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Sampai ketemu Lagi!

( On the road passing another impressive mosque)

( Local kids sneaking a peak at the rare white man )

( The humble abode of Seki )

The last few days have been cruisy then hectic, spontanious and memorable.
We were not only blessed with a perfect mix of swell and wind - the only remaining surfers seemed to disappear leaving the waves eerily empty. Many yews n yelps, reef cuts, tubes and exhausted sighs of satisfaction later - we were on our way back to Bandar Lampung.

We were so lucky because we got to visit the humble little villages where Okta and Pak Rama lived.
( Local people came from around the village to observe us...)

Every time we were warmly welcomed into their homes and offered coffee, cigarettes and fried tofu, rice and all sorts of delicious sides. It seemed like most of the people had never seen Westerners before and we always attracted a lot of attention.
One really interesting visit was to Pak Ramas older brothers village. His family made a living from performing comedy, music, drama and shadow puppetry at parties and ceremonies. He showed us this 300 year old mask that had been passed through the generations - and performed a traditional dance! All the kids in the village seemed to be trying to sneak a peak of us as we sat in the old house. I felt really humbled by the experience and it left me with a really warm feeling of the Indonesian people I had encountered in Sumatra...

The experience that followed however was far from fun...

( The people of Paradise )

After 4 delays in Lampung we arrived in Jakarta and missed our flight to Bali and spent hours at the deserted airport trying to get another flight. We eventually found one 3 days away on Saturday! With no where to go we jumped in a jeep with a cheery lad from Padang and proceeded to head south to Bogor. By 4am we were squatting in a warung drinking coffee and wine with a bunch of confused locals watching the Barcelona Manchester game. After we couldnt keep our eyes open and longer, we wearily scoped a hotel and crashed deeply until the muggy Javanese heat woke me up in a pool of sweat at 10:30.
Seki - the cheery Sumatran who drove us to Bogor - inivted us to his cosy little abode where we ate delicious Kalap fruit and drank coffee and talked with the women about Western lifestyles and mentalities compared to that of the villagers of Indonesia. It was a great session and I really felt I connected with people who I had absolutely nothing in common with. Seki's home was about 7m by 4ms in total - hes proudest possessions were his badminton set, his foreign currency note collection and pictures of his family scattered through the archipelago - yet he was the happiest man around!

( hati - hati )

I could easily look on these last couple days as a huge annoyance - being stuck in a noisy polluted city when I should be relaxing on a Balinese beach - though I would change anything that has happened. These are the spontaneous events that make a trip an adventure...

Sumatra

( solitude)

Observing peoples relaxed attitudes and actions around these parts - I've come to the conclusion that South Sumatrans live fairly happy, stress free lives. The community operates so differently to our own - it's almost not comparable. It's like every character - the kids at school to the ojek drivers - play an important part in the societies of little villages that line the streets. Everyone seems to interact, work , talk to, bump into or trade with each other at some point during the day - keeping everyone as one big family.

As I cruise north to surf every morning - there's always a new marque set up somewhere for some kind of party and all the locals descend in their best batik threads - looking a million bux (not rupiah)!
As there are no footpaths - the sides of the street are constantly occupied by children coming to and from school - most of them see you coming and wave energetically screaming "HELLO MISTERRRRR!!!"
Yesterday I surfed a reef while Iu stayed on the beach talking to some kids - when I got back from the surf he had this huge gang of kids as an audience as he performed various basic magic tricks. When I came up the beach they ran over screaming "Camilon, Amilon, Amiton" - "Hamilton" I said. Then then proceeded to ask the routine questions like where I was from, if I was married, how I speak Bahassa, do I have a family and so on and so on... I told them about Catalina from Argentina and they all started giggling saying that I was going to kiss Catalina in Argentina - then made a little song about it! These kids were pretty cool and they all ran after us when we left.

( kids in Liwa )

( desert at base camp )

Sumatra lagi

Over the last few days Iu and myself have really got into the groove of the ocean. Our movements are dictated by the winds and tides. Time is irrelevant, the days are unmarked by names and life just seems so simple!
We wake up with the roosters - surf our fill, eat, surf again - eat again. Then it's time for some quiet reading followed by a siesta - followed by another surf. Luckily I'm keeping stingy company so even a nightly Bintang is a special occasion, and usually I'm in bed by 8:30 anyway.

le
( out front...)

( out front...)

When the swell picked up a little - we ventured south for an exploratory mission. We saw so many crazy set ups and ended up surfing a sketchy shallow a - frame with an audience of noisy monkey in the dunes.
As we zipped down every little beach entrance - we saw so much Indonesian culture in its rawest form. One little beach community was undertaking some kind of ceremonial slaughter while we checked the surf. All the men of the village were taking part, cutting and slicing with cigarettes clamped in the corners of their mouths. One of the men proceeded to cut off a little teet from a dead goat and put it on Iu's chest - and the whole crowd erupted in laughter. It was funny in a kind of twisted way - though in these situations you just have to go with it!

A day in Paradise

( Typical afternoon showers in the mountains, with smoke from locals cooking or burning rubbish )

( Haji and Saffira at the Camp )

Back sitting on the floor of the white tiled internet cafe - I feel hot, exhausted and eternally stoked. I was woken this morning before dawn by the only other guy at the surf camp - Iu - from Spain. We picked our way over the reef, speaking in Spanglish, then proceeded to devour perfect deserted lefts. After a brekky and coffee at the surf camp - we scooted up to another deserted beach - with little school kids running along and holding their hands out to be high fived screaming "Hello misteeeeeer!"

( "Chuck Norris" is our go - to guy )

Weaving through the huge palm trees running behind the beach - I started to think about falling coconuts so I drove along looking to the trees - then whooooooaaaaa!!! I swerved off the track into a ditch narrowly missing an unfazed big Brahman cow! I was still adjusting back into the Indo state of mind while driving - taking it all in, just cruising...

( Debriefing the days waves out front )

Parking amongst the Palm trees and excitedly sprinting down onto the hot sand, we were greeted with the most rippable crumbling a - frame suck bowl I've ever seen - and my new board "MARIA" loved it. We just took wave after wave hooting and screaming till our bodies couldn't handle anymore.
After the dream session, we cruised into the local markets to buy a kilo or two of mangoes ( 1kg = app 80c! ). The markets were lined with all sorts of hanging fish and octopuses and cuttlefish and you name it! We drove to the fruit section and bought a bunch of fresh tropical fruit laughing with the ladies in veils - as we were a novelty and our normal body language and movements appeared to seem awkward and hilarious to them.

SUMATRA

( My humble abode...)

YEEEEW - I've finally made it to the mystical Sumatra!!!
After touching down in Jakarta I cruised out of the airport with a massive smile on my face and jumped straight into a taxi headed for Bills place. Despite crawling through traffic for 3 hours - I was still frothing and as soon as I arrived we downed a cocktail and hit the town. We had an epic night out in Jakarta with a perfect 'Stadium' ending before speeding back home and jumping straight in another cab to the domestic airport. Weaving through traffic dodging rickshaws, trucks, fruit carts, scooters and other sorts of strange makeshift vehicles - I just made check - in then casually strolled through straight onto the dodgy little Sumatra bound aircraft.

Sunset lefts welcoming me out the front

Touching down I really felt the adventure unfolding around of me. The airport is surrounded by volcanic mountains, the air is thick and tropical and I feel like the only 'bule" within 100s of kilometers. I dragged my boards through the tiny airport and haggled a driver to get me to the bus terminal. Whilst speaking Indonesian to some Sumatran university students on the plane and then to the taxi driver from the airport - it was like a part of my brain was re-activated and all of the sudden I could speak Indo again! I was really stoked because after learning Spanish - I could barely string a sentence together - though now - I feel almost fluent again.

By the time I got to the bus terminal I felt like a zombie and was looking forward to sleeping the 7 hour trip to Krui - but I really shouldn't have got my hopes up... The bus had NO suspension and everytime we hit a big pot hole or wash out - I was thrown into the window bars , rudely awaking me - fortifying my hangover and giving me another egg. The trip dragged on and on until all of a sudden I woke up on my seatmates shoulder looking out through palm trees into a glassy ocean with fun empty waves blessing the shore...The old conductor tapped me and said " Kamu turun di sini mas!" (You get off here mate!)...Paradise...

HAM'S BACK ON THE HIGHWAY

Its been a turbulent last few days trying to get into the air and back on the highway in the sky. As Mum said - bad things happen in threes - and she was rite - again!
1 - I found myself missing a flight waiting for a passport sitting stagnantly in the uncontactable Indonesian Consulate in Sydney. Mum eventually tracked it down for me and I had to cough up $340 to get a next flight courier to make this Friday flight.
2 - After getting freaky on Saturday night for Halloween at Jimmy Chylls place - my wallet was left with my shoes (who needs em!) amongst bottles and spray cans - resulting in 3 or four days stressing about my lost hip companion…
3 - After FINALLY peacing out - my tyre blew out in spectacular fashion at 120km/h driving towards the Goldy airport!

As I'm writing this in the departure lounge of Cooly airport - I look around at chattering Javanese families with chubby kids, women in neat Muslim veils, a few typical Bali party goers with shit tattoos - and a mixed bag of other travelers - young and old. I haven't been to Indonesia for over a year, Java for over two years and this will be my maiden voyage to the mystical Sumatra. All my recent travel memories are peppered with Spanish phrases, meat and tortilla dishes and long cross country drives. Though I know when I step out into the muggy heat and hear that constant noise that is Jakarta - de-ja-vu will sweep my mental. Im just really keen to sit on a little blue plastic stool a street warung laughing with the Ibu, pondering a pungent and colourful nasi campur with a side of djagung and sambal. It will be followed by a glass teh botol and rokok kretek for my stinging lips.
Yes - I'm back in the zone...

During the passport uncertainty I did face the option the option of calling off the trip and continuing my well paid job as a chippy labourer - it seemed desirable to have more savings for when I return to Argentina in february. But I remembered how the best and most exciting times Iv experienced are when Iv been waltzing with bankruptcy!
Ill be damned if Im mixing concete when I can legitimately afford to e max chilling on equatorial jungle fringed beaches surfing fun reef runners all day!

The dream job!

I have been vandalising social network pages trying to get people to look and like my youtube application video for my an amazing job as a travelling video blogger for Monthly Catch.
Check it out and show your support by liking it and sharing it on your Facebook and Twitter - Muchos Gracias!!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iW56-MOp_0

It was sad leaving Catalina and her beautiful family in Buenos Aires though I felt confident I would be passing through BA again soon. They generousy put me up for two months and treated me like a (spoilt) son, always keen to show me the unique tastes and experiences of the city, I will be forever grateful. I was also really excited about catching up with Willy in LA, hiring an SUV and hitting Southern California (SoCal) again...

Home via Cally

After our crazy, spontanious time Chapadmalal we cruised up to the huge coastal city of Mar Del Plata. After spending the afternoon riding horses on the deserted beaches near El Russo´s farm - the dark and dirty streets of the city seemed quite the contrast. We met a lad from couchsurfing named Lucas who generously welcomed us into his cosy abode and shared rattling tales from the frontline of his job as an Argentinian paramedic.
That night we met up with some of El Russo´s crazy local crew and had an AWESOME night out which consisted (amongst many other things) of cruising from club to club the back of a huge military vehicle and stomping it out at a pumping local Cumbia club.
A chilly afternoon surf in Argentina
Talking Latin politics on our steeds at the beach - as ya do...

The eccentric El Russo enjoying the hammock I donated. I bought this for $5 on the border of Nicaragua and decided to hand it over after finding out about how much of Russo's furniture was lost when his house was mysteriously burnt down.

Our luxurious abode until it got too cold and El Russo put us up in the caravan...
Morning mate




I had such a crazy, outrageous, warming time at the ranch of El Russo with Cata and Russo's girlfriend Luciana, I would almost call it a life changing experience. Staying and connecting with truly Argentinian strangers with amazing life stories really felt like traveling in its purest form. El Russo had this crazy in-your-face energy, he spoke in Spanish phrases and expressions and just wanted to seize every moment and take it for a ride. I will miss his humble silo and caravan though Cata and I plan to return and silo sit for him next year as he won't leave for trips to the city without having someone at home.

Over the few days I got to know El Russo, I discovered his sea change story hadn't been as breezy as the coastal cliffs of Chapadmalal. His story told of heartbreak and loss which came to a pinnacle when his self built house with all his musical equipment and memorabilia was mysteriously burnt to ashes while he was away in Buenos Aires. He explained how some country folk took him in and calmed his fuming mind before he proceeded to work alone and shirtless through the freezing winter weathering frigid rain and sleet building a new life - which is his current silo made home.




We jammin!



I managed to borrow an old board from a neighbour and before long I was finally surfing th great Atlantic Ocean. I got some really fun waves in the glowing light blue then retired back to El Russo's settlement and hung around the warm fire. El Russo's love of music soon became obvious as after dinner we were drinking Argentine wine smashing out tunes with a full drum kit, numerous types of African drums, a guitar, bass and amp and a couple of acoustics at our disposal. We played as loud and as passionately as we could till the early hours of the morning before passing out in our tent with ears ringing.

Searching for El Russo...

Heading to check the surf on Estrella...


During a late drinking session at a remote beach in Northern Uruguay, a couple of New Yorker surfers told me about their experience with the mysterious El Russo of Chapadmalal. El Russo was a Buenos Aires city slicker who deflected down to the sleepy coastal town of Chapadmalal to escape the hustle and live as a free spirit. I was told that traveling surfers and musicians are welcomed by El Russo who lives in a silo. When asked how I could contact him they just told me to rock up and ask around till someone knows him. After telling the adventure loving Catalina this tale, we took a second then our fate was decided - we were going to search for the mysterious El Russo in the Easter holidays...

We boarded an overnight 8 hour bus at the packed terminal and woke up at the coastal city of Mar Del Plata. We then sleepily jumped on a smaller bus that took us another hour south and dropped us off in the tiny town of Chapadmalal at the awkward time of sunrise. We asked an old couple about El Russo, they said they had never heard of him though kindly offered a place at their place. We almost accepted the offer before a young local lad eavesdropping exclaimed in Spanish " Hey I know El Russo, Vamos!".
After driving through some lonely fields a few kms back from the beach we stopped to talk to this eclectic looking guy in his 30's wearing reggae pants, sporting short black hair with a mullet of dreadlocks walking a dinosaur of a dog. Apparently this was they guy - so I got out, introduced myself (he spoke no English) and before we knew it we were warmly welcomed into his silo and he was preparing a couple of fine steeds for an afternoon ride to check the surf...