When the Komodo Dragons Aren’t the Main Event
The harbour at Labuan Bajo smells like diesel and salt and, depending which way the wind pushes, grilled fish from…
The harbour at Labuan Bajo smells like diesel and salt and, depending which way the wind pushes, grilled fish from…
The first thing I noticed about Mount Bromo wasn’t the crater or the dawn light or the famous view across…
The first thing I noticed about the road between Ubud and the coast wasn’t the scenery. It was the smell…
We hadn’t planned for the ferry to feel quite so final. That’s the thing about crossing from Bali to Lombok…
The horn sounded at Gilimanuk like a water buffalo clearing its throat — low, patient, entirely unhurried. We had been…
It was a Wednesday in Surabaya, and the air was doing what Surabaya air usually does — thick, warm, carrying…
The humidity hit first, the way it always does at Soekarno-Hatta. It was late morning on a Tuesday in early…
I found the first one by accident, which is usually how it happens. I was trying to shortcut through an…
The road from Yogyakarta to the village of Giriloyo is not a straight line, nor a particularly forgiving one. I…
The heat in Yogyakarta during the dry season doesn’t arrive in waves. It settles. By eleven in the morning, the…