We left early on the 12th for the ferry in Georgetown. A british guy, Doug, was headed the same way, so we happily joined up for the journey. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and we were scheduled for an 8:30 departure. We had stayed up fairly late the night before, though, so we were all a bit groggy. When we arrived at the ferry terminal we found a massive congregation of people and cargo, all destined for Medan.

It's currently holiday time for everyone here, it being Ramadan, and Deepavali, so everyone is travelling around. I guess a huge number of Indonesians came over to Malaysia to go to Langkawi, or somewhere, and now it was time to go back. We queued up at the end of the line, but were ushered forward by uniformed, armed too, officials. Somehow the whiteness of your skin determined your position in line. Felt badly as I walked past all the families and small children, but I do think they were lined up for something different - that's what I tell myself. Whisked through the check in line, then to a money exchange where I traded a couple Ringitts for a few thousand Rupiah (7500rupiah to the CDN$), then onward to immigration to be stamped out of Malaysia. Next to the ferry boat, where another massive line up clogged access to the boat. Again, however, we were ushered to the front and loaded onto the boat. I had expected to leave on time, 8.30, but we waited around in an almost empty boat until 9.30, and then I found out we weren't supposed to leave until 10. I have no idea why my ticket said 8:30; might have been to get us there early, but seeing as how we were preferentially loaded....
The cabin we were seated in was positively cold, and the indian karaoke videos playing on the tv at the front didn't entice me to stay in my seat. I found a nice place up on the top deck where all the locals were happily seated. Took the opportunity to get some sun, read my book, and listen to my thai cd's. Got too much sun though, and had to go below deck sometime later. Happily found an empty row of seats and had a nap. The 4 hour journey turned into close to 5hours, but we arrived safely in Indonesia around 3:30pm. We unloaded en masse and wandered around until a large military man walked up to me and stuck out his pudgy hand. "You first time in Indonesia, man? Welcome to my country!" Felt really good after that. Knew that I'd like it here. More uniformed officials herded the western contingent (three of us) to the front of another long line up, the immigration line. This time, however, we were legitimately advanced, as only foreigners have to pay for a VISA, all the rest had to line up in the no-visa line. We paid 25$US for a 30day VISA and got a beautiful full page colour sticker/visa. Whoo-hoo! As with most travellers, getting a new stamp means great excitement. Maybe I'm making that part up, maybe it's just me....
We pretty much walked through customs and were thrust out into the hot sun of Belawan, the port of Medan, about 20km out of the city. We were greeted by hundred of locals tightly bunched within ropes and a line of armed guards. dunno what they were doing; seemed a bit rough if they were just meeting their family... We got on the "free" bus to Medan, upon which we were forced to pay 4RM. Recent change, apparently. Still think we were robbed. Only $1, though, so i can't cry too much.
I was ready to go as soon as were were on the bus, but nobody else was. My eagerness stemmed from my desire to reach Toba that day, not wanting to spend a night in Medan, one of Indonesia's larger cities at 2.2million. One the bus we foreigners waited patiently for the bus to fill, which I'm sure took at least an hour. Finally off, we sailed along rough roads past gated yards full of shipping containers. Already Indonesia's poverty compared to Malaysia was evident. We drove past a few rusty currugated iron slums. Buildings were not well maintained here, and the road was a bit rough. As we entered the city, it was clear that this was a sprawling metropolis where one story slummy shops predominated. I think the flattened nature of the city meant that it sprawled over a massive track of land. We weaved through what looked to be downtown, past some nicer areas.
A very friendly man on the bus, smelling the money in our wallets, no doubt, offered to help us. He pulled out his cell phone and called his friend. we all got off the bus and the friend was there in a small minivan. We got it and hurried to some ATMs to get money before going to the bus station. None of the money machines worked, though, so we tried a money changer, where I got a horrible exchange rate for my US$ traveller cheques. We arrived at the "bus station" which turned out to be a shop with a minibus in front. We had time to grab a bite of food, for which I paid 13,000 rupiah (somehow andrew and doug paid less than half that for similar meals, no time to dispute this though) for a semi-delicous rice and curry meal (hadn't eaten since the night before).
I had to use the bathroom before we left, and i was told it was up a set of stairs to the left of the 'bus station'. I explored the stairs and found myself in a discount housing complex, with cement boxes as rooms, with no running water and only basic electricity. A few doors were slightly ajar, and I could see small families sitting on a bare floor. One family was gathered around a sliver of broken mirror, apparently getting ready to go out, or something. Sounds like I was spying, but i was really just taking in everyting i saw. I found the bathroom, a cement box with a squat toilet and a bucket of water - common in SE Asia. When I returned to the bus, i found that i had been locked in behind a steel gate. I yelled out but no one seemed too concerned. Andrew and Doug were nearby and thought it was pretty funny... I, however, was not amused. Yelling at the indonesians nearby to find a key, and at andrew and doug to help me out (i did have a smile on my face, but was still unpleased). They didn't really make what i considered to be an effort to rescue me, so i went back in to try and find another route out. No luck. About 15minutes passed, after which one guy finally came in through some secret passage and led me out through the back of a store. Bah!
We loaded onto the bus and found three Finnish guys, and a girl from Okinawa, were also heading to Lake Toba. That made a grand total of seven non-locals that I had seen so far in Indonesia - not a popular place among tourists so far!

I already described my minibus experience briefly, so will not go into the terrible journey from Medan to Parapat. I will say that the roads in Sumatra are terrible - narrow and windy. It took forever to leave Medan, and it seemed that the traffic jam would last the entire stretch to Toba, but it cleared out mostly after a few hours. Th four hour journey was actually much longer, though it was all a bit of a blur, i dunno how long it actually was. I've stopped wearing a watch, and... I think i've put the trip out of my memory.
We were dropped off at a losmen (guesthouse) and we stumbled out of our ride. We checked in and paid 10,000rp each for a double room, i think. rooms weren't too bad, beds were clean. That was enough. I think we would have settled for anything after that trip, though. And it was late.
We dropped our bags and staggered out to the main strip in Parapat to find some food. Luckily a few places were open, but most had food sitting behind glass windows - it looked old and cold, so we kept looking until we found a place to order off a menu. For 12,000 rp we had two sprites each and a fried rice dish. Back to sleep. First, though, I had the coldest shower so far in my journey.

I woke up very early the next morning, as i have been doing most of my trip. I thought about lying in bed for awhile longer, but decided to go out and explore the town. Parapat was on the eastern shore of Lake Toba, and was nothing more than a stopover point for tourists headed to Tuk Tuk, the resort town on Samosir Island. Lake Toba is a lake, one of the largest in SE Asia, filling a collapsed caldera volcano. in the middle of the lake is an island the size of Singapore, connected by a very narrow isthmus to the mainland (thus not really an island). I wandered up the steep main road to try for a nice view. I bought some fresh mangoes off a woman with a fat old goiter for 1000rp, probably got soaked here too, but whatever. I walked past a derelict building where two boys were presumably about to butcher a large pig. The squeals and the impending massacre prompted me to move on, quickly.
Every local I walked by stared at me, which I greeted with a smile and a clumsy rendition of "good morning" in Bahasa. They were very pleased and replied with the same. I walked up the hill and found a few fancier hotels among the neat streets. Lots of gardens everywhere. Parapat turned out to be a very nice little town. I went into a touristy hotel ho[ing for a western style breakfast, but i found the place deserted. I went up the stairs to find a viewpoint, but it wasn't high enough to see over the tropical pine trees hiding the lake from view.
Retracing my steps I went back to the losmen and ordered the food i desired. I guess they didn't have bread, though, or eggs, so the kind manager offered me some special fried rice, indonesian style. Dunno what was so special about them, but they were delicous. As was the instant coffee. By the way, it has so far been impossible to find real brewed coffee during my trip. Being in sumatra, where I am aware the Sumatran blend of starbucks coffee MUST originate from (right Stef?), I expected to have a delicous cup off coffee. It was tasty, but...
Andrew woke up and ate, as did Doug and the Japanese girl, Nami.
A local apparently caught wind that tourists were in town, and he had been hanging out with me since i got back to the hotel. I gather that the minibus driver was friends or worked with, or for, or liked, or knew, this little guy. He invited us to stay at his hotel in Tuk Tuk, which normally iwould dismiss. I prefer to find my own place - it's usually cheaper... This guy was a super guy, spoke english very well, as well as japanese and french, and the rates were good. His photo album sealed the deal, and we agreed to go with him (or at least I did). We caught a taxi to the pier for 1000rp and got out amidst a very busy morning market. Felt my pockets padded down in the crowd, but having nothing of any value accessible to prying hands, i didn't worry too much. We boarded the 11:30 ferry and left for the island of Samosir. the 4000rp ride took us to the southern most part of the island and stopped at every guesthouse along the way, dropping off locals and supplies. Along the way we saw lots of locals fishing in dugout canoes, bathing, washing clothes, gardening, etc. cool to see what life is like in central Sumatra. We arrived at Samosir Cottages and went to check in, where we met Sandra and Bin and Erwin, some of the nicest Indonesians you will ever meet. We waited for some time before we got our room, having time to eat and explore the hotel/resort. Apparently there was to be a massive influx of Medanians over the next three days, all taking advantage of the muslim holidays spurred by the completion of Ramadan (a month long period of daytime fasting and religious affairs). Luckily we got a good room, for more than our friend promised, but it had hot water, a nice view, and really wasn't that expensive (50 000rp/night for a double). Wondered why we were so actively recruited when accomodations were already booked...

Doug and Nami both decided to find their own places, so it was just Andrew and I at our resort. There were a few older couples, and some seniors, but really not very many westerners.

Andrew and I dropped out bags and set out to explore all that Tuk Tuk had to offer, intent on finding the book shop/library to trade my copy of "The Beach" that Ihad bought in Krabi and read in only a few days. No such luck in trading, but i did rent a book, "The Tesseract" for 1000rp. Onward. lots of little shops selling sarongs and batiks, wooden carvings and beer. We found Doug, who was also out to explore, and we went on to the library. I was almost able to convince the little girl who was tending the place to trade my book for another that I was interested in reading. Her mother was in Medan, though, so she was reluctant to make any deals. I even offered her a large bank note in the exchange, but she was very sure that I should wait until her mother returned the next day. I rented the book instead, frustrated.

Having seen almost all that Tuk Tuk had to offer I went back to read on our balcony.

Remarkably I finished the 270pg book in a matter of hours, just intime for our all-you-can-eat bbq at 8pm. doug met up with us after dinner, as did another canadian whom we had met at the ferry terminal. He was bound for Banda Aceh, but found that immigration restrictions would force him to wait until the end of the holidays before succeeding in his journey (Aceh province is closed to tourists due to violent outbreaks by the locals, unhappy with the centralised Javan government. You need a special permit to enter.). We had a few Bintangs (Indonesian beers) and found that a cultural show was about to begin.

(I've already spent 50 000rp on this internet, so i will wait until I'm back in Penang tomorrownight to finish.)

(Now back in Georgetown, I will finish...)

Normally I am not a big fan of 'cultural' shows as they are a bit forced and I always feel uncomfortable for the entertainers. This cultural show, however, was more of a concert. A group of rough, aged and weathered Batak men (the locals are predominantly of Batak heritage, having their own language and artwork and architecture, etc.) and four young girls began the performance demonstrating a series of dances. These were nothing too spectacular, and the girls DID seem like they were a bit unhappy to be forced to do this, but after a bit they started to have fun. Then the audience was invited to come up and learn the dance; this is the part where I usually sink down in my seat and avoid eye contact (like in elementary school during school-wide assemblies and performances), but this time I was the first to be chosen by one of the girls. The audience wasn't that big, and was mostly older couples, so it was all the younger audience members that were summoned to join in. I stood out as the tallest and, perhaps, the whitest, of the performers now. Surprisingly I had a fantastic time, and soon we were all singing and dancing. Great fun.
when the dancing was over, the singing began. The men of the group, who had been playing 'traditional' batak instruments (I say traditional in quotes because one of the instruments was a Bintang beer bottle and a fork, clanged together in surprising harmony), now joined forces to sing in a folk/barbershop fashion. I haven't heard such good singers before! They sang about a dozen songs, including one that would become my favourite, a yodelling version of a batak song. These men would scare the heck out of me if met in a dark alley, but hey sang with such glee, from the bottom of their hearts, having a great time! I took a video of this, but my camera batteries died early on. Plugs don't fit here,nor in malaysia.
After the performance, which left a great impression on me, Doug, Andrew, Jake (the other canadian guy), and I followed the beat of bass coming from a club (hard to believe that Tuk Tuk had a club! It's TINY!) nearby. Apparently Brando's is the place to be on a Saturday night, and there we found a disco-style dance club full of energetic Indonesians, locals mostly. Outside the club, on the wide veranda was a pool table where all the local boys and men came to hit balls around. We went in and sat down on cushions on the floor surrounding a low table, ordering a round of 1L Bintangs. After a few of these we joined in the dancing. The popular thing to do was dance with a hula hoop, of which there was only one; when it was free I tried my best to mimic the talented girls. Need only say that everyone in the establishment had a good laugh.

Danced the night away, and after almost every girl in the bar had professed her love to me, Jake, Doug and I set out to find food - scarce on a tiny island in the middle of mainland Sumatra at 2am. Luckily a small place across the lane formt he club had its lights on still, though I think Jake woke up the family who had just gone to bed. They were more than happy to mix up some Nie Goreng, though, for a hefty 8000rp. Hit the spot, and it being so late, I didn't mind paying the 1.25$, though it shouldn't have cost that much.

The next morning, again groggy, I woke up at 7.30, unable to sleep in. a delightfully WARM shower started the day (I have only had two other warm showers in my two months here, one at Mom's guesthouse on Khao San Rd, the other in Koh Phi Phi at Phi Phi Hills on long beach). The weather wasn't terribly good, overcast and coolish (25degrees). I had a plainish tasting "american" breakfast, enjoying the first peanut butter since leaving in September, and then read my book on the porch infront of our room, enjoying the beautiful view of the lake when I turned pages.

Bummer. I have to go shower and get ready for my bus ride. Maybe these entries are getting too long? I'll try to catch up while in KL... getting far behind.