Marty Magic Travel Blog: Sao Hot Springs and onto Bajawa

I wake before 6:00 A.M. feeling refreshed and walk across the courtyard to our hotel’s restaurant and write. The back of my legs from below my shorts down to my ankle are flaming with sunburn. I am the only one awake and am anxious for coffee but know that I must be patient. The restaurant begins to stir at 7:00 a.m. and the French Roast coffee is strong and flavorful. Breakfast is a repeat of overly cooked overly salted omelette or a dry banana pancake without palm syrup. Yanze reminds us to order a boxed lunches to go and by 9:00 A.M. we are driving towards Bajawa, via the Soa Hot Springs. The morning drive takes us though beautiful countryside. We feel fortunate to have Yance as our guide. His agreeable personality, driving skills and English are all topnotch. He stops frequently under the pretense of giving us the chance to take photos but I suspect that many of the photo opts are timed to his cigarette breaks.

Vista view of the valley

The road to Soa

We arrive at the Sao Hot Springs about noon, pay the small entrance fee and enter the park. Scraggly hedges edge cracking walkways and flowered bushes are planted haphazardly. Although not landscaped to our standards, the grounds are pretty and families are picnicking and relaxing in the shade of a variety of trees.

Alisha at Soa Hot Springs garden

Son Hot Spring garden

Center in the park is the hot spring and the hottest of the pools which is presently occupied by a half dozen men.

The hottest of the Soa pools

The men and our sunburnt legs deter us from the hot pool and we walk a bit downstream and dip our toes into warm but not scalding water. With her protective, long sleeved sun shirt, Alisha works her way into the water, lying down in the flowing stream. We see our Dutch friends in a cooler pool below and I sit waist deep in the warm water and visit with Jan while his two girls swim in the stream. Alisha swims along the narrow but fast moving stream and relaxes against the rocks of a small waterfall flowing from the hot upper pool.

Soa Hot Springs, Marije and Famke

Alisha in the Soa Hot Spring waterfall

Downstream, young men soap their bodies and wash their hair. Although we are not looking forward to our boxed lunches of cold nasi goreng and mie goreng, our stomachs grumble and we eat a few bites each of the greasy cold meals. The Sao Hot Springs dogs are delighted that we leave most of our lunches for them.

Our unappealing boxed lunches

Mother dog enjoying our leftovers

We arrive at the Happy Happy hotel late afternoon, a small guest house at the end of town. Our room is simple and clean with a utilitarian bathroom and wi-fi.

Our Happy Happy room

Tired and dirty feet

Happy Happy bathroom

Happy Happy house rules

We take much needed showers, check our e-mail and walk uphill and into the town. We pass a school and a busy soccer field and walk along a street of tidy government buildings. The afternoon light is lovely and the gilded domes on the town mosque shine in the afternoon sun. A Christian church sits across the street.

The Bajawa Mosque

Bajawa school girls

Mother and child

Bajawa school girls

Gasoline for sale at a Bajawa convince store

Bajawa women

We see a few young European travelers but the town is not overrun with tourists and feels very authentic. Alisha and I stroll along a street of shops poking into several dimly lit clothing shops crammed and hung with three levels high with lacy and sequined blouses and faux batik men’s shirts. Two men sit in the back of one, heads bent over sewing machine and I wonder how they can see with only the fading afternoon light to illuminate their work. We venture into the depths of a second dark store and peruse the many colorful ornate blouses covered with protective cellophane. One particular lime green and pick embroidered tunic catches both Alisha’s and my eyes and we ask the kind woman if she might have Alisha’s size? She pulls out several for Alisha to try on and we step into a dressing room in the storage area. The young woman is from Java and proudly puts her English to use and to her delight, when we find one that fits I pay the exorbitant 250,000 rupees, a little less than $20. Although I thought that I had our hotel bearings in relationship to where we have wandered, when we exit the store we are somewhat disoriented. We spot the two European women we saw earlier and inquire if they might know which downhill street might lead to the Happy Happy Hotel?. They are taking photos in a graveyard and we observe the same dramatic beauty of the tombs in the afternoon light and take our own photos.

Bajawa graveyard

They tell us to wait a few minutes and they will walk with us in that direction. We pass their hotel, which they tell us is terrible, an unattractive 4 story cement building. It is sandwiched within the one short block of ‘tourist’ restaurants. They point us down the street and around the corner to our Happy Happy guest house. Situated now, and in a district of seemingly acceptable eateries, Alisha and I choose a small cafe, order a Bintang beer and listen to the street performers outside. The ‘island’ music lifts our spirits and we order what we hope is safe, chicken sate and fried potatoes.

I believe it is this meal on this trip that I will live to regret. Back at Happy Happy we check e-mail and go to sleep tired, tired.