Bukittinggi
Bukittinggi
Bukittinggi is a 2-hour car ride away from the Padang airport. There are no public buses going there, so you’ll need to take a taxi or a private minivan. You won’t have any difficulties finding those, as you’ll be attacked by the determined drivers or companies they work for when you leave the terminal.
My taxi driver was a very nice guy. His only fault was a passion for relentlessly romantic songs from the distant past (My Heart Will Go On and I Will Always Love You, among other classics). Oh, and Julio Iglesias, a completely surreal experience for a Spanish resident in an Indonesian taxi. When I asked my nice driver if maybe he had some local music that he could play as well, he put on something equally melancholic and love-themed (no, you don’t need to understand Indonesian to know that), which made me almost miss Julio after a while.
Music wasn’t the only challenge we encountered, though. Somewhere mid way, in the dark of night, we passed by a car that had broken down. It turned out the family in it were my driver’s friends, so of course he stopped to help. After several more stops and interventions with the car (and profuse apologies on the part of my driver), which in total amounted to over an hour of extra time, we ended up taking the family into the taxi anyway.
When I finally got to Bukittinggi, I did a good tour of the city, looking for accommodation that would be of a decent standard and not extortionately priced. The only backpacker hostel in town was fully booked. In the end I found a reasonable place and negotiated a discount (when they fetched someone who spoke English).
On that same night, when I ventured out in search of some dinner and decided to eat at a street cart where I spotted something other than meat on the display, I was chatted up by the group of people sitting there, some of whom spoke not only English, but even some limited Spanish (and of course started talking about Barca when I mentioned I lived in Barcelona). The young guy in the group turned out to be a tour guide, and became my companion for the following days.
Bukittinggi
He took me to the Sianok Canyon, a great view point both by day and at sunset. Apart from the view itself you can spot monkeys there (just make sure you don’t carry food or plastic bags unless you want to be attacked), and at dusk you can see what to me looked like big bats, but what my guide called flying dogs, crossing the Canyon.
Sianok Canyon
Sianok Canyon
Sianok Canyon
Sianok Canyon
cemetery by the Canyon
If you climb the stairs leading up the nearby hill, you’ll be rewarded with this view.
Bukittinggi
What stood out as well was the local architecture.
Bukittinggi
Bukittinggi
What didn’t stand out at all was the food, which I found rather underwhelming when compared to the cuisines of the other countries in the region.
Lake Maninjau
Lake Maninjau is a large crater lake surrounded by villages. Originally I was planning to go to Lake Toba after Pulau Weh, but decided against it in the end, and Lake Maninjau just made more sense from Bukittinggi.
My Bukittinggi guide insisted on taking me there on his motorbike, to which I first opposed, knowing that it’s a 2-3 hour ride, and considering the fact that we’d have to fit all my luggage on the motorbike as well. I consented in the end, convinced by the fact that we’d be able to stop for photos whenever I wanted. The scenery on the way
Bukittinggi
and then the view of the lake from the hill
Lake Maninjau
were more than worth it.
But what I didn’t know at the time was that the way down to the lake is known as “44 curves”, and that the drivers, apparently unimpressed, did not seem to consider overtaking on the curves to be inappropriate. And there I was, on a motorbike, with a big backpack in front of the driver and another bag squeezed in between him and me, trying hard not to fall off the bike on the damn curves and asking the universe and all the cosmic powers to let me keep my life for a bit longer. A memorable experience, I’ll just leave it at that.
When we finally got to our destination, I got settled in a little wooden cottage right in front of the lake, and the first days where incredibly relaxing, with my activities limited to sleeping, eating and swimming in the lake during the day, and in the evenings sitting by a bonfire, while the owners and locals were playing the guitar and singing songs (love songs, of course, it’s Indonesia after all).
Lake Maninjau
Lake Maninjau
Lake Maninjau
Lake Maninjau
At one point though I got really sick, coming down with something resembling stomach flu, which kept me in bed (and in the bathroom) for 2 days, feeling delirious and utterly defeated. Since one of the symptoms was a strong headache, I was worried it might be dengue, and that thought combined with feeling absolutely awful and a possibility of not being able to make it for my flight from Singapore back to Europe in just a few days, were by far the lowest moment of my whole trip. But luckily I recovered pretty soon, and made it back to Padang, from there to Medan, and then to Singapore, Frankfurt, and finally Barcelona.
on the way back from Lake Maninjau
on the way back from Lake Maninjau
