Kupang to Bolok... and back
March 3rd
Friday was the last day of Puasa, or Ramadan, the month of fasting in the muslim lunar calendar.
The next ferry to Ende, in the centre of Flores, where we wanted to go from here, was due to leave on Monday from the port of Bolok about seventeen kilometres east of Kupang. We decided we didn't want to hang around in Kupang for the next three days, so we'd go to Bolok and stay there. I pictured a small ferry port town, like most other ferry ports i've ever been in. Not very exciting, but a bit more interesting in a port sort of way.
We caught a bemo from the bus terminal in the middle of the morning and were the only remaining passengers by the time we got to Bolok. I had that usual feeling of mild anxiety that seems to go with taking public transport to somewhere i've never been before. Is this it? Will they tell me when we get there? Have we gone past it? etc...
At Bolok, the bemo stopped at a t-junction and we got out. We were pretty much in the middle of the countryside. It was very green and there were quite a few trees around, but apart from that, there wasn't very much there. A small shop, just back along the road, a house or two and a hand-full of kids wandering down the side road. That was obviously the way to the port, so that was where we went.
The ferry terminal was near enough deserted. Although there was a ship at the end of the pier, it obviously wasn't going anywhere today. And apart from the terminal, there was a row of hut-like kiosks along the scummy looking beach, but nothing else. Hmmmm.... maybe this wasn't the ideal place to hang around for three days in the wet season.
We sat on the steps of the ticket office and provided something different to look at for a few locals. Then it started raining and we were soon part of a large crowd of mainly boys and men, all sheltering under the eaves of the ferry office. Naturally, they all entertained themselves by looking at us. I guess we must have been pretty amazing, as we kept the attention of most of them for the whole time it rained. At one point, they all moved in to have a closer look when i got a piece of paper out of my bag.
They were friendly and pleasant, but none of them spoke english and our Indonesian was way too rough to attempt any form of conversation. However, they didn't seem to mind, they were just happy to have something a bit unusual to look at for a while.
When it stopped raining, we jumped in a bemo that came down the hill and went back to Kupang.