This evening we ate at the restaurant next door. This doesn’t sound very peculiar, but I’m at a loss to understand what it’s even doing there. Lemme explain…
Our hotel has six rooms and lies 3 kms out of town, on a dusty road with nought but shacks and banana plantations on either side. There is one more hotel another half kilometre further on, and another almost two kilometres back towards town. That’s it.
But just a few yards along the road from us is a restaurant with a lovely outdoor dining room, attractive décor and a very long menu of mostly western dishes with a few local ones thrown in. These included extravagantly imported beef and even mango juice*. The prices are high enough that no local is ever going to come here, and we were entirely alone apart from a big tokay gecko with the vocal capabilities of Pavarotti who serenaded us from the rafters.
It will have to remain a mystery. I like mysteries. In other news, we enjoyed a long swim in the hotel pool today and went for a two hour boat ride along the local river, which was pleasant and showed up lots of interesting bird life including some huge kingfishers. We passed local fishermen and a truly atrocious hotel that should never have been built. Tomorrow we quest for dragons…
* – mangos are out of season, we know this because Maureen and Vanessa ask for mango juice at every restaurant and cafe we’ve visited in Bali or Flores, and are always told it isn’t available.
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