We boarded the 5.55am flight to witness the sunrise pour
golden light over waking Jakarta. As we neared the Sumatran mainland the silhouettes
of volcanoes littered the horizon. We touched down in Medan at around 8am, a
very different world from the countries capital we had just left. Once again
having not slept last night, we hurried to meet our driver who was set to take
us to Toba.
Our driver turned up in a bright orange Hawaiian shirt,
rocking a pair of respectable shades. He seemed very enthusiastic to talk to us
but the language barrier kept our conversations very limited. He told us that
he lived at Toba and he was a Batak, (the tribe native to the island, used to
be cannibals but now faithful Christians). He took us to a local homestay for
breakfast in which we enjoyed banana pancakes and the famous Sumatran coffee.
Banana pancakes were 10,000rp (70p).
After 5 hours and a numb rear end, it wasn't only the
roadside monkeys that starred as we approached Lake Toba. The occupants of the
lazy cafes and bars chorus’s "horas" and many shook our hands. Horus means
welcome to the Batak people, as well as many other things. We caught the next
ferry over to Tuk Tuk village in which dropped us to where we were to stay,
Begas Bay, a collection of cottages and traditional Batak house.
Sleep deprived, we chugged towards the jetty, and we dodged
naked Batak children as they ran the length of the pier, launching themselves
into the lake. Chickens fled as our new friend Saba described the various
fruits growing around us. Cocoa, coffee, pineapples and coconuts lined the path
as we walked.
Our room was the bottom floor of the elegant Batak house
seated directly in front of the lake. Bronzed travellers lounged around the bar
area playing cards, chess or simply just chatting, filling the bar with a
variety of accents and dialogues.
Myself and our driver Acen
Our room in the Batak house on Toba
The Batak house we stayed in
Parapat Port
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