlight of their time in Java — something not to be missed.
I looked at Shane’s face when I told him most tours pick you up at 1 a.m. — yes, A.M., not P.M. — daft o’clock! But it’s not as if we couldn’t catch up on sleep, and honestly, I like doing things that shake up your routine. So, before Shane could disagree, I booked the tour. We were going — sleep or no sleep!
We weren’t going until the following early hours of the morning, so we decided to have a low-key day: do some writing, catch up on the mammoth number of photos from the Rainbow and Blue Villages, and then just head out for dinner. Hopefully, we could grab a few hours of sleep before meeting our driver, who had since messaged to say, “Be ready outside the hotel at 12:30.”
I couldn’t sleep beforehand — too afraid I’d oversleep — so I just read for a couple of hours, all the while listening to the snoring beside me. Yes, of course — wifey will wake you up, you sleep like a baby, ha!
12:30 a.m., waiting outside the hotel — pitch black and hammering down with rain. I’d checked the forecast and it did say rain, but we weren’t too concerned. It was a three-and-a-half–hour drive to Mount Bromo, and if the forecast was right, the morning was going to be good — let’s hope!
There were only two others with us on the tour. Shane sat alongside the driver, and I was in the back with two young Indonesian women. One spoke English and said she was from Borneo and was visiting her sister. The other who was younger was her niece. Her niece had visited Bromo before and wanted to share the experience with her aunt.
We’d only been driving for about half an hour when the driver pulled over and informed us that this was where we would wait for the jeep. I was quite surprised, as I had thought we’d transfer into the jeeps once we got up to Bromo. We waited around 10–15 minutes before a couple of jeeps arrived, as there was another group also waiting. We went along with the two young women and climbed into the back of ours. This would be fun—it was just two small bench seats facing each other.
Quickly, it became clear why we had transferred into the jeeps. We hadn’t driven far before we were already starting to climb. More jeeps appeared on the road, and soon we were in a convoy heading up the mountain. This would be interesting in the thick of night. The road twisted and turned, and in the distance you could see a trail of headlights snaking up the mountainside. Apart from that light, it was pitch black—and I really didn’t want to know what the drops were like at the edge of the road. The smell of diesel hung heavy in the air from the convoy, and as we climbed higher, the cool air became more noticeable. With the driver’s window down, the chill swept straight into the jeep.
We had wrapped up for this trip, as I’d read it would be cold at such a high altitude before sunrise. So we layered up as best we could. The young girls wore big puffa jackets, though they probably felt the cold more than us—or at least I hoped so.
Eventually, the jeeps reached a plateau, and this was where the off-road experience began. This was the “Sea of Sand” I’d read about—a vast plain of volcanic ash. There were jeeps everywhere—front, back, and to the sides of us—all trying to find the best route across the sand. We splashed through streams, some almost like rivers, and were bumped around so much it was actually quite exhilarating.
Up ahead, another trail of lights snaked higher up the mountain—just how high were we climbing? Before long, we were caught in what could only be described as a mountain traffic jam. Rush hour at the volcano. Then, slowly, one by one, the jeeps began to climb again.
This section was steep, with tight bends. I don’t think the drivers ever left first gear. Up and up we went—it just kept climbing. Finally, the road levelled out, and we passed rows of makeshift cafes and what looked like a small village—up here, so high above the world. Crazy!
Many of the jeeps had pulled over. It made sense—with so many visitors here, you could grab food and drink before continuing up. We didn’t stop, though; instead, we carried on climbing higher until we reached a similar spot, only further up the mountain. By the looks of it, this was as far as the jeeps could go. They were parked one after another along the winding road.
From here, we followed our guide on foot, leaving the road behind and walking along a narrow alleyway lined on both sides with cafés and souvenir stalls. Many vendors had taken advantage of the cold, selling coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. People wandered about dressed as though they were at Everest Base Camp! It really wasn’t that cold—well, not to us anyway.
It was around 4 a.m. and still pitch black, but the atmosphere around the makeshift cafés was buzzing. There were hundreds of people—of all nationalities—all waiting for the same thing. Our guide led us to one of the cafés and said, “Have a seat, get a hot drink, and wait here awhile”.
Around 4:50 am our guide returned and said ‘let’s go’ we only had to walk a short distance passed all the cafes until it opened up to a viewpoint and you could see the sky starting to change.
OMG, it was breathtaking—that moment in time when there’s almost silence from the crowds, all waiting for the sunrise. The sky was in that stage of deep blue fading into indigo, then into a fiery band of orange and red glowing brightly on the horizon. It wouldn’t be long before the sun made its long-awaited appearance, enhancing the spectacular setting before us. The contrast was striking: the dark outline of the mountains below, a blanket of mist and cloud drifting through the valleys.
And then, as the sky grew lighter, Mount Bromo revealed itself. Rising above the blanket of clouds, its dark, perfect cone stood in sharp silhouette against the dawn. From its crater, a steady plume of smoke billowed upwards, curling and drifting on the cool morning air.
There could be no better place to witness this daily occurrence. To the mountain, it was just another dawn—but to us, it was one of life’s moments. How lucky we were to see this with our own eyes. It was an extraordinary sight—this living volcano emerging from a sea of mist. I found it almost spiritual, as I’m sure many others did too, high above the clouds and on top of the world. In front of our eyes, the colours and the landscape changed minute by minute. The clouds shifted quickly, the plume of smoke twisted in different directions—it was like a movie unfolding. And it wasn’t just Mount Bromo; it was the whole caldera before us. Wow. It truly was a “wow” moment!
We stayed until the morning had fully broken, the mist cleared from the valley, leaving only wisps clinging to the mountain tops, shifting clouds, and the rising plumes from Bromo’s crater. In a heartbeat, we’d give up sleep to witness this again—we both agreed it was one of the most spectacular sights we had ever seen, a truly special moment. Walking back to the jeep, we almost felt on a high. It was amazing!
The convoy of jeeps slowly made its way back down the mountain. In the light of day, we could finally see just how high we had climbed. It was quite scary winding down with the hairpin bends and steep drops into the valley. It takes real skill and concentration for the drivers to navigate these mountain roads.
Back at the “Sea of Sand,” we finally saw Bromo rising from the ashes. In the thick of night, we hadn’t even realised the volcano was right there beside us. The vast plain around us was a desert of volcanic ash stretching in every direction. The flat expanse felt almost lunar, with fine grey dust underfoot and hardly any vegetation.
We parked alongside a row of other jeeps, where once again makeshift cafés had sprung up and many people were happily taking breakfast. It felt strange to think it was still only morning. From here, if you wanted, you could walk up to Bromo and climb right to the rim of the crater. We hadn’t even realised this was possible. The other two in our group weren’t interested—they were content with breakfast and taking pictures. We, on the other hand, decided to seize the opportunity and climb the volcano. After all, it’s not every day you get the chance to do something like that.
There were lots of men with horses, offering rides to the steps leading up to the crater. I hadn’t ridden for years, so it might have been nice, but I felt sorry for the horses, ferrying tourists back and forth all morning. Plenty of people were taking advantage, but we were happy to walk. Along the way, stalls were set up selling drinks and small offerings made of dried flowers for the mountain.
We took a short break when we reached the steps, catching our breath before joining the crowds climbing slowly to the rim. The climb itself wasn’t too bad, especially as we were already high up in altitude.
As we neared the top, the acrid smell of sulphur hit us. It grew stronger with every step, so pungent that we had to cover our noses and mouths with our scarves.
It was a bit scary at the rim, to say the least. The remains of a crumbled barrier were all that stood between us and the crater itself—huge, with depths far greater than the steps we had just climbed. Acrid smoke billowed upwards, a constant reminder that this was very much an active volcano. One wrong move near the edge and you’d be a goner, so I stayed well back.
If you walked further along the pathway there was more of a barrier, but to be honest, the smell was getting overwhelming—I think my eyes even started to burn. The quicker I got the video and made my way back down the mountain, the better! Shane had been a little behind me on the steps, and when I turned around, he was clinging frozen to a post at the top of the steps. I signalled an about-turn: I’d seen it, taken the photo—time to get out of there. Scary Mary!
We rejoined our group back at the Jeep and had one more stop before heading back and This was to the Teletubby Hills, which are a series of soft, rounded green hills that look almost surreal against the barren Sea of Sand — so named because they resemble the grassy, rolling landscape from the children’s TV show Teletubbies. They reminded us of the chocolate hills we’d visited in Bohol, Philippines.
It was then time to head back. Even from here, we didn’t quite realise just how high up we still were. It must have taken an hour and a half to get down off the mountain, with countless hairpin bends and steep drops. At one point, we even crossed a narrow ridge with sheer drops on either side—Shane didn’t dare look!
It was actually quite beautiful, with fabulous scenery all around. The lower we went, the lusher the vegetation became, with farmland spreading across the slopes. As stunning as it all was, we were more than glad to be back at the bottom on flat ground—that’s for sure.
It still took around an hour to get back to the hotel, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. We were absolutely shattered by now—the night without sleep had finally taken its toll. So, back at the hotel, it was straight to bed to catch a few hours’ rest before dinner.
So that brought us to the end of our time in Malang. We had one last night to enjoy the town—wandering the kampungs and maybe even visiting the Irish bar once more. After the special day we’d had, I think it was worthy of a cheers: cheers to Bromo, cheers to the rainbow village, and cheers to the wonderfully friendly people of Malang.
Tomorrow we head to our last stop in Java. We don’t have to travel too far—to the city of Surabaya. Surabaya is Java’s second city after Jakarta, so we’re expecting more of a big-city vibe, with shopping malls and modern bustle. It will be different, but as always, that’s part of the adventure—and we’re really looking forward to it.
Surabaya
We took a taxi back to the bus station in Malang and were booked on the 11 a.m. bus to Surabaya. It was 10:30 when we arrived, and we weren’t quite sure where to go, but across the station I spotted the bus company I’d booked with. As we headed that way, a group of guys called out, “Surabaya?” To which we replied, “Yes!” They took my bag and ushered us towards a bus. They told us to get straight on—maybe it was an earlier bus, but no worries, as long as it was going to Surabaya we didn’t mind. They checked my ticket, so all was good.
We went to the back of the bus where there was a lot more room, especially since we had our small backpacks with us as well.
It was funny—just before we left, lots of different food sellers made their way up the bus, offering all sorts of things: fried bananas, nuts, crisps, drinks. I decided to try some fried banana, but it wasn’t what I expected. Instead, it was a piece of banana covered with a thick, sticky, porridge-like starchy pudding, wrapped in a pandan leaf. I opened one, took one look, and wrapped it back up—no thank you. Worst part was, I had three of them—ha!
Next came the buskers, crooning local songs and strumming a guitar as they made their way up the bus. Then came the round with a bowl for tips, made from tin foil—bless them. We offered a few pennies, and off they got, and finally we were on our way.
The journey to Surabaya was only about an hour and a half—a shorter one for us today.
As we neared I was checking our location on Maps — we’d arrived in Surabaya, but at a different bus terminal than stated on our ticket. We stayed seated as everyone else got off, but then one of the staff said, “All off here.” Ahh, that must have been the difference between the 10:30 bus and the 11:00 one.
We weren’t fazed, though. The original station was only 15 minutes from our hotel, and this one was about 30. With the convenience of Grab (Asia’s version of Uber), it didn’t really matter. We just walked up the street away from the station and hailed a taxi. It took about 5–10 minutes, but the driver was on his way.
We did get a few strange looks — two westerners hanging around in that spot stood out. Kids shouted, “Where you from?” and almost everyone who walked past said hello. Even a pilot heading to the airport walked by, did a double take, and waved.
That’s one of the things we love about Indonesia: the people are so friendly, and you never feel unsafe. It really takes the stress out of being stranded in a strange place. Sure enough, a few minutes later our taxi arrived, and we were on our way to the hotel.
The first thing we noticed as we headed into the city was just how green and clean it looked. The avenue we were on must have been one of the main roads—it stretched for miles, lined with tall trees and lush planting along the boulevard.
It stayed like this almost all the way to our hotel. Once again, I had chosen a central district called Tunjungan. It was said to be bustling with shopping malls and restaurants, yet still only a short walk from some of the cultural sights.
Our hotel was on a bustling main street, and we liked the look of it immediately. We quickly checked in and were back out exploring in no time. They were right about the shopping here—just a stone’s throw from our hotel was Tunjungan Plaza, and it was one huge shopping centre. Getting there was a little easier too, as there seemed to be proper pedestrian crossings where the cars actually abided by the rules when the lights turned red—hallelujah! We’d also noticed quite a few overhead crossings. Such a simple thing, but you wouldn’t believe how much easier it made crossing the road.
The best thing yet was that there was a crossing right outside our hotel, and it was the best crossing I’d ever heard—yes, heard! When the lights changed to red it played the most cheerful musical tune. It brought a smile to my face—I loved it!
We had a short list of bits to pick up from the mall, but actually finding the shop we needed was another thing entirely. The place was enormous — six huge plazas, all interconnected like separate shopping centres joined together. Under these roofs you could find everything from upmarket designer stores to more everyday high-street brands, and each plaza had its own enormous food court.
We only went into two of the plazas, but luckily we found what we needed and got out of there. I’m lucky I even got Shane into a shop in the first place!
There was certainly no shortage of places to eat here. Walking back towards the hotel, I even spotted a plane that had been converted into a coffee shop and restaurant—yep, a Boeing 737 all glammed up. Really quirky!
As night fell, the street came alive. It was the weekend, and the area was jam-packed with locals. Tables and chairs spilled out onto the street from many of the restaurants, most of them already occupied. Others simply gathered to hang out. Just a little way down from our hotel, groups of locals spread blankets on the pavement to meet with friends. Many had takeaway food packages, while others had prepared picnics. It seemed like a funny place to spend the evening, but it was clearly a popular weekend tradition. One especially cute detail was the piles of shoes to the side of each picnic blanket, as everyone had taken them off before sitting down — a normal custom here in Asia.
The skyline was also impressive, with towering skyscrapers by the mall lit up, and several international hotel chains dominating the night sky.
There isn’t a big bar scene as being predominantly Muslim alcohol is not a big part of life for many locals. However being a big modern city you can still find a drink in some of the hotels or restaurants.
We happened to find a brilliant sky bar just a short walk from our hotel, up on the 17th floor of one of the bigger hotels. It had an impressive outdoor terrace with a great band playing — perfect for us to enjoy a couple of drinks. And it really was just a couple, since drinks are expensive here — which probably does us a favour anyway!
We were only in Surabaya for a couple of days, but we always like to see what a place has to offer. So the following day we set out to explore what they call the old town, and then head on to Chinatown — all of which seemed doable on foot.
There definitely aren’t many westerners here — in the short time we’ve been around, I could count them on one hand. So walking through town gets us quite a bit of attention. Cars beep their horns and wave, and people we pass say hello and ask where we’re from. It was crazy — it almost made us feel like celebrities.
We headed first to the Hero’s monument (Monumen Tugu Pahlawan dan). It’s the most famous landmark in the city — a tall white pillar built to honor the heroes of the Battle of Surabaya (10th November 1945), when Indonesians fought against the returning Dutch and Allied forces after WWII. That battle was one of the most important moments in Indonesia’s independence struggle, and the monument has become a symbol of national pride.
We wandered around the Monument and even picked up a couple of hangers-on in the form of some local kids who wanted their pictures taken — which we were more than happy to oblige.
Afterwards, we found a bench in the shade and read the story of the battle, wanting to get a better understanding of what happened here. It was quite sad to learn that an estimated 6,000–16,000 Indonesians were killed during the fighting, with thousands of civilians also caught up in the violence.
That huge loss of life is why 10 November is now marked every year as Heroes Day (Hari Pahlawan) across Indonesia, and why the Heroes Monument here in Surabaya is such an important national memorial.
We then continued towards Chinatown passing through streets lined with old Dutch colonial buildings. Many of them date back to the early 1900s, when Surabaya was an important trading hub under Dutch rule. You can still see the European influence even though a lot of them are now a little worn and crumbling with age. It gives the area a real mix of old and new — colonial architecture standing side by side with busy local shops and street food stalls.
We knew we’d arrived in Chinatown when we came to the impressive Chinese gate, and beyond it the street was strung with red lanterns and lined with old shop houses, with Chinese temples tucked in between.
We found lots of alleyways leading into local kampungs (small villages). In the maze of alleys — which we love to explore — we came across colourful murals and little restaurants. One street in particular was really quirky, lined with a few eateries, and we could only imagine how magical it must look at night with the lanterns and fairy lights.
Beyond that, we ended up smack bang in the middle of one of the villages. One thing that always strikes me is the communal feel of these places. People here have very little, yet they look so happy, always smiling and making us feel so welcome. I love catching these little snippets of daily life in the narrow streets — people washing, preparing food, kids always playing outside.
At one point a group of young boys asked if they could take a picture with us, which of course we happily agreed to, while their mum giggled nearby as she washed clothes the old-fashioned way — using a washboard propped in a plastic bowl, scrubbing by hand.
It was so hot that after exploring Chinatown we decided to head back. By the time we got to the hotel it would be late afternoon anyway, and this would be our last evening here. Our stay in Surabaya has been short and sweet, but we were quite impressed — the city actually surprised us with how modern and green it felt. Wide tree-lined streets and little parks. It still has all the noise and chaos you’d expect from a big city, but at the same time it’s clear there’s been an effort to keep it clean and green — apparently it’s even won international awards for its sustainability efforts.
Surabaya marks the end of our journey across Java — though definitely not the end of our time in Indonesia. From here, we’ll be making our way back into Malaysia, mostly because there’s one big stop we missed the first time round: Singapore. It felt like the perfect moment to tick it off and renew our visa at the same time.
Plus, returning to Borneo was too tempting to resist. There are still a handful of places in Malaysia calling our name, but with rainy season rolling through certain regions, we’re in and out of countries as we follow the sun and the best weather.
Slow travel isn’t always a straight line — sometimes it’s a bit weather-chasing — but that’s all part of the adventure.
Our first stop, however, won’t be Singapore — but Johor Bahru. We chose JB (as it’s known) thanks to its close proximity to Singapore, and after a bit of strategic travel-research we realised we could simply day-trip across the border. Singapore may be just a small island, but it’s its own country perched at the very tip of Malaysia, making this a clever little travel hack.
By basing ourselves in Johor Bahru, we can enjoy a comfortable waterfront apartment for a fraction of the price we’d pay if we stayed in Singapore itself — and still have cheap, easy access to the city. Sounds like a pretty savvy move for an intrepid pair of travellers, if you ask me!
Whether it proves to be as smart as it sounds… I’ll report back.
For now, you can follow this chapter under Malaysia – Round Two, and once we wrap up there, our Indonesian story picks right back up where we left off.
Bali
Sanur
After our little side-trip back into Malaysia, we touched down in Bali once again. Bali, being one of the most popular Indonesian islands, is brilliant in its own right — and also a great gateway to many of the neighbouring islands.
With our visa renewed, we decided to enjoy Bali for a little while first, before heading east to the island of Flores and the Komodo National Park.
It felt so nice arriving back in Bali, this time knowing exactly what to expect. Even the airport experience was smoother the second time around. We skipped the long visa-on-arrival queues thanks to our newfound knowledge of the self-scanners (we could’ve done that last time but had no idea!). We also knew precisely where to grab a Grab taxi and how to politely brush off the swarm of drivers offering rides. Honestly, in Bali, they’re on you the moment you step out of arrivals—but even that felt kind of welcoming in its own intense way.
Sanur was our first destination, another place we’d visited last year. We were only staying a couple of nights, as we planned to visit Lembongan Island afterwards.
We found a really cheap room in a great location, and it had excellent reviews. As long as it’s clean, it’s always about the reviews for us — and for a couple of nights, it sounded perfect. And it was.
Tucked down a narrow alleyway, it was a small homestay with just a handful of rooms, set among the family’s home and lovely gardens. It had everything we needed, and for a tenner a night — with breakfast for both of us — who were we to complain? Add to that the most delicious breakfast brought to our patio: the guy made the best banana pancake (light as a feather!) and a beautiful fruit platter. I almost felt like saying, “You could charge more — we’d happily pay it!”Just goes to show!
We only had one full day back in Sanur, so we headed to the beach path, which was just a short walk away. Sanur has this amazing beach promenade that stretches for about 7 kilometres, running roughly from the northern end near the Grand Bali Beach Hotel down to Mertasari Beach in the south.
We’d forgotten just how beautiful it was — perfect for walking and soaking up the atmosphere. We joined the pathway out front of the Bali Icon Mall shopping centre (which is also fab) and decided to walk south. The walkway splits into two in many sections — one side for walking and the other for cycling.
We loved strolling past all the beautiful beachside cafés and the amazing beachfront hotels. The planting along the pathway is lush and tropical, and it just has that vibe that Bali always seems to have. The Balinese people are so lovely too; it’s a joy to stroll along, saying hello to the locals who always greet you.
Along the pathway is the Bali Sea Turtle Conservation and Education Centre, a community-based project dedicated to protecting endangered sea turtles — especially the olive ridley and green turtles that nest on Bali’s beaches.
The centre focuses on rescuing turtle eggs, hatching them safely, and releasing the baby turtles back into the sea once they’re strong enough. Sometimes, visitors can even join in the turtle release activities, usually in the mornings or late afternoons, depending on hatching times and conditions.
It was amazing to see, and such a wonderful reminder of the care and respect the Balinese have for their environment.
Continuing along the pathway, we couldn’t resist stopping for lunch. All the cafés and restaurants looked so inviting — many with typical Balinese décor and stunning rattan furniture on decks facing the sea. What’s not to love!
As you walk along the beach path, you also pass by small shrines, their grass-thatched roofs peeking out from behind frangipani trees. Offerings of flowers and incense are placed on the steps — a devotion that seems to be part of everyday life here.
We carried on after lunch and walked all the way to the end of the pathway. It becomes much quieter at the far end. We eventually did an about-turn and headed back — but not before having a dip in that inviting sea.
The only thing about the sea at Sanur is that it’s really shallow. It’s not a bad thing; it’s just that rather than swim, you end up sitting and wallowing. There’s no point walking too far out either, as it stays shallow for quite a while. This is because it sits in front of a long coral reef that runs parallel to the shore.
This reef acts like a natural barrier, protecting the coastline and creating this stretch of calm shallow water. Still, it serves its purpose and cools you down. We sat there for ages — it was so relaxing!
We dried off and headed back to the homestay. We were able to cut up through the mall, with the added bonus of the air conditioning. It’s crazy how they keep that place so cool, especially since the entrance from the beach is open-air with escalators leading up to the levels. The blast of cold air as you travel up — pure bliss!
Evenings in Sanur are much more laid-back than in other parts of Bali. Dining along the beach pathway is lovely — there are so many restaurants offering a mix of Indonesian dishes and Western options. Some places have live singers, but the vibe is definitely more chilled than party. It’s the same on the road running parallel to the beach: lots of restaurants, and a few bars here and there, but it’s very much a dining scene.
We enjoyed a nice dinner, a couple of drinks, and called it a night — tomorrow we’d be taking the boat over to the nearby island of Nusa Lembongan. It was partly why we chose to start our trip in Sanur; it’s the easiest and quickest place to catch the boat across.
Nusa Lembongan
The following morning, we took a short taxi ride to the port. It’s a busy place, with boats departing for Nusa Lembongan, Nusa Penida, the Gili Islands, and Lombok.
Lembongan is the nearest of the islands, and several companies run fast boats throughout the day — the crossing only takes around 30 to 40 minutes.
We did end up getting delayed though, and the port terminal is a bit chaotic to say the least. Hordes of people are constantly passing through, and they shout the destinations and boat names over the tannoy — but you can hardly understand a word they say! Luckily, they give you a lanyard with your boat name on it, so I kept an eye on other passengers and moved when they did.
It turned out our boat had some technical issues that needed repairing, so we were about an hour late — but better that than breaking down at sea!
We visited Lembongan last year, but stayed on Jungutbatu Beach, which is probably the most popular beach resort on the island with its long stretch of sand.
While we were there, we walked one day along an amazing coastal route to a small resort area called Mushroom Bay. It was such a lovely spot, a small sheltered bay, charming cafés, and little shops. We said then that if we ever returned, we’d stay here — hence our visit now.
I made sure to book the boat going directly to Mushroom Bay and not Jungutbatu. It wouldn’t be the end of the world arriving there, but it would mean having to take an island taxi truck over to Mushroom Bay. Fares are a little more expensive here than on Bali itself, and there are no ride-hailing apps like Grab on the island — so it’s back to good old-fashioned negotiating if you want to take a taxi.
Thankfully, the crossing was smooth and the sea wasn’t too choppy — which it often can be here! There was a tiny floating jetty from the boat to the beach, and you had to time your step with the waves to make it onto the sand dry. I noticed a few people didn’t quite get the timing right and ended up with wet legs — ha!
The hotel I booked said it was a five-minute walk from the beach. We found the directions on the map and spotted some steps at the corner of the beach that led uphill. Thankfully, they were right — it was only a few minutes’ walk up, just as they’d said. Still, it was hard work with heavy bags in the heat!
The hotel was stunning! You entered through beautiful Balinese gates into a lush garden, complete with a family shrine — which is common in Bali (and Lembongan is still part of Bali). The aroma of burning incense filled the air — perfect!
It was a small, family-run place with just eight rooms, including three little bungalows, and a gorgeous, inviting swimming pool surrounded by frangipani, banana, and palm trees. Yes — we’d landed in paradise! And to top it all off, they had the two most adorable dogs, Teddy and Gomer, who quickly became our best friends.
We spent the rest of the day by the pool — it would’ve been rude not to — joined by our new furry friends, who hopped up onto the sun loungers for cuddles. These dogs must have a great life!
At sunset, we strolled back down to the beach to check out the vibe — and it didn’t disappoint. With just a handful of beachside restaurants and a couple set up with beanbags on the sand, it was perfect for us — all that we needed.
Across the beach was a small road that runs through the town. We remembered it from last year, so we headed that way first to see what it was like at night. There were plenty of restaurants and local warungs, just as we’d remembered, but it was really quiet. We came across one restaurant that seemed popular — there was a singer on, which probably helped — so we decided to eat there. It was okay, nothing to write home about, but it filled us up.
Afterwards, we wandered back down to the beach — I had a feeling those beanbags had our names on them. Luckily, there were two free. We settled in, relaxed with a cocktail in hand, gazing up at the constellation of stars and listening to the sea lapping gently against the shore. What more could you want? I could definitely get used to this island life.
The following morning at breakfast, we were greeted by our furry friends — and who were we to resist giving them lots of cuddles? They were too adorable! Yes, they really do have the perfect life here.
With full stomachs and happy dogs, we set off to explore the side of the island we’d never visited before. We had a plan for the day — first stop, Devil’s Tears, a natural attraction about a 20-minute walk from our hotel.
Devil’s Tears is a dramatic coastal spot where powerful waves crash into the cliffs and explode back into the air, creating a misty spray — hence the name “tears.”
It was even more impressive than we’d imagined. The coastline on this side of the island is much more rugged, and after the walk, it was refreshing to sit and let the sea spray cool us down.
It was really hot so we’d just take our time, keep hydrated and plenty of rest stops.
From Devil’s Tears, we followed the route along the coast, hoping at least to catch a sea breeze. We passed by Dream Beach, a small idyllic bay. We didn’t stop for a swim, as the current can be quite strong here, and continued towards the seaweed farming area.
The shallow waters between Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceningan — the small island alongside — are perfect for seaweed farming, which is one of the island’s main traditional industries. Farmers grow and harvest seaweed that’s later dried and exported for use in cosmetics, food products, and pharmaceuticals.
You can see grids of bamboo poles and ropes stretching across the shallow water, with farmers wading out to tend their crops and carrying baskets of seaweed on their shoulders.
The stretch of road here was lovely, with many restaurants overlooking the seaweed farms across to Nusa Ceningan — the direction we were heading.
To reach Nusa Ceningan, we had to cross the island’s iconic Yellow Bridge, also known as the Bridge of Love, which connects Lembongan to Ceningan. It’s only wide enough for scooters and pedestrians — no cars can cross.
It was a bit hair-raising crossing the bridge, as you have to move over to let the constant stream of scooters pass by, which makes you feel a little too close to the edge for comfort. Add to that the slight bounce underfoot — which I hate — and I was very glad when we finally made it across. Phew!
We didn’t really know much about Nusa Ceningan, but as we made our way along the coastal road, it actually took us by surprise. There were so many beautiful places to stay and gorgeous restaurants with views across to Lembongan. It was incredibly scenic, lined with palms and offering glimpses of the ocean around every corner.
Our plan was to walk to Mahana Point and the Blue Lagoon, as the lady at our hotel had told us they were very beautiful. She did say it was quite a long walk there and back, but since we enjoy walking, we were prepared to give it a go.
The road twisted and climbed uphill — of course it did! — but at the top we were rewarded with the most spectacular views, especially from the Blue Lagoon, where the water was such a vivid shade of blue it almost didn’t look real, set against the rugged cliffs.
It was only a short walk from the Blue Lagoon across to Mahana Point, a cliffside bar where you can watch people cliff jumping into the sea. It was too late in the day to see any jumping, as the tide had changed, but it was the perfect spot to stop and enjoy a drink with incredible views. A few surfers were out making the most of the waves, so it was lovely to sit back, relax, and watch them.
We stayed quite a while — it was hard to find the motivation to leave, knowing we had a long walk back. Still, we figured we’d be fine once we found our stride.
It was still hot, and luckily the cliffside bar had bottles of sunscreen you could help yourself to, so we armoured up and set off on our merry way — literally, after a couple of cold ones, ha!
We’d only been walking a few minutes when an electric buggy from a nearby posh hotel stopped and asked if we wanted a lift down to the bridge. We asked how much, and he said, “No, it’s free,” so who were we to say no? He must’ve thought, look at that old couple walking in this heat — ha! Whatever his reasons, we were more than happy to hop in and shave a couple of miles off the walk back. The people here are so lovely; little things like this really show their generosity and kindness.
Crossing the bridge on the way back didn’t seem quite as daunting this time — maybe that was down to the cold ones, hey!
Across the bridge, a large congregation was forming. We soon realised a temple ceremony was about to take place. Locals were dressed in traditional attire, carrying colourful offerings, and many had musical instruments, so perhaps there would be dance performances as well. I suggested we wait awhile — after all, we’d saved time with the free lift to the bridge.
After about fifteen minutes, though, it still hadn’t started, so we decided we’d best carry on, as we still had a fair walk back. I’m sure it would have been wonderful to see, but you can’t win them all.
So we plodded on, and for some reason the walk didn’t seem so bad on the way back. We’d definitely clocked up some miles — in fact, without the buggy ride it might have been a bit too much, so we were very grateful for that.
When we arrived back at the hotel, I don’t think we’ve ever seen a pool look so inviting! We went straight in for a cool down, then gave our little furry friends a cuddle as they greeted us on our return — too cute, those dogs!
Last year when we were here, we went on the most amazing snorkelling trip in the hope of seeing manta rays. The trip was fabulous, but we didn’t get to see them due to poor visibility at Manta Point, as the sea was extremely choppy.
So, we decided to book the same trip again in the hope we might get lucky this time — let’s see!
So, the following morning after breakfast, we were picked up from the hotel and driven north to Mangrove Point, where the tour starts.
Our first stop was Manta Point, which is actually located just off Nusa Penida — the larger island alongside Lembongan and Ceningan. But just like last time, the water was really choppy, with waves crashing as we travelled to the point, so I wasn’t holding out much hope.
When we arrived at Manta Point, there were a few boats anchored. We quickly got our fins and snorkels and jumped right in. It was still choppy, so if you’re not a strong swimmer, I can imagine it would feel quite scary. However, you can choose to wear a life jacket if you need to, and three of the crew came into the water as well — two of them carrying lifebuoys for safety.
We were the orange group, named so it was easy to stick together. No sooner had we gotten in the water than one of the crew shouted, “Orange group, Manta, Manta! Here, here!” Brilliant — I swam over in his direction, and there it was, coming our way.
It was a fantastic sight — the way they swim so gracefully; I was mesmerised watching it glide past. There were at least two; I could see one in the distance as another passed us by. We were so happy that we’d got to see them this time. I hadn’t been banking on it with the waves, but I think last time the sea just wasn’t as clear, obscuring visibility. They were most probably there — we just couldn’t see them. Well, we had now, and that’s all that mattered.
Happy that we had all seen the manta as a group, they shouted for us to return to the boat. Unfortunately, one lady was struggling to climb the ladder, which wasn’t easy with the boat bobbing about. It’s also tricky because you have to remove your fins before clambering up. With help from the crew and those of us still in the water, we managed to get her back on board, but by this time she had started to have a panic attack. She was with her young son, who became upset seeing his mother in distress.
She was in good hands — the crew were very attentive, and an Australian on the tour who was a qualified lifeguard was brilliant in helping her. She didn’t feel able to continue, so we made a detour back to where her husband was waiting to meet her. We all just felt sad that this had happened, but I’m sure she was fine, especially once she was back on land.
The tour takes you to three different snorkelling spots, including Manta Point, but because of the detour they had to alter the locations a little. The next two stops weren’t quite as good as what we’d experienced last time, there was some nice fish and coral but at the end of the day we got to see the Manta, and that was the main reason for the trip — mission accomplished!
We were shattered when we got back — swimming in that choppy sea really takes it out of you — so we spent the rest of the day by the pool with our little doggie friends. As night fell, we flopped back down on the beanbags on the beach — it’s a hard life!
One walk we wanted to do whilst on the island was the one we’d done initially when we discovered Mushroom Bay last year, but this time it would be in reverse and walking to Jungutbatu. We’d loved the walk the first time, so we couldn’t see it being any different, and there was also an amazing bakery in Jungutbatu — our aim was to walk there and get lunch. Sounded good to me!
So we set off, heading first towards Tamarind Beach, which is only a short walk from Mushroom Bay. What was nice to see here was that the sea was in this time — it wasn’t on our last visit — and you cannot believe how blue it is. We crossed to the far end of the beach, where steps lead up to a coastal path. The views from up here are absolutely stunning, with lots of bougainvillea in flower — the bright pink against the most wonderful turquoise sea is just beautiful. The path passes a few stunning luxury hotels, real honeymoon-worthy places, before dropping down to a gorgeous little bay called Song Lambung Beach, which has two inviting beach cafes. You could easily spend the whole day just here.
We had a walk to do, but we were definitely stopping for a swim — the sea was far too inviting.
After we dried off, we continued along the boardwalk that winds around the coast — it’s just stunning! In the distance, you can see Bali and Mount Agung, the highest volcano on the island. The volcano was hidden beneath a blanket of cloud today, but we knew it was there — we’d seen it standing clear and proud on a previous visit.
This path continues all the way to Jungutbatu Beach, lined with stylish restaurants and relaxed café bars overlooking the water. It’s an absolute joy to walk.
Once we reached the beach, we cut through to the back road in the direction of the bakery — we were starving and ready for it. We sat in the same seats we used last year (creatures of habit!) and ordered the most delicious bagels smothered in cream cheese, washed down with gorgeous fruit smoothies. It did not disappoint — it was just as good as we’d remembered.
Fed and watered, we headed back the same way. The walk along the coastal path doesn’t take long at all, and it’s such a lovely route with sea views all of the way. Travelling by car, though, feels like a completely different story — the winding roads and steep hills make it seem much farther than it really is.
Back at Mushroom Bay for our final night, it would have been downright rude not to sink into the beanbags under the stars, pizza in hand. Someone has to do it, and I’m always happy to play the part!
Tomorrow we head back to Bali, this time staying in Seminyak, just a stone’s throw from Petitenget Beach, where we spent a short time last year.
Seminyak
The crossing back by boat was smooth — it’s great that it’s such a short trip, and we were back in Bali in no time. I’d booked the boat and taxi as a combined service, so as soon as we arrived at the port, the taxi driver was in touch to let us know where to meet.
It takes around 45 minutes to get from Sanur to Seminyak. It’s probably not that far, but in this part of Bali, the roads are always busy since it’s the main tourist hub, taking us past the airport and through Kuta.
We were quite excited, as we were also going to be meeting up later with a couple we met last year in the Philippines. They’re a Scottish couple who had moved to Australia to start a new life in Perth. We’d kept in touch, and they’d settled nicely into life there. Bali had become their go-to holiday destination, being just a short flight away.
The amazing thing was that we hadn’t planned it. While we were in Lembongan, she contacted me to ask if we’d be back in Bali, as they had booked a week’s holiday. It coincided exactly with our return — how brilliant was that? We’d had such a good time travelling together in some islands of the Philippines, so we were really looking forward to seeing them again and catching up on their life in Oz!
It was late afternoon by the time we checked into our hotel, and our friends were arriving only a couple of hours later, staying literally just a few minutes down the street.
The only problem was that earlier that day Shane had come down with a cold and was feeling really under the weather — he’d almost lost his voice and wasn’t feeling his best.
We didn’t want to let our friends down, and Shane said a few drinks might help anyway. So we met up and was so good to see them — it didn’t feel like eight months had passed since we’d last met. We had a great catch-up and even went in search of a late-night bar, like we always do!
The funny thing was, halfway through the night my voice started to go — and it wasn’t because of the karaoke we’d taken over. I couldn’t sing for love or money with this hoarse voice, but I joined in and tried nonetheless. We still had a fantastic night!
The next morning, we were both feeling pretty rough, really under the weather. We ended up staying in for a couple of days. It was a shame, as we’d been looking forward to seeing our friends, but sometimes you just have to listen to your body. If we were going to be sick anywhere, this was probably the best place — our room was spacious, with a comfy settee, and in many ways it felt more like an apartment. There was a good TV, and the pool was always empty, perfect for a quiet chill-out if we felt like it.
Luckily, we had the time, so we extended our stay for four more nights, bringing it to a total of eight nights in Seminyak, hoping that once we felt better, we could get back out and explore. We already knew the area a little, having spent time close by before—especially around the beachfront—so it didn’t feel like we were missing out too much.
There was also a well-stocked supermarket just across the road, ideal for picking up provisions and laying low for a few days. And with our friends staying for a week, we knew we’d soon be well enough to catch up and enjoy some time together.
By day three, we’d binge-watched a full season of Traitors and countless episodes of Grand Designs and A Place in the Sun. It had actually been quite nice having an excuse to do nothing, but at the same time, we were looking forward to feeling better.
So we agreed to meet up for dinner and drinks with our friends that night! It was good to be back out. We met at the restaurant on the beach and had another great evening. It wasn’t a late one, as we weren’t 100%, but we were getting there.
Feeling on the mend, we decided to book a sunrise tour together as a group to Mount Batur in two days, hoping we’d feel even better by then.
The next day, we still laid low, caught up on some work for the blog, and arranged to meet our friends on the beach for sunset.
Bali sunsets are simply breathtaking, and the atmosphere on the beach is priceless. We had the perfect spot on beanbags right at the water’s edge. The whole stretch of beach is dotted with laid-back seating, creating a chilled vibe that’s hard to beat.
We watched the sunset and had a few drinks. The plan was to grab something to eat and get to bed, as we were being picked up at 2 a.m. for the sunrise tour.
A restaurant that we’d visited a couple of times was just across from where we’d watched the sunset, and we happened to notice that it was ladies’ night — free drinks for ladies between 8–10 p.m. And guess what? It had just turned 8 p.m.! The food was also great here, so it was a no-brainer — why not enjoy a free drink with dinner?
Well, as you can imagine, we stumbled out at 10 p.m., having taken full advantage of the free drinks and danced our socks off. We just hoped we wouldn’t live to regret having booked the trip for the next morning!
With the pick up at 2 a.m., we had to get up just after 1 a.m. We’d managed a couple of hours’ sleep, but OMG we weren’t feeling our best, but I’m sure we’d survive. I rang our friends, who were awake and had even less sleep than us, and said we’d see them shortly.
Ten minutes later, our friends said they just couldn’t do it — they were so tired. I tried to convince them to come; they could sleep later, but tiredness got the better of them, so they decided to give it a miss.
So at 2 a.m., just Shane and I headed north to the volcano. We were so tired that we just tried to sleep the whole way as it was quite a drive.
When we were just a few miles away, we transferred into an open-topped Jeep and made the rest of the journey that way, which was quite exciting. It was cool up here, being so high and also the early hours, but we had come prepared with layers and jackets, having experienced something similar at Bromo in Java.
The Jeeps travel in convoy and take you to a spot overlooking Mount Batur and Lake Batur. Many people choose to trek to this point, which I think takes around two hours — so glad we didn’t opt for that today. Can you imagine?
It was now around 4:30 a.m., and the sun rises around 5:30, so all we could do was sit and wait. I was still so tired I tried to sleep in the back of the Jeep — imagining I’d wake up and it would all be over. Ha!
Shane gave me a tap when the sky started to change, shifting through several hues of orange and red. It was on its way!
All the Instagrammers were in full swing — standing on the bonnets of their jeeps, striking the all-too-familiar poses. They weren’t bothered about the sunset, just the photo — ha!
When the sun finally rose, it was beautiful, but unfortunately, there was still too much cloud over the volcano, so we didn’t get to see it in all its glory. Still, we’d done it at least. It was nothing like what we’d experienced at Bromo in Java — that was on a whole different level.
At least our friends hadn’t missed out on too much by turning over; it ended up being a long way to drive just to see a sunrise. If you did the trip from Ubud, it would’ve been much closer and not such an early start, but with a two-hour plus drive each way, we personally didn’t think it was worth it.
Back at our apartment, we caught up on some sleep and relaxed for the rest of the day. We couldn’t even be bothered to go out — a movie night was definitely on the cards.
Refreshed the following day, we decided to walk all the way down the beach to Canggu. We’d done this walk last year, so we knew it was quite a distance. The beach pathway at Seminyak only goes so far before it ends, and from there we continued across the sand. It’s a nice stretch to walk — quite flat, with plenty of little beach bars along the way-perfect to stop and hydrate. Most offer sun loungers, and it gets much quieter as you head further along. This whole stretch is pretty much a surfer’s paradise, so it’s not really the best for swimming. People were still in the water, but mostly just taking a dip near the shore. We weren’t too bothered about swimming — we were happy to keep cool with the sea breeze.
As we neared Canggu, there seemed to be a surf competition in full swing, and there was a lot of action on the beach. We continued a little further as we were heading to Echo Beach, one of our favourite spots
You can’t help but get that song stuck in your head — “Echo Beach, far away in time” — playing over and over. The younger ones won’t know it, but the middle-aged clan probably will — Martha and the Muffins. Great name too — ha!
Echo Beach is also the sunset spot in Canggu, and it gets crazy busy. Hordes of people sit alongside the temple, on the beach, and at the row of beach bars — which is, of course, where we used to watch it. It’s a really chill place to relax, whether in the daytime or at sunset, and just watch the surf. We remembered a place that did the best mango smoothie, so that’s where we headed.
This was as far as we’d walk — as a fair trek already — so after our smoothies (yes, they still did the best!), we headed back.
Just between Canggu and Seminyak is the popular Finns Beach Club. Our friends were there today, meeting some Scottish friends of theirs. As we passed, we looked out for them. I wasn’t sure if we’d spot them — it’s a big beach club — but lo and behold, there they were on a daybed right along the front, facing the beach, dancing away, completely oblivious to us walking by. So we sneaked up while they weren’t looking and started dancing underneath (well, I did — not Shane, ha!).
They soon noticed us, so we chatted for a minute, the guy with them said, “Join us!” We said no at first — we were a right sweaty mess from our walk, not exactly beach-club ready — but they begged, if only for a drink. In the end, we folded — let’s live in the moment! Who cares how we look? No one knows us (well, apart from our friends, of course).
So in we went! We didn’t overstay our welcome — had a couple of drinks, got my face painted (like you do), enjoyed the pool, the vibe, and the entertainment from the disco-ball dancers. It was brilliant — you really do have the best times when things aren’t planned! Plus, it gave us a chance to say goodbye to our friends, who were leaving in the morning. We wouldn’t have let them go without a goodbye anyway, but this way they could enjoy the rest of their day without worrying about meeting up with us oldies — ha!
We’d had a great week — even being ill at the start didn’t dampen our spirits — and now that we were feeling much better, we were able to plan our next move, which was to book flights to the island of Flores. The cheapest flights were a couple of days away, so it made sense to stay around here for a few nights. But rather than stay put, we decided to move back towards the airport to Kuta.
Kuta was one of the first places in Bali to see substantial tourist development. It became popular with visiting surfers in the early days of Bali tourism and later with backpackers, playing a key role in the island’s resort history.
This whole stretch — Kuta, Legian, and Seminyak — is really popular with Australians. I mean, Bali in general is, but especially this area. For them, Bali is like Spain is to us: close and cheap. (Well… Spain’s not all that cheap anymore!)
We’d avoided Kuta up until now as we thought it might be too brash and busy, but with two days to spare, why not!
Twenty minutes in a taxi took us to our next hotel, which was really close to the beach but tucked just off the main road. It was very Balinese, with lovely gardens and a nice pool. All for a tenner a night — you wouldn’t believe how cheap accommodation can be, and it was actually really nice: a lovely room with a big balcony. Bargain!
We familiarised ourselves with the immediate area and, from what we could see, Kuta didn’t seem too bad — especially around here! Yes, it was busy, with lots of souvenir shops, tattoo parlours, and spas, but there were also some really tasteful restaurants. There was even a Jamie Oliver restaurant, which we made sure to check out. And down at the beachfront, there were still plenty of beach shacks with seating and beanbags set out on the sand.
So a little mooch around town and then a swim back at the hotel seemed like a good plan for the day.
On our last day, we headed towards the beach, as the good thing about Kuta is that you can still walk the beach path — it stretches all the way down to the airport. It gets quieter the further you go, mainly passing by nice resorts, and you also pass the big Discovery Mall, which has access from the beach path.
By the mall area, there was sea-defence work happening, with machinery and barriers set up along parts of the shoreline. Apparently Kuta Beach has been suffering coastal erosion for years — the shoreline has steadily shrunk, and waves now reach much closer to built-up areas. In response, the authorities have launched a project to construct several breakwaters (rock and stone barriers offshore) and to replenish sand on the beach so that it regains its width and remains usable for tourism.
We’ve seen coastal erosion in so many places on our travels, so it’s good to see a project like this in place. I suppose here in Bali, they simply can’t afford to lose the beach — it’s a major tourism asset.
The sea as you near the airport is a lot different than the surfing area, here it’s still and was really blue, I was quite surprised at the difference.
We had a lovely walk along the beach path and were entertained by squirrels leaping around in the trees beside us. On the way back, we booked ourselves a table at Jamie Oliver’s for dinner — why not!
It turned out to be a wise choice, as dinner was really good. We’ve been travelling in and out of Indonesia for a few months now, and I’m sorry to say it, but we’re a bit bored of Indonesian food. It happens — spend long enough anywhere and you inevitably crave something different. The good thing about Bali is that it offers so many international and Western options, and tonight that variety was very welcome!
So we enjoyed our little stay in Kuta. We even found some interesting back streets away from the main tourist areas, with small homestays, local homes, and shrines — a world away, yet only a few streets apart.
We’d definitely return, especially for a short stay. It’s convenient for the airport, and you can make it as busy or as chilled as you like.
Next: Flores, the gateway to Komodo National Park, which is the main reason we want to visit. It’s been on our radar for over a year, but we ran out of time last trip. We’ll be flying into Labuan Bajo, the little port town on the western tip of Flores and the main jumping-off point for exploring the national park.
Flores
Labuan Bajo
The flight from Bali was a short 53 minutes — basically up then down, my type of flight! As we came in to land, you could see the spectacular landscape with many surrounding islands of the national park.
We flew into Komodo airport in the port town of Labuan Bajo which is the main tourist centre on Flores as it’s described as the gateway to Komodo National Park (and thus to the famous Komodo dragon), making it a key base for boat trips, diving and island-hopping.
The airport is only 10 minutes from the town centre, so after collecting our luggage we went in search of a taxi. Unfortunately, they don’t operate Grab here, but there were many kiosks offering taxi services into town. The price was the same at each, so we agreed one and were soon on our way to the hotel.
First impressions were good during the short drive to the hotel — the roads were well-maintained, with nice pavements and lots of planting. You come down from the hill into the town, so we got to watch the amazing views unfold as the road twisted around. It really was stunning — you could see the lighthouse and port below. Then, as we neared the main street, it all felt very tasteful and colourful. Shane said it reminded him of a Caribbean town, and I agreed!
We were staying in a small homestay which had great reviews and was in a central location. When researching, I found that accommodation in Labuan Bajo was either very basic or quite luxurious — there didn’t seem to be much in between.
The taxi dropped us at the roadside and we had a short walk (uphill — phew!) to the homestay. We were warmly welcomed and shown to our room, and we were more than pleased. It exceeded our expectations: a clean, comfortable space and, thanks to the uphill walk, amazing views of the lighthouse and nearby islands. Perfect — we couldn’t ask for more!
So like we always do, we dumped our bags, got a little organised, and set about exploring the area. We needed milk as well — of course we did; life without tea isn’t life at all — ha!
On the main street there were lots of quirky restaurants, handicraft stores, and dive shops specialising in full-day and liveaboard trips, as the area is very well known for its amazing diving.
They’ve developed this area well — even the lampposts are designed like tree trunks, with lush planting continuing along the street.
We wandered down towards the waterfront and the lighthouse and discovered a promenade. It wasn’t quite as polished as the main street — a little tired in places and in need of some TLC — but still more than we’d expected. We followed it around the bay, spotting a boardwalk curving along the coast towards what looked like a viewpoint.
We carried on along the boardwalk, which was such a nice surprise, offering views of the harbour and the islands scattered offshore.
It ended at a pavilion where you can see a beach and luxury resorts around the headland. The pavilion offered welcoming shade, as it was so hot. We could have sat there for ages, just watching the boats coming and going and the local children playing in the water.
We forced ourselves back up and returned along the boardwalk to the multi-level viewing platform overlooking the bay and port. It was so hot we could easily have skipped it, but we didn’t want to miss out on the view, so we pushed ourselves. Shane refused to go to the top level — he’s a scaredy-cat — so I climbed the last set of steps, snapped a quick photo, and hurried back down.
Strolling back to the hotel, we clocked a barber’s — hallelujah, thank the Lord, because Shane’s barnet had reached that critical stage of Terry-Wogan-meets-thatched-roof — ha!
Two quid for a haircut? Two quid?! At that price I was tempted to get one too. Bargain!
The barber absolutely took his time and did a great job. Suddenly Shane’s gone from “backpacker who’s lived out of a bag for six months” to “just-stepped-off-a-cruise-ship and probably owns a yacht.” We’ll be going out tonight to celebrate the fresh fade — ha!
By night, Labuan Bajo has just enough going on. It’s definitely a more chilled vibe, but there’s a good selection of restaurants, and you can find a handful of bars, some with live music. We had a hairstyle to parade, so we’d better hit the town!
We found a great bar further up the hill — a killer walk up, but totally worth it once you reach the top. The perfect sunset spot, although tonight wasn’t the best sunset due to a bit of cloud.
We took a walk afterwards just to suss out the night vibes. Further up the hill was a place we’d read was a go-to — it wasn’t that late yet, so it probably wouldn’t get going until later, as it advertised live music each night from 9pm. No harm in taking a peek, though. On the way, we passed a random goat strolling down the street — I had to double-take; I thought it was a dog at first — ha!
The place on the hill was a great venue, a big space with views over the sea. The band were just warming up, but there were only a couple of people in. We’d had a long day, so to be honest, we were glad to head back — bed was calling, and Shane had paraded his new hair enough for one night! On the way back down the hill, we passed a large groups heading there, so it must be popular. We can always return another time — or not!
The following day we decided to explore further on foot. Checking the map, we spotted a beach not too far away that looked worth the walk. In town itself there isn’t a beach, but you can see a few dotted around — mostly a scooter or taxi ride away. This one didn’t seem too far, and we don’t mind walking.
It was really hot though! Phew — so humid. And as lovely as the walk was following the coast, it had its fair share of hills — up and down — but we soldiered on! P.S. we even saw the goat again — so random!
Along this stretch, it’s where the locals live — especially fishermen — but then you suddenly get this huge contrast with some seriously prestigious, totally out-of-this-world hotels. We also noticed a lot of development going on.
We passed a signpost saying “Beach.” This wasn’t the beach we were heading to, but we decided to take a little detour — we could be missing something special.
It was a partly trodden pathway that did indeed lead us to a deserted beach. It wasn’t spectacular — a bit unloved, with bits of washed-up plastic — but at the far end was one of the prestigious hotels. This one looked like something you’d see in the Maldives, with a series of bungalows built along a platform over the sea.
We followed the beach past what appeared to be a local boatyard; a few boats were moored up, and a couple were in the process of being built. At the bottom, we could see a wall and no access to the resort — well, of course there wouldn’t be. Anyway, we managed to cut through to the road without having to go all the way back on ourselves.
Labuan Bajo is definitely on the up — currently still a little under the radar but growing fast — and it has that unmistakable energy of a place on the rise. You get the sense it’s only a matter of time before it becomes the next major travel hotspot.
So in a way, it’s probably nice that we get to see it in its half-raw state — a place in transition.
We rejoined the road and stopped a couple of times along the way to hydrate, and each time the views were spectacular. It’s all the small islands dotted around that give the place so much beauty — add to that the boats bobbing about, the turquoise sea, and the tranquillity, and it really was peaceful!
Just before we reached the road that drops down to the beach, we passed an area called Sylvia Hill, which had a signpost for a viewpoint. I had to walk up to the edge, as scaredy-cat Shane’s legs wouldn’t lead him there. It wasn’t too scary, but there was no telling him. From the viewpoint you get sweeping views of the sea, islands, boats, and coastline — it really is gorgeous here.
We then continue on the road down to the beach- and I mean down, the steep road led on for quite a while in which time you are thinking about later when you have to walk back up- we always seem to be gluten for punishment -ha !
The beach we were visiting was called Waecicu Beach — only a small stretch of sand, but in a lovely setting. Not the best beach we’ve ever visited, but very natural, and there was an inviting -little beach café where you could grab refreshments — and wow, we were ready to rehydrate once more. All those hills had taken their toll, and we couldn’t wait to flop into the sea — which we did! A well-earned dip, I’d say.
It also wasn’t too busy. There were a few groups of young backpackers who’d reached the beach by scooter — of course they had! — and a few local families enjoying a picnic while the kids played in the water. It was nice!
So we enjoyed an hour or so there, then headed back — I’m not gonna lie, we weren’t looking forward to that hill at the beginning. We just took our time and did it in stages, each time making it to the next bit of shade up the hill to take a minute before continuing. We made it — woo! — and soon found our stride. For some reason it always seems quicker going back — I don’t know why. But we were very glad when the town came back into view — almost home!
We were definitely looking forward to dinner later. I’d spotted a lovely Italian restaurant just a short walk from the hotel, and we hoped they’d have a table—which they did, just!—and it certainly didn’t disappoint.
We wanted an early night, as the following morning we were up early for our Komodo National Park tour, which was the main reason we were visiting Flores.
We were so looking forward to the day. We were picked up from the hotel just before 7am and taken to the port, where we boarded the speedboat.
Our first stop was Padar Island, where we hiked to the famous viewpoint. The climb was steep in parts, and about three-quarters of the way up Shane got the scaredy-cat legs and froze on the spot. He found what little shade there was, and I continued to the top. Wowser! The view from the very top was spectacular — sweeping, panoramic views of three crescent-shaped bays. It was so hot though, and it had only just turned 8am. Apparently they only let people climb until 10am, then not again until late afternoon, as it gets too hot!
Being there early meant it wasn’t too busy on the way up. On our way back down, however, there were far more people heading up — our tour was clearly an hour ahead, which turned out to be a real bonus.
Back at the beach, we waited in the shade before boarding the boat again. While we waited, we spotted a deer wandering along the sand before heading to the shoreline to cool its hooves — how sweet! It’s not every day you see a deer on the beach!
Next stop was Pink Beach. We visited a pink beach last year in Lombok which was stunning — hopefully this one would be the same. Well, I think I’d say this one was even better. It was absolutely beautiful. The pink sand is truly gorgeous, especially against the bluest, clearest sea. It’s created by the red coral found in the reef here. Places like this on earth are exceptional, and getting the chance to visit them is really quite humbling — we feel so lucky and will be eternally grateful that we’ve been able to see such special places.
Here, we could relax on the beach and swim in the sea — yes please! We could not wait to get into that water — off the scale!
Another surprise was seeing deer once more. Deer on a pink beach — wow, it doesn’t get much better than this.
Next, we headed to Komodo Island itself to see the legendary Komodo dragons. Guided by rangers, we walked through the dry forest and spotted these ancient creatures lazing in the shade. The ones we saw were around six feet long, which meant they were likely females. The males can grow much bigger — some very large ones can reach up to around 10–11 feet!
I’m not gonna lie, they made me very nervous. One bite from these guys and you’re finished. They have venomous saliva and, being carnivores, they eat mammals like water buffalo, wild pigs, goats, and deer — oh, and they canattack humans, but it’s rare. With that in mind, I made sure to sandwich myself between other tourists — no way was I gonna be dinner!
Young Komodo dragons mostly eat insects, small reptiles, and small mammals until they’re big enough to hunt larger prey. We even saw a baby one, and I still kept my distance.
We had lunch on Komodo (thankfully we weren’t lunch!) and then headed back to the boat, where the afternoon would be spent snorkelling at a couple of different sites.
The first stop was Taka Makassar, a tiny sandbar that appears like magic in the middle of the sea. The water here was so clear and blue — truly out of this world. From here, you can snorkel around the surrounding reef or laze on the sand. We chose to snorkel — it’s what we love! The coral was in great condition and the marine life was fantastic: lots of colourful fish and even baby sharks, which are harmless — thankfully.
I was even chasing them, trying to take photos while singing the Baby Shark song — which then stuck in my head for the rest of the day — ha!
The next stop wasn’t far — Manta Point. We were pretty excited about this one; after seeing manta rays at Nusa Penida, it would be amazing if we got to see them again. It’s deep water where we entered the ocean, so we had to wear life jackets. I was more than happy with that — it meant I could relax a little more.
We followed one of the crew and swam for quite some time. It was a little eerie looking down into the depths. We saw a couple of large fish but no manta, and I was starting to think we might not get lucky this time. Then, all of a sudden, they came into view. Our guide clearly knew where to take us — and there wasn’t just one, or two, or even three… there were five, maybe even six! And OMG, they were huge. I mean impressively huge — maybe a wingspan of around 12 feet — and darker than the ones at Penida, although I believe they are all reef mantas.
Despite their size, they aren’t scary at all — they’re gentle giants of the sea, gliding gracefully. This group was circling around the reef and it was a sight to behold. From the surface we watched them, while a group of divers sat on the seabed below, taking it all in from there. I’d say we both had front-row seats. It really was a wow moment — probably the highlight of the day. We just couldn’t believe what we’d witnessed.
Everyone was buzzing when we got back on the boat. If the trip had ended then, we would’ve been perfectly happy — but we still had one more stop: Turtle Point. I turned to Shane and said, “If we see a turtle now, that will be the icing on the cake.”
So we entered the ocean one last time. I was constantly scanning the water for turtles when suddenly one of the crew shouted, “Manta!” Once again, we were surrounded by a large group of them. Honestly, we could have watched these guys all day. It felt like a double-whammy — you never know if it’s the last time you’ll ever have an opportunity like this.
We just floated on the surface, watching from above as what looked like a manta dance unfolding beneath us. Such graceful creatures — mind-blowing, and absolutely off the scale.
We didn’t get to see turtles, but we definitely couldn’t complain — this trip was up there with the very best. The things we saw today were truly incredible: a mix of stunning landscapes, the Komodo dragons (which we thought the trip was all about), but in the end the true stars of the day were the manta rays. We hadn’t even realised they were something we’d get to see on this trip — just wow, wow, wow!
It was also our last night, and still buzzing from the day, we arranged to meet up for a drink later with an Aussie guy and an Indian guy we’d met on the trip—both fellow solo travellers—so it would be nice to spend some time with them before we all went our separate ways.
We had a lovely night. It wasn’t a late one; it had been such a full-on day, but it was a fitting end to our time in Flores.
We absolutely loved our time around Labuan Bajo and the national park; we’d seen what we came for. Flores has much more to offer, but it’s more off the beaten track—roads can be rough, public transport is limited, and travel between towns can take longer than expected. As we didn’t have much time left, we couldn’t really venture further.
Tomorrow, we return to Bali. We have to go back because we have a flight booked to Kuala Lumpur from there in a few days. When we originally applied for our visa, you have to show your onward travel. We don’t really like planning in advance, but under circumstances like these we had no choice, so we’d chosen Kuala Lumpur—it’s probably the cheapest place to reach from Bali, and it’s also a great gateway for when we move on.
For now, we’ll enjoy our remaining time back in Bali. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it!
Bali
Legian
Arriving back in Bali after our short trip to Flores felt familiar, as if we’d never been away. With only a short time before we’d be leaving Bali, we decided not to stray too far and based ourselves in Legian — just a continuation of Kuta and the only area along this stretch of coastline we hadn’t stayed in yet. We suspected it wouldn’t feel dramatically different, given how the atmosphere flows seamlessly from Kuta near the airport, through Legian, into Seminyak, and finally up to Canggu — each neighbourhood blending into the next, just with slightly different vibes.
Our hotel was right in the heart of things, yet tucked down a back street where we hoped it would be quiet. It was another cheap and cheerful place which, in Bali, so often ends up exceeding your expectations — and this one was no different. The building had traditional Balinese architecture, intricately decorated, and with a lovely pool and gardens it was perfect — more than we needed.
By the time we’d settled in, there wasn’t much daylight left, but at least it gave us time to chill out before heading back out for dinner. When we checked the map, we realised we were only a 15–20 minute walk from the restaurant we used to visit with our friends when staying in Seminyak. We decided to wander around the immediate area first, then head there, as they do the best potato scallops — proper chippy ones like back home.
It’s funny, but when you’ve been on the road a while, it’s the little things that remind you of home that you really crave, and this plate of scallops with vinegar hit the spot! Bali sunsets, chippy scallops — come on, what’s not to love? Ha!
The area around the hotel was buzzing — lots of restaurants, some really tasteful ones with beautiful Balinese décor, and then a whole lot of Aussie sports bars. They’re everywhere here, two a penny. The Aussies clearly love them: wall-to-wall TVs showing sport non-stop. It wasn’t our vibe; we prefer the beach — and luckily, we had that too.
The beach scene here is all about the sunset. By around 9pm it really quietens down. We were happy strolling along the beach path in the direction of those scallops. The funny thing is, when we got back it wasn’t even particularly late — around 10:30 — and the sports bars were already really quiet. You’d think they’d be packed, but nope. We definitely weren’t going to be kept awake by noise. Not sure where everyone disappears to — maybe they start earlier and are tucked up in bed by then! Who knows?
We’d walked this whole stretch of coastline over several visits, so we were keen to find something different to do — ideally somewhere just a short drive away. The following day, we decided on Nusa Dua, as it wasn’t too far in a taxi — around 45 minutes.
We didn’t know too much about Nusa Dua at first; I just knew it was an area with prestigious hotels. I read a little bit and saw that it also had a great beach path — supposedly one of the best in Bali — perfect! That was all we needed. We do love a stroll along a beach path.
So we booked a taxi and got on our way. As the taxi approached, we passed large Balinese-style gates with ‘Nusa Dua’ written in big letters, signalling that we’d arrived. What we didn’t expect was that it would be a gated community. Our driver had to stop at security, where they checked around the car before giving us the all-clear to continue.
Once through, we were quite taken aback by the manicured gardens — beautifully landscaped and immaculately maintained. It was only then that I had a quick read up about the place.
I discovered that Nusa Dua was once a quiet villages, filled with coconut groves, and sea-weed farms. Then in the early 1970s, the Indonesian government, with support from institutions such as the World Bank, began planning a dedicated luxury tourism zone. The aim was to attract international travellers while protecting the rest of Bali from uncontrolled development.
By the early 1980s, the first major hotel had opened. From that point, development gathered pace, and the area evolved into the resort it is today. With high-end hotels and regular international events, the entrance checkpoints help keep the area peaceful and controlled.
We had no idea it was like this. I knew it was an upscale resort area, but this was another level. Once inside, it’s calm, manicured, and very secure — almost like a resort bubble compared to the more lively, local feel elsewhere in Bali.
Very beautiful though — just seeing the gardens made us so glad we came.
The driver dropped us by the Grand Hyatt, where we could join the beach path that runs through the grounds of this prestigious hotel. We wandered down to the beach — wide, soft golden sand and beautifully clear water. Unlike some of the livelier beaches elsewhere in Bali, Nusa Dua has a calm, almost serene atmosphere. The water is much calmer too, making it ideal for swimming, paddling, or just floating around without battling big surf. There is surfing here but beyond the reef.
The name Nusa Dua means “two islands” referring to the two small raised headlands or islands off the coast of the peninsula.
The first island, called Peninsula Island, was where we headed first, as there’s a Water Blow there that we thought might be worth a visit. The Water Blow is a natural spot where big waves crash against the rocks and shoot water high into the air, almost like a natural fountain. There’s a small admission fee to enter the site, where a viewing platform lets you watch safely. Unfortunately, the lady at the ticket counter advised us it was low tide with no waves, so we decided to give it a miss.
We still walked around the small island and up to the big statue of Krishna and Arjuna, then over to the large open helipad, which is painted as a floor mural and looks out over the ocean. There were a few surfers out at this point, but the water near shore was quite calm. The surf breaks on the reef here can be pretty powerful — more suited to experienced surfers — so even though the shoreline feels peaceful, there can be some serious surf action happening further out.
We walked back towards the beach and joined the path running along the next bay, which led to the second little island (Nusa Dharma Island). A short walkway takes you across, and the island is shaded by trees, with benches to stop and sit and a small temple tucked quietly among the greenery.
It was all lovely, but my favourite thing was simply walking the beach path past all the luxury resorts, each with their own inviting beachside restaurants. This would be an amazing place to holiday — especially if you wanted pure relaxation with a slice of luxury. On our backpacker budget, we wouldn’t stand a chance here! We’d be weighing up one week in Nusa Dua versus one month exploring the rest of Bali… and, well, the winner’s obvious. Although I wouldn’t say no to both!
We had a lovely day. We stopped for a swim — or more of a wallow, really — as the water was so calm and relaxing. We eventually forced ourselves out of the water to dry off before heading back towards the gardens near the entrance to the resort. From there, we took a taxi back — returning to the chaos of Legian, which felt a million miles away from the calm of Nusa Dua.
We had wanted to get some work done on the blog over these last few days in Bali, but unfortunately the hotel’s Wi-Fi was down and they were still waiting for an engineer to sort it out. It was frustrating at times, but we can’t expect perfect Wi-Fi everywhere we go. The world is so connected these days — sometimes you get a great signal in places you’d never expect, and other times you run into issues. It’s just part and parcel of travelling, and something we have to accept.
We’d be able to catch up at our next stop, I’m sure, and in the meantime we could just enjoy our time and relax — not really difficult!
On our last day, we decided we’d walk all the way down to Canggu. We knew we probably wouldn’t walk back — it’s a fair trek — but we really enjoy the beach walk, even if we’ve done it a fair few times now.
We like having an end goal, so naturally I set it as The Barn, (course I did) — a gastropub I remembered from last year that did the best pizza, and I was keen to have it again. I figured the long walk would raise a good appetite if we skipped breakfast, and by the time we got there we’d be more than ready for it. So that was the plan.
We enjoyed the walk as always. It’s hard not to, especially when you think that back home it’s probably wet and gloomy at this time of year. Walking along a glorious stretch of beach — well, there are worse things in life!
We were starving by the time we arrived at The Barn. Thankfully it was open, even though it was quiet mid-afternoon. Another table came in shortly after us, so at least we weren’t the only ones in there — not that it would have bothered me! I was here for the pizza, and as long as it was as delicious as I remembered, I’d have happily eaten on my own — ha!
I wasn’t disappointed. The pizza was absolutely delicious — well worth the walk. Stuffed and extremely satisfied, all I can say is I’m glad we didn’t have to walk back. We were definitely getting a taxi this time. Plus, the afternoon sun was intense, so it was nice to stay out of it.
We booked a taxi, which came pretty sharpish. The only issue with getting a taxi is the time it takes to get from Canggu to Legian — it was showing an hour, which is hard to believe when it’s really not that far. The road infrastructure in Bali, especially along this coast, is terrible. You have to go all around the houses (as we’d say), and with the sheer number of cars and scooters, it doesn’t take long before everything backs up with traffic jams.
Shane had a snooze — I didn’t blame him. If we’d had the energy, we might have walked back. It’d probably take twice as long, but at least you’re moving! Anyway, enough moaning — at least we were in an air-conditioned car!
On our last night we headed out just as the heavens opened. We’ve hardly seen any rain in months, but this downpour certainly made up for it. It suddenly became really heavy, so we dived into a bar for shelter (of course we did)! It turned out to be an Aussie sports bar — not our first choice, but better that than getting soaked.
It lashed down for over an hour and the road completely flooded, so we just sat it out, amused watching people wander by drenched to the bone. Two guys came into the bar, took off their T-shirts, wrung them out — honestly, there was a lot of water — and then put them straight back on. Bless them, there’s nothing worse than being soaked through, but I’m sure they didn’t care after a few “tinnies” (assuming they were Aussie, ha!).
It finally stopped and it’s funny how quick the roads dried up (apart from the lane down to our hotel) which we could see was indeed still flooded, that would be fun when we head home later- not!
We had a walk around to see if we could find somewhere appealing to finish the night. We didn’t fancy another sports bar, and the beach was definitely off the cards after that downpour.
Then I remembered a little place we’d spotted a few days earlier, so we headed there. It was perfect — a small bar with loads of character, filled with expats who probably like to keep it a bit of a hidden gem. Still, we were welcomed right in and ended up having a great time.
We were served frozen beer — now that was a first! Flip the cap and it comes out like a slush. Surprisingly refreshing — if you’ve never tried it, give it a go. The music was brilliant, right up our street, and it wasn’t long before we were all singing along to some killer tracks.
It turned into a brilliant night. In some ways, it’s good we only discovered it at the end — if we’d found it earlier, I imagine there could’ve been a few late ones!
It was late when we left, but thankfully the road back to our hotel had already dried up — like it had never rained at all.
So that brought our time in Bali and Indonesia to a fitting end. We’ve really enjoyed our stay and feel like we’ve now seen so much of what the islands have to offer. Will it be the last time we ever visit? I’m not sure. If we were to return, there are still a few places we haven’t managed to get to, so we’ll never say never. But if we don’t come back, we’re okay with that too — we’ve spent a great deal of time here, especially here in Bali and have explored it well.
Next stop: Kuala Lumpur — a city we’ve visited before and one we’re happy to return to. It’s a great place, modern yet full of culture, so we don’t mind spending more time here. Plus, we’ll be staying in an apartment, which means we can enjoy some home comforts. At this stage of our travels, that’s very welcome — a bit of cooking, getting the washing done… yes, all the little everyday tasks people don’t normally enjoy back home. Funny how travel flips things around!
If you’d like to keep following our journey, head over to Malaysia Part 2. That’s where the story continues — starting right after Kuching.
