Lake Maninjau
"The first glimpse of the perfectly formed volcanic lake sucks your breath away as your dilapidated bus lurches over the caldera lip and hurtles towards the first of the 44 (yep, they're numbered) hairpin bends down to the lakeshore."
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| View of Lake Maninjau |
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| One of the 44 hairpin turns |
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| And they are actually marked! |
Although our van wasn't dilapidated, the turns were no less treacherous. Due to the holiday season the roads were packed, especially to and from the lake, a popular destination for vacationing Indonesians. From the top of the caldera the lake view was stunning. Lake Maninjau looked (and was) quite close, but it took our van a good half hour to navigate the 44 turns to the bottom. Motorcycles were constantly whizzing by and cars barely squeezing by going the opposite direction.
The traffic didn't let up once we reached the lakeshore. It actually got worse! The tiny lakeside town, conveniently named Maninjau as well, was packed with visitors. The road stretching around the lake was one constant traffic jam.
The guesthouses were plentiful, but I was worried about finding a room amidst the vacationing horde. Our van driver dropped me off at one of the locally-run guesthouses along the lake. Fortunately they had a room available, but at 15 dollars, the price was steep. 15 dollars may not sound like much, but if you've been reading my previous blogs about Indonesia you'll recall that I have paid a third of that price for lodging. Plus all I got was a small room which wasn't even closed off (instead of walls one side just had a screen).
Being a stubborn budget travel I set off to look for a better deal. After nearly an hour of trekking back and forth along the main road I found a home stay for only 10 bucks. Was it worth the hour-long search to save five dollars? Most would probably say no. But I was satisfied knowing that I had shopped around and knew I wasn't getting screwed over.
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| As a budget traveler you gotta stretch every dollar! |
By the time I finally got my lodging situated I was starving. I ate dinner at a family run restaurant next door, and then headed to the center of town to inquire about motorbike rentals. Several places were closed or had no free bikes on account of the holiday. Locals in town told me I would have better luck if I came back early the next day, so I crossed my fingers that I would find something tomorrow.
Maninjau is nearly 500 meters above sea level, less than Berastagi or Toba, but still enough for cool nights. Again the showers were the tub of water and bucket variety, with no warm water. Why is it that I had warm water at lower elevations when the nights were still hot, but then when I actually needed it had to shower with only cold water? I guess there is a reoccurring theme here - you get what you pay for!
Early the next day I went into town looking for a motorbike. The few shops I passed with rental signs were closed, so I asked a few moto taxi drivers at the main intersection. Initially they didn't have an extra bike. But it wasn't long until one of them contacted a buddy on his phone and found one I could rent for the day. If someone is willing to rent one they will do everything they can to come up with a bike - why pass up the money!
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| These guys should be able to set you up with a bike. |
For most of the day I was riding on the bike. I'm glad I got one because there wasn't much else to do. First I took the perimeter road around the lake, but it didn't take very long (the maximum length is 16 km and width of 7 km). I considered trying to reach the coast, but after 15 minutes on the congested, polluted main road I turned around.
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| It was better to stay near the lake and off the main roads! |
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| Rice paddies with Maninjau in the background |
Instead I did some off-roading. Well there was still technically a road, but it's hard to call a narrow dirt-rock-broken pavement surface a road. It was nice having enough time to explore the small back roads and small villages. At one point I took a road up the crater hill; as it went up the road became overgrown with grass and moss, and there were no more houses or people. Finally the road ended at what looked to be a small observatory or outpost. It was marked as an Indonesian military building, so I quickly turned back around! The path was so steep that I had to walk my bike back down - I was reminded of the central highlands in Vietnam when I put on the brakes and the bike slid out from under me. Luckily this time I made it down unscratched!
During the drive along the back roads I met an Indonesian who invited me into his home. He offered me a snack and we chatted and exchanged emails. He is a teacher at a nearby school and was extremely excited to meet me. Later in the drive I stopped at a family run store, and a bunch of kids came out to greet me. I assumed they were friends, but then the eldest sister informed me the group of 10, probably all between ages 4 and 17, were siblings! Now I can see how there are 240 million people in Indonesia!
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| Talk about a big family! The opposite of Korea, where having even three kids is rare |
By the time I got back to town and returned my bike it was already dark. I had a quiet evening and woke up early. The bus / van schedule back to Bukittinggi was erratic - when one filled up it left - so I wanted to make sure and give myself plenty of time. Before leaving Bukittinggi I purchased another bus ticket bound for Bengkulu, a town further south. So I had to get back to Bukittinggi with enough time to catch the bus by 1 pm.
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