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Published: April 18th 2012
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On how many levels does a journey exist? Is the journey sometimes a destination unknown or unexpected?
Ive spent my adult life watching for the Oh Not Again! Disapproving face my mother would pull every time I would casually mention I was going diving..in a couple of days..in papua new guinea. I wanted to show my mum the side of me that comes alive when I am travelling and diving, a new world to explore, where I feel my best. I wanted her to understand why I travelled alone to parts far flung and on the Smart Traveller website as reconsider need to travel. So, I took her to Cubadak. A tiny island off the west coast of Padang in Sumatra. On that ohh so sexy Sundra Arc (You will have to excuse the geomorphologist im me). Remote, difficult to get to, you are going where? type places that I wanted to share with her. She has travelled to the US, Europe, Singapore, HK and had been to Bali about 14 years ago so she does know one end of an aircraft from the other, flying with her is a whole other blog in its own right. But she has
never been anywhere..intrepid. I believe we all have a brave bone, just some of us never bother trying it out. The trip to Cubadak is in many ways one that requires you to pull out your brave bone and place your trust in your instinct and throw yourself into the void.
Arriving in Padang I saw our driver from the resort waiting for us with a sign as she asked if I was sure someone would be there to help us. Yes Mum, there he is, with a nice shiny new vehicle and in with our bags and off to Cubadak we headed. But first we had to stop and get eggs and water. The driver made it very clear he wanted us to stay in the vehicle, which was perfectly fine by me. Then we had to pick up some paperwork for the island from another office. Mums eyes are wide and she is taking in the downtown typical indo port city scenery and I am photographing quake damage from the 2009 quake, a subject I havent actually breifed her on yet, but will later apparently.
As we begin the climb up out of downtown and into
the mountains I turn and look at her and say "Guess you're not in Kansas Dorothy anymore"...she half smiles, agrees and says.."Where the hell are you taking me?"
Indonesian roads are always awkward. If its not volcanos, its mountains or lakes or roaring rivers that require lots of twisting and turning. The roads are always potholed and are always wearing out as fast as they are replaced, so the journey is interesting. We left the hotel at 3am and are both starting to get tired as we climb up through the mountains and she suddenly exclaims "Monkeys!" and there are, everywhere, long tailed macaques just chiling by the side of the road. We chat about how the monkeys, deer, cows, dogs and other assorted livestock learn pretty quickly to not become roadkill. She makes astute observations about lack of roadkill and likely scenes of recent traffic crashes. Interpol should employ her, she could solve any crime. I reassure her a few times that this is a pretty good road really compared to Sulawesi and that to just trust the driver because they know what they are doing. But shes pretty chilled and is taking in the scenery and marvelling
at the cliff covered with wild orchids and ferns on one side of the narrow windy road and the raging river and rapids down below us. Im knackered and fall asleep for about half an hour and wake as we come down through the mountains into the port of Corococ.
The harbour is filled with beautiful traditional fishing boats and we are greeted by Frederika who owns the resort with her husband and another couple. We hop into a speedboat and in a few short minutes are zooming towards paradise.
This a seriously beautiful part of the world. I dont know why but it reminds me of Gilligans Island. Mums face was awesome. Tired and exhausted after a long haul she was looking around in wonder as we were helped onto the peir at Cubadak. We were instantly given a huge lunch while Nanni checked us in and our baggage was all taken across to the cute little bungalow. Reflecting the traditional architecture around this province the cabins were basic but beautiful. Glass wasnt needed in the windows, they simply had screens to keep out the insects and allow natural airflow. Everything here is natural, including the water,
certified by the EU as drinking standard from a spring up on the mountain behind the resort area. But there is also 24 hour electricity and wifi available in the restaurant area and the bar area on the peir.
We explored the bungalow and I instantly remembered my dads words when he saw pictures of inside the bungalow..DONT Let your mother fall down there!!. Stairs would be going a little too far in describing access to the bed, more a ladder up to a reasonably comfy bed in the loft of the bungalow below a thatched roof. I grew to dread mum going up and down there at night because she likes to sleep with the lights out...Id lie there hoping not to hear a thud!. Ironically the only one who came close to falling down the ladder was me.
So how do you teach someone to relax?. That its alright to do nothing. To care not. To just simply be.
She spent the first day manically doing things. All sorts of things. The only sorts of things you can do on remote islands. Kayaking up the beach to a mangrove with a reasonably salvageable looking abandoned
pleasure boat. Walking around, exploring the gardens. Marvelling at the staghorns and elkhorns. Up and down the beach in between meals. I hadnt thought that to do absolutely nothing may not be that easy for other people. I had prepared before I left, with a novel by Kathy Lette on the E Reader for her and 4 new release DVDs (Including Open Water) on the IPad and had downloaded quite a few albums of artists we both enjoyed. I can dig listening to the Eagles and she's cool with Tracey Chapman and Powderfinger.
I went for a dive the next day then paddled up to a little beach near the mangroves with her to try and teach her how to snorkel. She is just not a snorkeller and we both laughed and talked for hours just sitting in the calm warm water up to our waists taking in the view of the mountains and the ocean. I got to know my mum on a very different level than I had expected, and I think she would say the same. I learned she doesnt share figs with my dad and will hide them in her own secret fridge, she loves
routine and her body clock is set to stupid a.m.
She learned that I sleep like I am ready for embalming. I dont know when I took to sleeping like this but i must pull the blanket over my head and tuck myself into it like a shroud which she found rather disconcerting at first and I can understand why. Apparently I also snore, put sand in the bed, am messy and get really frizzy hair in the tropics.
As the days went on she would start hanging on island time, reading, lying on the sunbed infront of the ocean every now and then getting up and going for a dip. I spent most of the time with her walking and talking and kayaking and found shes actually really good at paddling. And she cheats at scrabble.
On the third day I went for a dive around 3, a beautiful big eagle soaring over the boat as we made our way to a sponge dive sight which turned up to be really unusual. The plankton rich waters needed for the sponges didnt make for the best viz but this site had a real diversity of terrain. From
a bit of a wall with some caves and overhangs guaranteed to bring out a divers curiosity down to a drop off then a bit of a muck dive rubble area with soft corals and a suprising diversity of aquatic life.
Marco my dive guide was playing with an octopus and I had my head inside a barrel sponge looking at a cute shrimp when the 8.6 quake hit.
And we didnt feel a thing.
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Home and Away
Bob Carlsen
Well, I guess this answers your "Travel with your...Mother" forum concerns...
I t sounds like a perfect vacation getting to know each other. I'm looking forward to you further posts...