The whale beach vol.1

I take a wooden boat from Larantuka port, the East end of Flores Island in Indonesia. As the boat speeding up, comfortable sea breeze is coming through the window.
The cabin is not so crowded. The passengers are loosen up everywhere they like for three and half hour trip. As watching them, I notice their feature is slightly different from the one of Bali or Flores where I have been so far. Their features include essence of Melanesian people. It must be true because here is only several hundreds km from the northern coast of Australia.
This is it. It's a very features which I expected in this travel. At first, I planed to visit New Guinea. Although the weather looked really bad. So the second choice was coming up. It's Lembata Island where I'm heading for.

Another boat which has followed now catches up with us. Look at the front deck. It's a full of motos and passengers. The boat is speeding up and we are left behind. Must be going other island. There are many volcanic islands in this area.
I recall the picture of the boat passed by and go to the front deck. Yes, we also have tons of motos, always Indonesian's friends, are there. There are passengers even in operation room. Talking to the captain. When I aim at them with camera, all of them pose for me. Amm...Captain? Are you OK not to watch the front?
The green on the island get close and we arrive to a small port. Leworeba, the entrance of Lembata Island. As soon as I get off, I get busy calls by ojek (moto-taxi) drivers. The moment is always stress to me. So I checked the correct fare in advance. "Take me to the bus terminal for Lamalera" "OK, To Lamalera" "No, I'm not hireling you to get to the village which is 30 km away. To the BUS TERMINAL. Please"

In Larantuka, I was told that there would be Big Bus service from Leworeba on the north coast all through the mid mountain area to the Lamalera on the South coast. However all cars parked in the terminal are actually trucks which cover the rear deck with tin shell. I want to believe they are not the Big Bus. A madam next to me on the bench is also going to Lamalera. She tells me "The bus has not come yet. So wait for a while" Yes, mom. I'll wait like your faithful dog.
Another truck comes into the parking lot and is loaded with cargo. In the crispy sun light, a girl talking to the porter on the tin roof. I gaze at the scene from the shade. It looks a picture of Africa. Suddenly the madam next to me pats my shoulder and say "Let's take it! Come with me" The truck is the big bus as I worried.
The floor which used to be a cargo deck of truck is covered with cement bags. Wood boards hung on the body side. Extra stuff are loaded on the rooftop. Simple benches are lined both side of the cabin. I sit on it and rest my foot carefully on the cement bag. The passengers are diverse from kids to the olds. The girl who talked to the porter in the bus terminal climbed up to the roof top as soon as the bus starts. It was the negotiation. Yeah, rooftop can be more comfortable.

Before long, the truck goes into a mountain path. Dusts flow up from the gravel. The cabin is squeaking. Wood branches are scratching the body. I thought it's under construction, although no change has been happen for more than 20 minutes. Is the main road crossing the island such a gravel all the way?
My head is hardly shook. Even in the tough situation, madams in the cabin are chatting quite normally. A kid who watched me with interest in the beginning is now sleeping. People can adjust to tough environments. Even me who thought I would be sick get used to the situation is same. Actually the truck never speeds up to get sick. It runs in dirt and puddle with bicycle speed. I see lined traffic after our truck through the lifted canvas curtain. Bus, moto, car ... Bus? There is a real bus service.
Traffic is too heavy for the narrow path. The traffic line which is taken by our truck is proceeding on the gravel road in the mountains. In the residential area the gravel changes to the paved road. Small villages in the mountains are beautiful like jewels. An old church, palm trees, small houses ... looks like Jamaican landscape, although I've never been to Jamaica.LoL
Disappointedly the pave peeled off again when we leave the residential area. "Why the infrastructure is so poor while the heavy traffic?" I ask to a passenger. The answer is simple. The government has no money to construct it. In Japan, local governments make a useless road reconstruction every year to run out their annual budgets. Why not give some assistance for the small island in Indonesia to construct the paved roads.