Today I woke up feeling fairly well-rested, but I have a feeling I could have slept for a few more hours if I had the chance. Immediately, I was debating if I really wanted to do anything before leaving for Bukittinggi: my head felt heavy and I wasn’t really thinking clearly. I just felt slow and a bit uninspired.
One thing I told myself about this trip was that I wasn’t just going to go out and do something because the travel guide says to. I will try to make it to their recommended sites and restaurants and such, but I just don’t see the good in dashing out to see every little thing when I’m not really that interested. I keep thinking if I don’t see x, y, or z I might be missing 3 of the coolest things I will ever see and that later I’ll regret not making the effort. But let’s be honest, odds are good that it’s not going to be the most beautiful thing ever, and to regret not forcing myself to do something I’m not really excited about is just silly.
One thing I will get out of bed for is breakfast, especially if it’s free. Given the choice between fried rice and scrambled eggs on toast I take the former, and I’m glad that I did. It was a huge portion and really tasty, served with those curved rice chips that they love here. And then there it was: my first cup of REAL Sumatran coffee! You have to be a bit careful when you drink kopi, though, because it’s served very differently than in the US. The grounds are right there in the mug, ground extremely finely, and hot water is poured over them, so be sure to wait until they settle to the bottom before you drink. Most places leave out a sugar bowl and pretty much everyone adds a few heaping spoonfuls of it (including myself) because this is a strong brew. If you order kopi susu, you’ll get a sizeable serving of condensed, sweetened milk stirred in, which is how most locals do it, but I just can’t bring myself to drink that stuff. Blech.
However, I might have to do something: Iyeli is coming to meet me at 9 and she is really anxious to take me out to see and do things. But all I want to do is go back to bed for an hour and then sleep on the bus on the way to Bukittinggi. Well, I think I just decided what I’m going to do this morning: very little. I’m going to apologize to Iyeli, sleep for an hour or two, check-out, and be on my way.
**3 hours later**
Why do I insist on thinking things are going to be easier than they actually turn out to be? Why did I think that I’d be able to get a bus to Bukittinggi relatively quickly? Why did I think that it wouldn’t take nearly as long as it’s turning out to be taking? I either need to be richer or more pessimistic and only one of those is likely to actually happen...
Okay, I’m not thinking about it, instead thinking about how beautiful it is that in the distance you can see clouds wrapping around the mountains that are covered in jungle so dense that everything in sight looks greenish-grey. How sweet it’s been for people to comment on the shalwar khameez I’m wearing and compliment me for making the effort to “dress Muslim”. The waterfall we just passed. The amazing view over the enormous cliff just a few feet from the wheels below me...
But at least we’re making good time. I think I’ve got to hand it to this guy. I’ve been on a lot of shitty buses with a lot of shitty drivers, but this guy has to be the most lethal. Despite the small children on board and the evidence of recent mud and rock slides along the edge of the road, he drives through the rain at an excessive speed, swerving between lanes so severely that our heads are bobbing side to side like toys. He only alters from this practice when we come to a curve (which, on a 2-lane road going up and down hills in the jungle, is fairly frequently), at which point he is gracious enough to accelerate WHILE passing in the opposite lane. Love it.
But outside the window is where the best action is: this is one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever had in my life. The rain clouds have moved in, burying the top half of the mountains in mist and fog, teasing the viewer with occasional glimpses of foliage and bungalows. Sometimes the jungle comes right up to the edge of the road and you swear you see a shadow move through the trees. And then there’s the terrace farming, neat steps of green carved out of the hillside that almost make it seem like living in a village is relaxing and romantic.
Buses offer odd glimpses into other people’s lives and sometimes I find myself very annoyed by it. There are a million pictures I couldn’t take today because we were going too fast and I couldn’t get my camera out or it wasn’t in focus or whatever. And even beyond that I want to stop and investigate some of these places and talk to the people. No, I take that back. Mostly I just want to take out my camera, sit in the background, observe what’s happening and take photos. I’m not like some people, who want to get to know the locals and stay with them and that sort of thing. I enjoy the occasional conversation, but mostly I want to sit back and soak things in.
So I am now in Bukittinggi. Maybe it’s that it’s raining (and I lurvs the rain), maybe it’s the view (heavenly), maybe it’s the fact that there aren’t people shouting at me as I walk down the street, maybe it’s the fact that other westerners are staying in my hotel... something about Bukittinggi is immediately relaxing and I can tell that I’m not going to be in any kind of a hurry while I’m here. All I have to do is decide if I’m interested in a tour or not, where to go on my motorbike tomorrow, and how many hot, chocolate-cinnamon pancakes are a good idea for me to have (do yourself a favor and have one at the Turret Cafe when you come to Bukittinggi next time). 
I ask Ulrich, the German who owns Rajawali, the hotel I’m staying in, if he knows anything about renting motorbikes, and he tells me I should talk to another young man interested in renting one. He’s staying upstairs, near the rooftop garden. Enter: Elias, a 25 year-old German guy who is traveling the world for a few years. We decide to walk around town a bit together and spend a few pleasant hours getting to know each other while checking out the zoo, the market, a game of some kind of football/volleyball hybrid, and a quick dinner. When we return to Rajawali we meet George and Elvis, a Brit and Norwegian riding motorcycles around the world for a few years, and it doesn’t take long to decide we’ll all hit the road together tomorrow for my first motorbike ride in Indonesia. I give myself until lunch to crash/fall over, but right now I’m just interested in falling into bed. So goodnight.
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