Tuesday 30 November 2010

Reflections...

It’s been nearly six months since I started out on this journey and although it only seems like two minutes since I was packing up my London life and coming out here to make a new start, I guess I’ve discovered a lot but in some ways I’ve only just scratched the surface. Some things are easy, some things are hard and there is nothing more satisfying than writing a list about what is floating my boat and what is not.

Floating the boat

Travel – Singapore is one massive bus stop to the world, either by air or by boat. Nearly everything coming from West to East or vice versa comes in close proximity if not actually even stopping here. Taking a cursory look out of the window down to the beach (ok – I exaggerate about the quality of my view) it’s one long cavalcade of container ships, freight and tankers ploughing up and down the Straights on to destinations further and more unpronounceable than I know. The same goes for me. It’s possible to be in a different country every weekend for a year in less than 4 hours on a plane for a few hundred dollars and not even hit the same place twice. I’m whittling them down a bit but even I know it’ll be a list of places that would take a lifetime to see and I’ll be lucky if I even do half of them.

Food – Trying desperately not to put on the famous Singapore Stone is a tricky job. One of the two national sports here is eating and it’s possible to eat out on hardly any money at all and satisfy one’s palate on everything and anything from any corner of the globe and some odder places in between.
As long as you like it with chilli sauce you’re sorted. Screwed if you don’t. Even McDonald's have a special chilli sauce pot that I’ve only ever seen served here.

Cheap beer – Singapore is actually an expensive city to go drinking in if you don’t watch what you are doing. It’s quite easy to be racking up S$16 beers if you don’t pay attention, but in the same sentence, if you shop around when plying the local barmen for his trade, you can easily be knocking back S$5 beers a few feet in the opposite direction. Happy hours are the rule here and hawker stalls peddle the amber nectar at prices that can hardly be beat as long as you don’t mind the beer of choice here, Tiger.

The beautiful people – Ok, Asian women are very hot I’ll make no bones about it. Even still, Singapore does seem to attract a rather above average set of people, both male and female I note. I’m not counting myself in any of this statement but the journey to work is all the more easy on the eye than anywhere else in the world I’ve been lucky to work. Maybe it’s something in the water.

Exploring – Maybe it’s living in a new city after living in the old one for so long, but the weekends and holidays seem all the more exciting when there are new places to explore, new people to meet and new experiences to try out.
Getting up early on the weekend is all the more easy knowing that there is a whole new exotic world outside the door waiting for you.

Cycling to work by the beach – I’ve been a keen cyclist for quite a few years now and NOTHING beats cycling to work along the beach with the morning sun shining on the sand and the waves coming rippling in. Fair enough, I’m painting a picture of absolute paradise but whilst the sand is imported from Indonesia and the waves are laced with marine diesel, it’s still quite exhilarating to be able to wrap the start and end of the work day with a pootle down the promenade.
Changi may not be the most rip roaring of places to have an office on the island, but for the days that I am there it’s actually a pleasure to go to work that way.

Bonkers food names – Kang Kong, Kai Lan – the list goes on of foods that look familiar but of which I’ve no idea of what they actually are. It’s an education just trying to do the local shopping and lots of fun deciphering that some exotic word that you can’t pronounce just means garden peas.
Buying fish from the wet market is even more of a fun activity. All manner of fish types are on offer of varieties that I’ve never been able to buy before. I think I might sign up for a local cooking course to try and not only understand what I’m actually buying, but also to find out what on earth I'm to do with it as well.


Not floating the boat.

The lack of seasons – Singapore has two seasons. A hot one and and a really hot one. You never even know which one it’s going to be on any given day as well I’ve found. I’m not complaining at all and more than anything I’m not going to be a moaning Brit who bangs on about the weather all the time. What I do miss is the seasons and especially the changing of seasons. No more crisp crunchy frost on the way to work. No more kicking brown leaves down the pavement. No more seeing a cool mist on the Surrey downs whilst walking the dog before breakfast. Ok, I never lived in Surrey, and I don’t even have a dog, but it’s the thought that counts.
It's now Christmas here and seeing Orchard Road lit up in all it's glory, which is quite impressive actually is rather nice but it's not the same without roasted chestnuts, a cold crisp breeze and the excuse to warm yourself up with lashings of warm mulled wine as you traipse along.

Ants in my condo – I have very mild OCD. I like things to be in order. Ants do not have OCD. Ants like chaos, apart from that thing they do when they go in a nice neat line (which is quite nice to watch).

I don’t like ants. I have lots of ants in my condo. Therefore, it’s very annoying.

I don’t know if it’s just me but the general fumigation exercises I see every few weeks around the place does make me think that it’s more of a common thing than my taste in home furnishings being particularly desirable to the local ant population and making them want to move in with me.

Building noise - Singapore in places is one massive building site. Everywhere you look there are condos, malls, MRT stations and office buildings being built. Either nothing has been built in the last ten years and someone has been given the mandate of “Hey – We need to build a load of shit!” or there is a boom going on that I don’t know about. It’s a rush job though as building starts from 8am in the morning till 8pm in the evening and even over the weekends now outside my condo on the East Coast. The sound of the jack hammer and pile driving was not the dulcet tones I’d set myself to hearing on a Sunday morning over my breakfast noodles.

Having to change the bed sheets every week – Just to set this straight before the giggling at the back starts – this is nothing to do with my prowess but more that I sleep without the AC on when I can which can make it bloody hot and sweaty at night. This means that the sheets only last a week before they’re whisked off to be changed for another set. My two cats will think it’s an amusement park for them alone as they go mental whenever I change the sheets and they are around. Obviously the answer is just to sleep with the AC on, but maybe I’m just getting a bit green in my old age, or maybe I’m just a bit tight when it comes to paying bills.

Never being able to get a cab after 10pm on a Sunday, anywhere – For some reason all the cabs in Singapore enter the twilight zone at 10pm on Sunday. Now, there is obviously something going on at this time which likens the chance of hailing a cab to the same odds as the winning the lottery, twice. Where do they all go? Where tell me? If it starts to rain at this time, give up as all the taxis are made out of something that makes them dissolve in rain water and you’ve no chance at all of seeing one.

Being able to share it with someone – this is pretty self explanatory but half the fun of doing the kind of stuff I’m getting up to is precisely what it says. Half the fun. I’m a double the fun twice the laugh kind of person so it’d be all the more nicer to have a partner in crime to do some of the things I’m doing with. Besides it’d make the hotel bills half the price.

Singapore organisation – sometimes it’s good when things don’t work. Don’t pay your Electricity bill on time – they cut you off exactly at 9am the day after. Want to park your car overnight in the visitors spot and don’t have the green sticker but have the red one, forget it. Rules are rules I agree, but there is absolutely no chance of flexibility, bending, letting go or even trying to argue about anything as it simply won’t wash. “Cannot” is the answer if you try, which is a pretty infuriating word I can tell you. I’ll get on to the joys of Singlish another time when I’ve managed to get to 10 or more words that I can make out.

It’s not much of a list and the negatives are hardly very important. All in all, it’s hard not to love Singapore and coming here has been a real highlight of my life so far. Let's hope they let me stay a bit longer!
If the worst I can complain about is the amount of ants I have wandering around the place, whilst shirking away from the wider topical points such as discussions on oppression of freedom from a single party government for the people, then things aren't too bad I suppose.

Driving

As a newbie here in Singapore, I’m entitled to drive on my international license for the first 12 months without having to worry about anything. Once I get past 12 months though, I need to take the Singapore Basic Driving Theory test. Why, I don’t really know. They drive on the same side as the UK, all the signs are in English, even the road signs look the same.
The only reason I can make out is that I probably drive quite sensibly and I have to take a test in how to drive like a twat.

Here is some evidence to go with this,

Example 1.
Whilst approaching an open junction with no clear right of way, what is the best course of action when two cars from opposite sides arrive at the same time?

Answer in England - Slow down to a safe speed, flash ones headlights whilst raising eyebrows northerly in a manner to suggest, after you dear Sir, thus allowing the opposing vehicle to navigate the crossing in a safe and thoroughly jolly encounter.

In Singapore – Drop your head down, make no eye contact at all with the opposing enemy and accelerate wildly until you either make it first or crash and explode in a fireball of death.

Example 2.
In a three lane highway, which is the correct procedure for overtaking slow moving traffic?

Answer in England – Using ones mirrors (all three of them), indicate well in advance and manoeuvre in a controlled and somewhat graceful manner into the lane to the right hand side of said slow moving vehicle. Politely wave in a nonchalant manner to the passing vehicle with a slight waft of the relaxed and loose wrist whilst smiling in appreciation throughout the exercise.

In Singapore – Never show weakness or anticipation by giving the game away by signalling, just jam your foot down on the gas and use any means necessary to undertake or overtake the infidel in front of you. Once past, rapidly jam on the brakes before slamming into the back of the vehicle you could not see as you were on your mobile phone therefore crashing and exploding in a fireball of death.

Now I’m not saying everyone drives like a complete cock in Singapore but there are some seriously bad examples out there. Maybe I’ll turn into one if I actually pass my test, who knows. It’s been over fifteen years since I learned to drive a car and over ten years since I learned to ride a superbike. To get me through the mish-mash of different signs here I’ve bought the theory book, which has the majority of signs and sample questions that you’d expect plus a couple of ones that you’d not expect on the mean streets of London. It’s got nothing like the “Give way to Elephants” or “Caution! – Monkeys” signs I saw in Africa, but there are a couple of odd ones for sure.

My test is on the 21st Jan so I’ll swot up a little on stopping distances, aggressive taxi evasion techniques and other salient pieces of information that might be in the book beforehand.

As they say, if you can’t beat them, join them

Monday 8 November 2010

Musings from Indonesia

After a few busy weeks at work I was all ready for a vacation and some trip I had lined up! I’d been planning a bit of a dive/bum around type trip for a few weeks and finally putting a trip together to Indonesia to visit Bali, the Gili Islands and finally some of the lower parts of Indonesia, Flores to be exact which is where Komodo and the famous Komodo dragons are to be found.
My good mate Steph happened to be in town at the same time with work by chance so I had my dive buddy to drag along and get reckless with underwater.
First point of call was Bali for no other reason than it’s the main small island hub in Indonesia, at least from a flight perspective. I’d no real affinity or desire to visit Bali and to be honest it’s not really my kind of place, at least the parts I visited anyway. I know there are probably some amazing parts to Bali, and I know I travelled to the bits that are advertised as bawdy, brash and over commercialised. At least the guide book was accurate.

Kuta is like the Indonesian version of Blackpool/Brighton/Margate for the visiting Aussies. Sadly, it was not my cup of tea, but I knew what I was in for prior to arriving so it was not too disappointing. I’ve already promised myself that next time I’m passing through that I’ll visit the more remote areas to get a better balance of it and not think that the entire place is covered in pasty looking half cut fat Aussies. I think being in a predominantly Eastern culture the last few months may have made me more susceptible to being slightly irked by the beer chanting rugby loving whose got the most tattoos brigade. God help me if I ever go back to London!

After an evening in Bali it was a super early flight over to the Gili Islands. Gili Trawangan to be exact. The Gili islands are just off Lombok and consists of three small islands with no cars or motorised transport other than the occasional horse and cart that lug you from the ferry terminal, which is more like a few planks of wood on a bit of sand up to the hotel/guest house/boardings of choice you have booked. The little horse and carts are quite cute and the small ponies seem to have an enjoyable time of trotting up and down the seafront with the occasional sugar cube treat from passing tourists to keep them happy.

Gili T is quite small as an island and you could ride around it on bikes in about an hour or so. On arrival, the place seemed quite similar to a few other dive location places I’ve got to over the last few years, such as Phi Phi (pre Tsunami in 2000) and most obviously Dahab in Egypt.
The main difference in this trip was that I was 10 years older than other previous trips like this so lodging with the hippy, dreadlocked crusties in their twenties was not going to be that appealing as it once was.
So doing the only thing I could think of when presented with a beach full of crusties, I swiftly checked myself into the nearest fully equipped private infinity pool luxury chalet for 5 that I could find.

I was not disappointed.

I’ve stayed in some plush places in my time, but this was certainly in the top 5.
Private plunge pool that can take a 6ft 4 guy dive bombing into it – check
Fully equipped fridge full of beer, spirits and all you can drink booze – check
Fully appointed living rooms with lounging sofas and open walled rooms onto the pool – check
Horse and cart to take you wherever you wish whenever the need calls – check

All in all, it was one of the best holiday accommodation finds I’ve ever had, and for a price at far far less than I imagined. Good start then.
Even better was that the chalet was a little off the beaten track and quite close to a secluded beach on the opposite side of the island that I imagine a lot of the other inhabitants would never venture too. This made sunsets all the more spectacular whilst supping upon a nice cold Bintang on your own private beach. As Mastercard put it, the price for no crusties, priceless.

Gili was to be home for the next 3 days or so whilst I hatched a plan to venture further East through the Nusa Tenagarra . The Nusa region itself is absolutely massive and is made up of various isles forming a rather large labyrinth of islands, inlets, idyllic locations and places to lose yourself in.
As ever, some diving had to be done in Gili before the real stuff later on. Diving in Gili is pretty good but nothing to get too crazy about. The highlight for me though was a 45mtr Japanese wreck between the main islands. Whilst nothing on the scale of the Thistlegorm or other big wrecks that there are, it was very impressive if not for the fact that the coral build up and aquatic life surrounding it was quite spectacular. Sunk in WW2, it’s a small sized patrol boat sitting perfectly upright in a reasonably strong current. Being one of the harder dives to do in the area (although its pretty easy to be fair) it was only me and two other Instructors doing it which made it all the more better as we could relax and do our own thing.

As now seems customary on holiday nowadays or maybe it’s just that I’m holidaying in Asia, I found myself leaning towards going for a massage whilst here. Actually, it was Steph dragging me along to the hotel spa as she was after a bit of a scrub and wash.
When we arrived at the spa, the lovely girl behind the desk answered that they had space for two people having a Balinese massage but one of them would be by a man and would we mind. Steph being the honourable female instantaneously laid claim to the 4ft something delicate waif like Balinese girl whilst I was saddled with the male masseuse.
I have never had a male massage before and after a minute or so of deliberation I decided that in the interests of equality and balance that I was quite ok with the matter. The more I thought about it, the more the idea of having someone with a bit more butch about them to kneed my weary limbs became appealing.
So in I walk and was presented by a slightly more miniature but equally alarming version of Johnah Lomu. To say that this guy had hands that looked like they had shaped planets would be something of an understatement. His fingers were each about the size of a Walls sausage and his thumbs had been flattened and softened into what I can only describe as gigantic ladle shaped implements.
Balinese aromatherapy massage is supposed to be quite deep on the muscles and is described as invigorating, stress relieving and therapeutic. I can safely say that I was none of those things upon the sight of “Edward-going-to-wring-you-dry-bitch-Hands”.

As we started off with some gentle stokes all was good, although as we progressed on to the more stronger parts I did end up thinking that if he squeezed me any harder that I’d burst like a tube of toothpaste and all my innards would shoot out of one end or the other. To say that I could feel the vital bits inside of my body bobbling along on the underside of my ribs like a human xylophone would be a good example of just how tough this guy was. Being a typical guy, when he asked me in the most effeminate Mike Tyson of lilts of “Are you ok?” I could only just suck in enough enough air into my squished lungs and squeeze out a whimpering “Yes, thaaaaaatts..... fiiiiiiine” that seemed to fluctuate wildly between the higher octaves. Julie Andrews would have been proud.

After about an hour of this my time was up and my body was done. During the last few minutes I think I was having some kind of outer body experience as I was thinking some very odd thoughts. Granted, my very essence of man and inner soul had probably been squeezed out of my now limp body and was swishing around somewhere on the floor amongst the flower petals, but after a bit of reflection the last time I’d felt like this was probably as a small boy being towel dried by my Dad after my Sunday evening bath just after the end of Songs of Praise. It’s odd how the senses can bring back the most distant of long and forgotten memories.

Having slowly come out of my regressed state I finally scooped up my innards and lolled my way down to the beach in a jelly like state for a few well earned cocktails.
The great thing about Bali is that you can allow yourself to drink all manner of naff cocktails served in glasses made out of opened up coconuts and not feel like a complete tit. I can’t remember the last time I drank a cocktail out of a cup shaped like a monkeys head, but after a few I was past caring and coupled with my softy skinned and supple exterior my brain was reaching a suitably addled level as well.

The next day I felt like I’d been hit full on by a train but was able to stretch to places that a Russian gymnast would be proud of.
I’d have no qualms about having a guy massage me again having done it. In fact I can highly recommend it, especially if you’ve got a few clicks or knots that really need shifting. Just don’t be afraid to say when it’s just a little bit too hard and you’ll be right as rain or just a little bit taller than when you first went in.

After a few days of beach bliss it was time to get back on the speed boat and whisk back to Bali to get the puddle jumper of a plane to Flores. Flores is one of the more westerly parts of the southern Indonesian Islands and has been recommended to me many times as one of the best dive locations around, especially for seeing Mantas, something which have eluded me for most of my diving career. The flight is a quick forty minutes and landing in Labuan Bajo is quite a neat experience. Bajo is a little ramshackle fishing port with nothing much at all to it other than a few dilapidated fishing boats and a scattering of little shops selling all manner of tat to the visiting tourists who use it as a base for visiting Komodo and the surrounding islands. I’d actually done a bit of homework for once and had plumped for the idea of going on a three day liveaboard at sea with one of the local dive dudes. The beauty and advantages about doing liveaboards rather than shore based diving are many and as I wanted to do as much of this away from the crowds this looked like the best option available.
I chanced upon local dive dude Condo (pronounced Jondo in these parts) who was an ex Komodo National Park Ranger and a bit of a dive god in these parts. Having done over 10,000 dives and pretty much discovered the entire region over the last 20 years and named most of the dive sites (still a dream of mine to do) I decided that this was the fella to show me around. Condos boat he explained was not much, but it was cheap, friendly and we’d be the only two on the dive sites so would have pretty much the entire National Park to ourselves. I signed up quickly, agreed a price and we were off down to the jetty the next day as quick as a flash.
Having my own boat, my own dive sites and my own personal dive god was not something I was going to dally over.
His boat I can only describe as rustic. No radio, no O2, no radar - which are all pretty much common place on most dive boats. It did have a resident ants nest though which is a first for me and I’ve been on a lot of boats! As far as a dive boats go it had all the required prerequisites of being able to chug around the Flores seas and plonk us down right on to the pristine reefs and channels that I’d come so far to see. The best way to describe the boat is that it looked not to dissimilar to the wooden boat in Jaws just after the shark had taken the back half of it off in one giant bite. It was certainly as flimsy as that one and had more bits of sea beaten and frayed rope holding it together than any boat I’ve seen or sailed on before.

My personal favourite though was a rolled up sock stuffed into the side of the boat which I can only presume was shoring up some sort of leak just above the waterline. It took all of my personal might not to pull it out and see what would happen. Now, don’t get me wrong, the boat was more than worthy for sailing in and for a couple of people on a three day trip around the islands it fit the bill perfectly. I instantly took a likening to Condo, which was not so hard in that his easygoing nature and absolute and totally overwhelming knowledge of the local area was second to none. He was as curious about me as I was about him so we had many a good story to tell in-between dives gassing about our lives while we ourselves off–gassed in the sun lounging on the jib of the boat.
It’s pretty rare that you meet someone who is an absolute master in his field but Condo really did bowl me over from the minute we got on the boat. I knew I was in secret awe of the guy and in great company and I was going to try and soak up as much of it as possible. Fishing together off the back of the boat to catch our supper was something that I’ll remember for a long time, although if I eat anymore perfectly cooked fresh fish in the next month I’ll end up looking like one.

The big hope for me on this trip was to dive quite closely with the large Manta rays which were apparently in abundance in these parts. When I asked if it would be possible to see them on the trip, Condo coolly turned back to me and with a slight smile asked me “What time I’d like to see them?”. At this point I got a little bit overexcited and did a bit of a schoolboy giggle which I’m not entirely sure I got away with made me look cool as you like.

The diving in Komodo I can safely attest to is some of the finest in the world. I’ve dived in a lot of locations all over the world and have never really been able to answer the age old question that Instructors get asked a lot which is “Where is the best place you’ve dived?”. I’ve never been able to answer that properly before because nearly everywhere in the world has something unique to that place which will make that one and every other one like it special in some kind of way. I do of course count out Wraysbury lake which will always be a complete cesspool and should be filled in with concrete at the nearest opportunity, but that’s a different story altogether.

After just a couple of dives with Condo and before we’d actually even seen a Manta I already made my mind up that this place was one of the best if not the best location I’d ever been to. The diving is truly out of this world. The abundance, magnitude and diversity of aquatic life on a single dive is something that I had never experienced before in many many hundreds of dives. The reefs and corals themselves look like they’ve been down to the gym, got on the Arnie bulk fast programme and pumped themselves full of steroids as if to be in some body building contest just for fauna. They are in such fantastical shape and are in pristine show condition.
After my second dive here whilst climbing precariously back up the wooden ladder on the back of the boat in case it might come away at any given moment and launch me spectacularly back into the sea I found myself being a little bit awestruck.
I can't actually remember the last time this happened to me and we had not even seen the big stuff yet.

That my friend was going to be in the afternoon.

The Komodo diving is not for everyone to be honest although Condo, like any good Instructor, would never take you anywhere that was not possible for you to go. Being quite experienced, we decided to go and do a dive that tourists don’t normally get to go on and to say the least, I’d call it slightly hairy.

It was truly epic. We dived a 45mtr dive on a two point current meet. That’s where two strong currents meet together at the edge of a reef system and bring in all manner of activity. Current diving can be quite taxing, especially if you just want to stay in one place and watch the world pass you by without having to fight against the oncoming current. Not that you can fight it, as the sea is all big and powerful, and simply put, we are not.
I’ve dived some great drift dives over the years but nothing prepared me for this. As we dropped down to about 40mtrs we roped ourselves on to some reef hooks and latched ourselves on to the corner of the reef and held on for dear mercy. Two currents were meeting together about 20mtrs in front of the point and being aimed straight back at us over a coral pinnacle maybe 6ft tall in front of us which I was now attached firmly to. This allowed us to pop our heads up over the coral head and look down the edge of the reef without being swept away in the current. I’ve never experienced anything like it and to be hit full face on with a 4 knot head current was something that I won’t forget in a hurry. The effect of this was mesmerising. As we hung there cowering behind the pinnacle holding on for dear life, ten or so reef sharks hung about three feet away from me circling the pinnacle picking off lunchtime fish as they pleased. Just as I gawped at this a pair of dolphins clicked past giving us the eye as they stopped, taking a cursory glance towards us and deciding that we must be a bit mental to be sat hanging around there and sped off into the open sea.

We lasted about 40 minutes there which any seasoned diver will know puts you way into decompression so it was time to leave. My tank was precariously low by now and ideas like drop tanks and decompression stages gasses had been thrown out with the ships radio, radar and other useless diving paraphernalia back on the shore.
After we unhooked ourselves from the coral we had to throw ourselves into the maelstrom of the two currents and wait to get spat out the far end so that we could be picked up by the tender. This bit was a little bit scary but Condo had told me what to expect so I was pretty comfortable with it.
Condo’s dive briefing was something like this.

“OK - Andeee ....This is the sea....We jump in..... We see sharks...We get thrown around a little.... We get out.”

Personally, I see nothing more that needs adding to a dive briefing like that, but even I was feeling that the descriptive parts of “You’ll get thrown around a little” to be somewhat lacking in creative narrative.
The actual effect was like being put on a fast spin cycle and was one of the few times where I was totally out of control and at the mercy of the sea. We were thrown from 10mtrs to 5mtrs back to 10mtr about three or four times and then finally spat out on to a flat coral ledge at 5mtrs which is where it all calmed down and I could try and figure out what had just happened. It was a bit hairy like I said, but Condo was smirking away at me from behind a battered regulator so I tried to not look too mangled up and gained a little bit of composure whilst attempting to settle into my 20 minute decompression stop that I’d managed to accumulate whilst doing the impression of a solitary old sock in a extended rinse cycle.
It’s rare that I bleed a tank totally dry before finishing a dive, but after this one I was taking no chances and left the water only when a turtle sat next to me decided that I’d been sitting still there for so long that I was either worth some turtle based rumpy pumpy with or having a little nibble upon my rather edible looking fins.
After a long 1hr 10 mins which is pretty good for a 45mtr dive on a single tank it was time to dry off and reflect on the surface.

Reef hooks are pretty much an essential piece of kit here as you will get swished around quite a lot in the rapidly changing currents. If you want the chance to see something without being thrown past it you need to know how to use one properly or you’re either going to get lacerated on the protruding coral or see absolutely nothing as you are tossed around like a piece of lettuce in a colander.
Condo had this amazing reef hook which he waved around like some magic wand which was quite a good effect as he’d wave it in a general direction and low and behold, as if some Harry Potter scene was happening in front of me – something large and impressive would magically appear in the direction it was pointing. This I found very entertaining and wished for one of my own. This proved to be a very invaluable piece of magical attire when we went on the Manta dive of the day.

As I’ve said and I make no bones about it, I’ve only seen a Manta once in my entire dive career and it was one of those “Did I really see it??” type sightings where it was a bit blurry, several metres away and with about 40 other buffoons splashing around somewhere. So, I’d hardly say it was the kind of sighting that Attenborough would be silkily regaling about. I’d high hopes here and I can safely say afterwards that I had my fair share of Manta action over the few days I had here.

On our final dive of the day and with one flick of the magic manta divining rod, Condo laid out 8 or so gigantic Mantas on what was the best dive of my entire life. Luckily, I even got a bit of video of it and you can just make out me in the background. Yes, that’s me, the one who has swallowed the regulator from smiling too much.

Mantas to me and quite a lot of other people are the true majesties of the sea. They are massive beyond belief, they are graceful to an extent that they are entrancing to watch and to top it off they are quite inquisitive creatures who will take a bit of interest in the odd passing diver if you are lucky enough.
That I was when thankfully, the biggest one of the day which was about 20ft across came swooping by just centimetres over my head as I led down flat on the coral bed barely daring to breathe. Its tennis ball sized eye giving me a cursory glance over as it stopped, flapping it’s huge wingspan a little whilst just glancing gently against my head and moving onwards will be something that I’ll remember for a long long time.

I really need to get myself one of the magic reef wands though.

On the final day it was time to set course back to Bajo and stop off at Komodo and The Rinca Islands, which are the natural habitat for the Komodo Dragon. Ore as they are commonly referred to are the largest living reptile still in existence and are commonly thought as the nearest thing we have around to the dinosaurs. Rinca, the island that I went to is the smaller of the two and offers a few hikes around with the local rangers to go and spot these magnificent beasts in the wild. In Rinca, they feed mainly on water buffalo which have been introduced by man as to keep the numbers of Ore at a high enough level as to not endanger the population level. Until about 10 years ago a live goat used to be sacrificed each day to them as to put on a bit of a show but this has now been ceased and they generally loll about until they get hungry enough to go kill more naturally. Again, Condo being an ex Ranger had lots of good stories to tell which made the day all the more interesting. The Dragons themselves are quite impressive and it’s pretty disconcerting to be 5ft away from these beasts when they are eyeing you up as their next meal. It’s all pretty safe though and quite good fun and something I’m really pleased to have done.
The landscape on Rinca is out of this world. You really do feel that you are back in the beginning of time looking out over the terrain from Jurassic Park without a human blemish on the landscape. It made me think a lot about how much me do cock the place (i.e. the world) up by us being here. When you look out at a landscape untouched by us you can see what a different place it would be if we weren't around building coffee shops everywhere.

As we chugged back into port I thought to myself why I’d never considered this before? When I worked out that from London it would take 3 days travelling just to get here and the same to return the answer was a bit more obvious. The gateway to these parts has been opened and I absolutely wholeheartedly cannot wait to explore some more of it over the coming year. I guess that’s what the purpose is here.
Moreover, I looked back out to the sea and smiled to myself and for the first time in a very long time I finally felt content inside. It’s taken a while but it’s getting there.