Mr Tarma

Introducing Mr Tarma, who can always be found sitting outside his little shop, watching the world go by or chatting with a few friends. This is a few hundred meters down the road and half way between where I've been and where I'm going and so I have never actually had cause to meet or speak with Tarma up until today.

He always had a serious look about him, never responding to my nods when our eyes met as I drive past him several times a day, kind of unnerving with a 'who do you think you are' sort of look. So I parked my bike and introduced myself and my camera.

How wrong could I be! A charming, distinguished man, more than happy to meet me and chat away. I even captured a few smiles amongst the dozen snaps that I took. Rather than blip the toothy smile, I chose this more serious shot, as it reflected what I saw of him daily, but I decided to put the smile in folio rather than do a composite, as I didn't have enough pixels to make it work with some cropping. Thank's for the blip Mr Tarma.

The Bandung story - part 15

The next day, I was sure that everyone was going to give me sympathy and allow me to relax around the pool, sup a few of Charlie's iced bintangs and just reminisce the events of the weekend, but it was not to be. Geoff had one more event that we had to complete before hitting the road, a boat trip around the peninsula. I voiced my pain and reluctance, but they showed me no sympathy after my weekend of moaning and insisted that a few scratches should not stop me, scratches that are still visible fifteen years later I might add!

We mounted the bikes once more and headed off to the harbor and rented a boat for the trip. The boat 'driver' expressed concerns that the water was a bit on the choppy side today, but nothing was going to stop the Geoffathon from his intrepid boat trip. So off we went.

A bit choppy! It was like rounding the horn in a storm. We had hardly left the protection of the harbor and we were soaked through to the skin. Once passed the reef, things calmed down some, but how I didn't throw up, I will never know. I am just hopeless on boats.

Again, more interesting scenery, coastal erosion sculptures, lots of bamboo fish farms and hundreds of flying foxes were visible, hanging from the tree branches on top of the peninsula, like huge black fruits. As the sun goes down, the giant bats can be seen flying over the village, heading inland. At first, you think seagulls, until one or two pass over at a lower altitude and allow you to see more detail. What an incredible sight, worth the trip on it's own.

The boat arrived at it's destination, the other side of the peninsula, however, the shallow beach meant that we had to wade through the last thirty meters of surf. This did wonders for my bandaged cuts, which renewed their screaming pain with added vigor.

I was thinking we were going to grab some food and a few beers and then the boat trip back. I was right about the food and beers, but the boat trip was replaced by a jungle walk, cutting across the neck of the peninsula, to see the wild deer and the monkeys, just what my aching legs needed. By the time we made it back to the bikes I was close to tears with the pain and frustration, but still no one was getting it.

We paid the bill, loaded up the van and waved goodbye to the hotel staff. I'm sure I saw a tear in Charlie's eye but Mark was in a hurry to get away! Geoff had one more surprise for us on the way back to Bandung, we stopped and purchased a durian fruit, which we all had to have a piece. Just disgusting is the only way to describe the taste, of which I was reminded with every burp for the next three days. Thank's Geoff, a weekend I will never ever forget! Fifteen years on and I still give him grief about it, but it's like water off a duck's back.

To be continued.

Dave