November 3rd to 6th
Next stop: Lake Toba, a lake in the caldera of the largest volcano in the world, next predicted to cause a super eruption in 600,000 years’ time, give or take. Samosir is the island on the lake caused by the last super volcanic eruption, the global climate changing event of its time. This was our final destination. We had to get there first, which involved being driven by a 12 year old maniac. OK, he probably wasn’t 12 but when he hit 150 kph on the straight I closed my eyes and waited for the end. I was concerned the end may be earlier than the anticipated 4 hour arrival time. To be fair the single lane carriageway overtaking was worse … but we got there, eventually, turning up at the little town of Parapat on the edge of Lake Toba.
Even the first view was breathtaking, the whole place looks like some kind of picture postcard view of what a tropical paradise should look like. We caught the passenger ferry from Tigaraga harbour, jumping onto the wooden ferry and seating ourselves on what appeared to be garden furniture, before the boat chugged its way the thirty minutes or so across the lake to Tuktuk, where we were staying.
Our homestay owner met us on two mopeds – rucksacks in front of them, us on the back – and we scooted off down narrow paths and through rice and corn fields to our latest room, on the top floor overlooking a gorgeous view of the bay. It almost made the drive worth it, sitting at the end of the garden, Bintang in hand, looking at the flat still surface of the lake, with storks flapping back and forth overhead, and fishermen punting around in small kayaks.
Tuktuk is the village where it all seems to happen on Samosir (at least for us tourists) The eruption of 75,000 years ago created a remote but now accessible version of paradise. Paradise is mainly inhabited by the Toba Batak people who fish, farm and are great musicians. They are now largely protestant Christian, members of the HKBP church (Huria Kristen Batak Protestant) of German Lutherian descent. The prevailing animism and Hinduism gave way to the German Lutheran missionaries in the 1860’s having resisted previous attempts of conversion by both British and American contingents. Reports of cannibalistic practices to put off the missionaries seem to have been overstated.
We arrived in low season, yet no one seems to have closed up shop for the season. Nearly every home is also a restaurant or a shop and all of them were open, despite there being hardly any visitors. We ate the first night in what looked like someone’s living room, and the food was delicious. In fact the food everywhere was great, no matter how shabby appearing the surroundings.
We hired scooters and drove around randomly. Even for us getting lost on a single circumnavigating road seemed unlikely.
Us not getting lost on a one track road.
We had coffee in a shack watching a sea eagle fishing, we rambled through a market marvelling at the food on offer, including the chickens that were clearly destined for someone’s dinner plate that evening and we turned left to find a 100 metre long mall (more a tunnel) full of clothes and souvenirs, with the tomb of the first King of the island hidden away at the end of it. We looked at the local Batak houses, with their characteristic boat shaped roofs and found the top of the island where there is another lake – a lake in an island on a lake in an island. Which – obviously – has it’s own windmill …
We ended the day in Roy’s Bar, listening to a local band doing covers of everything from hard rock to the Carpenters – although the biggest applause came for some local pop songs. Don’t get there early though, we and the band were the only people in the place for about an hour!
The following day was the quietest we’ve had – a gentle wander through the streets to find a local café for a lovely breakfast – complete with cat, and then a quiet lunchtime in a bar with the most wonderful views. We were on the verge of leaving when a party of schoolchildren doing a language course descended on us to practice their English – so we had another beer and chatted to them for about an hour. Turned out they lived an hour or so away and had come to Tuktuk specifically to find English speakers to talk to. It’s a common thing apparently, although as we were the only people in the place, tucked away in a little bar, quite how they found us is a mystery.
We ended the day in Ginger’s, a local warun, drinking ginger tea, surrounded by locals celebrating a birthday. Yet again we had a lovely meal, cooked in the front of us, costing almost nothing.
The following morning we ended up where we started, sitting on a jetty, delivered by moped, looking at the incredible picture postcard views as the little ferry boat chugged into view. It was probably the quietest two days of our journey so far, and completely unforgettable. However things were about to change significantly – cue one nine hour crazy car journey and then we head into the jungle …
