Rub-A-Dub-Dub

At the airport landing strip in Labuan Bajo, Yeni chooses the one tout wearing a tour guide T-shirt. I neither like nor trust him but my body is bad, my spirit beaten and I don't have the will to fight. We've decided to cancel our tickets from Maumere and fly out of Ende instead but this turns into a half day ordeal and, Jack the tour operator, insists on accompanying us. This is very handy but as the day wears on I'm becoming increasingly impatient with the situation and him. I have two goals in Flores: 1) see Komodo dragons 2) See Mount Kelimutu but it's becoming apparent I am going to have to choose.

After endless hours of driving in circles and being told by one airline they fly on Tuesday, another only Thursday then the first one decides they fly only Wednesday, then the second is booked and so on I have reached my limit. My head is pounding, my joints are aching and I'm having flashbacks to Nepal.

"It can be done," Jack assures me. But for a price. He wants $2 million rupiah ($200) to take his boat to Rinca and have us back in time to catch a flight to Ende tomorrow afternoon. This is where I politely thank him and try to say goodbye but when I ask him how much we owe him for the chauffering he cops an attitude, then refuses to take the money. Exasperated I walk away.

I tell Adik I want, no I need, a bowl of soto. I haven't eaten all day and I'm cranky and can't think straight. We duck into a shed and order food from a grisly old woman with a hunch back. The food is terrible and some men there tell us the ferry to Komodo Island is at least 1 million rupiah. We might, they suggest, want to inquire about an ojek .

Back on the street Adik stops to talk an ojek driver and while I stand by wondering why I've never wanted to go to Hawaii say, or Acapulco, an Australian accent behind me says, "Do you need help?"

I turn and look up, way up into a decidedly masculine sunburned face with friendly eyes.

"We're trying," I say with all the patience I can muster, "to figure out a way to see Komodo dragons without paying 2 million rupiah for a tour."

"Well, I'm going down to the docks later this afternoon to talk to the fishermen about renting a boat," he offers.

"Can we tag along? We'll split it with you."

After Adik and I find a hotel with a great view (read: at the top of a hill involving an arduous climb with 13 kilos on my back) we meet up with him at the bar and he shows us his photography. Wild things. Beautiful, fascinating, creepy fantastic wild things. He's a photographer going pro. He likes to hunt snakes and tease crocodiles. He knows far more about ornithology than anyone that good looking should. I like him.

Down at the docks we negotiate a boat to Rinca for 400, 000 rupiah, then sit on the rocks and watch the rats float by.