Banda islands

We left Ambon early boarding our 10 person 30 year old plane to the Banda Islands. We boarded once but were soon asked to return to the waiting room as one of the propellers wasn?t working correctly and this did not inspire my confidence or quell my anxiety at all about the flight. When we finally re-boarded and took off the experience was slightly terrifying, but I soon mellowed out. Flying over the immensity blue calm of the Banda Sea put my fears at ease looking out the window. It was glassy calm and translucent as a mirror.

Eventually through the scratched port hole windows the tiny shapes of distant islands appeared on the horizon -- these are the Bandas, sometimes also known as the Spice Islands. The volcanic cone of gunung api rises from the center of this tiny archipelago to meet us draped in misty clouds. As we descended we passed over small dugout fishing boats in the bay and the shaggy manes of coconut palms fringing the teeny runway, barely big enough for this small plane. I thanked my stars for a safe arrival and soon was was on the back of a motorcycle on my way into the village. We passed through lazy backstreets draped in bouganvilla and frangipani sped while crumbling facades of ancient Dutch fortresses and iron-wrought balconies whisked by.

I've decided to stay at the family guesthouse of Allan, the head man of Banda Neira village. Vita, his place is simple and beautiful looking out on the harbor and the cone of gunung api rising over the island. It is still early morning and we breakfasted around the table with the two other travelers there -- Hannah, a gorgeous Swedish girl on holiday and an older Canadian gentleman visiting for a few weeks. The whole place is shrouded in palms and tropical plants and bounded only by the turquoise water of the bay. As we ate a sudden squall came up blowing cool rain, whisking the islands clean.

I have bent all my energy on this trip to getting to this hard to reach fabled place and now I can relax and soak it in, satisfied. And so I did. I rested and then walked around the village and took pictures at the fish market. There are bonita tuna, snappers, and multi colored reef fish all lined up in front of the water. Cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, chillies, limes and local vegetables all line the benches.

Before the night came Kevin, Hannah, and I went out with Allan to snorkel a nearby reef at the base of the lava flow. The boat pitched and rocked as swells rolled in off the open sea beyeond. Below the water was a rainbow of corals on the edge of a blackened lava flow vomited from the volcano. Angel fish, flute fish, trigger fish, and parrot fish all bob with the current. Hannah grabbed me to point to a reef shark in the inky blue at the edge of the reef drop off and then we climbed in with the twilight and headed back.

That night I had a lavish dinner with Hannah and Kevin at a place called Mutiarrah run by Abba one of the local orang kaya, or rich men - an entrepeural pearl merchant. It was too much! A whole snapper, eggplants in kenari almond sauce, fried octopus, stir fried vegetables, and stuffed avocados. What a night with such great people. We smiled and drank beers with full bellies out back under the nutmeg trees in the Banda Neira moonlight. Pure magic.