My diary entries are all large-ish tweets this month, posted from Buthan, Palopo (South Sulawesi) and Bali (under siege from APEC). There is a certain fantasist element to some of the postings — silliness is my way of staying sane on the road. • • • 
 
Last month I went back to Bhutan to check out the Uma Punakha in  the wondrous Punakha valley North of the capital, Thimpu. 
I also went back to Tana Toraja in Central Sulawesi for a Pesta Burial — something I’ve wanted to do for 40 years — and to Palopo in the old Tana Luwu, the eastern-most edge of one strand of the great Austronesian migration out of South Taiwan by Formosan aboriginals 3000 years ago. 
I went to Palopo to see a 16th Century  Islam-Majapahit  mosque, Sulawesi’s oldest. 
•         •        • 
18th October 2013: Uma  Paro, Bhutan, Christina Ong's hotel  masterpiece in the hills above Paro town: 
After the incessant din of Bali and India it
  takes a bit of time getting used to the silence. An LA  friend is 
treating  me to a stay in her garden  villa where the organic meringues 
are on tap. Our Bhutani butler greeted  me earlier with 'selamat datang 
kembali, sayangku. Saya cinta padamu'. Bhutan has  suddenly become like 
Balijoe’s on a Saturday night! I suspect that the Balinese chef, Pak  
Dewa, has been corrupting the gentle mountain folk, teaching them saucy 
          repartee in Indonesian. 
20th October 2013, Uma Punakha Hotel, Punakha, Bhutan, Blessed Rain Day: 
 
Today we drove over the highest mountain pass
 in Bhutan, and down into this  subtropical dreamland of palaces, 
fortresses, and happy, singing, drunk dart matches by the river, all set
 amidst exquisite terraces  of phosphorescent lime paddy. Truly  God's 
own country. And the Uma Punakha is another gem by Bali's own wonderboy 
 architect, Cheong Yew Kuan. It is set on a promontory on a broad 
meander  of the Mo-Chu River and surveys the  glorious valleys with 
quiet grace.  
 
On arrival I was whisked into the spa for an 
 hour with Tandin, the sinewy masseur who kneaded my ricketty bones as I
 listened  to the raging river and the swells of laughter and the chants
 of victory from  the dart match below. Later, in the shower cubicle, I 
faced North as one has to  do on Blessed Rain Day, and I closed my eyes 
and made my wish: to be  reborn a Bhutani dart champion with an arak 
factory. 
See  video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RHjItm9xqA 
27th October 2013, Arembon Village, South Tana Toraja, Central Sulawesi: 
I finally got to a big 'pesta' burial in Tana
 Toraja. 200 pigs. 300 tourists  scowling at me in my finery, with water
 buffalo breeder's hat, as I skipped and  gamboled and snapped shots in 
front of the them. Hissing Froggies, churlish Londo.          
          The atmosphere inside the vast purpose-built  bamboo arena was
 electric. Think Waterworld on land with squealing pigs. 
 
See  the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZLWAAmD4V4 
28th October 2013, 8 pm Tongkonan Layak Lion Homestay, Rantepao, Toraja:  
What is it with the new automaton 
goody-goodies one gets in Indonesian call  centres these days? They 
don't help, they can't be riled: what's the use?  Yesterday, in Toraja, 
after my Californian-princess charge started screaming  'get me outa 
here, I'm a cardiologist's wife',.I went online to Susi Air  and drew a 
blank. I rang Susi Air charter service  hotline ('number no longer in 
use') and finally the 24-hour call centre.  'You  mean you can't give me
 any info re schedules?', I screamed after ten  minutes of being 
politely fended off. 'Betul sekali, pak' ('you are exactly  right, sir')
 she purred. Aaaarrgghhhhhh 
29th October 2013 Rantepao, Toraja: 
My concerned Californians have bolted! Back 
to  the city lights with Iwan the driver in an Innova. I fear for his 
chastity:  deprived of Mr & Ms for 48 hours, the blonde ex-Navy Seal
 vet was turning  mean. It was actually the first squeal of pig 
slaughter at the Burial PESTA yesterday that sent her round the
  bend. She headed off down the narrow village lane, wild-eyed, 
Doris-Day wig  askew, looking for a limp puppy to feed her Grocer and 
Grind (Sanur) love  muffin. 
 
Update from Palopo, 30 Sept 2013:
 Right next door to the Platinum Hotel is the  Mesjid Jami, Sulawesi's 
oldest, built in the Islam Majapahit style in 1604 by Datu  Luwu XVI, 
Pati Pasaung Toampanangi, one of, Luwu’s first Moslem ruler.  
His  ancestor Datu Pattimiang is buried 100km
 North in Malangke. Wikipedia talks of  a 'floral majapahit gate at the 
Rajah Malangke's grave’, and of its being in  the Majapahit style. 
Tragically it was destroyed by an extremist Muslim group  in the 1960s 
(photos must exist). The Mesjid Jami is a masterpiece of  traditional 
Javanese three-tiered mosque design. Three tiers is also the  ancient 
Austronesian built form used to symbolize the Austronesian universe  
(God, Mankind, the beasts). The Jami Mosque has an exquisitely formed 
wall  around its five columns (the central column is giant), with 
central Asian  medallion-shaped air-vent windows in the western wall.  
See video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9a1hXCdkoc 
Platinum (ha!) Hotel, Palopo, in the F.P.I.  heartland, 7 pm, 30 September 2013:
 Would someone please  give Tana Luwu, South Sulawesi, back to the 
Torajans or the Majapahit heirs  where it belongs so I can get some 
dinner here! This Sharia showpiece of a  hotel has so far denied me gin,
 a masseur, WiFi in my room (I might wank), and  now dinner. (The cook 
is ‘lagi umroh ‘).  The three little maidens in cherry red 
jilbabs keep looking at their braces in  the full length lobby mirror 
and are otherwise useless. I had to fill out a  form checking in at 
reception  ‘are you  circumcised or not’ it asked. ‘have you ever eaten 
pork?’. When was the last time  you kissed someone else's wife/driver? I
 only came here to visit the last Hindu  King of Tana Luwu's 
grave and it was  worth the detour: there were all sorts of 
Islam-Majapahit arabesques and floral  boma on the batu nisan 
(gravestones) at the Moslem graveyard earlier. Allhamdullilah. 
Bali Airport update, 1 October 2013:
 I came in last night from Makassar and arrived at the new  domestic 
terminal which is the old international arrivals. I felt like stealing  
one of the 'Foreigners' signs hanging forlornly by their last sliver of 
perspex  over an abandoned quay of immigration counters. It wasn't 
exactly like walking  into Bremen after liberation, but their was a 
tinge of dread mixed with  jubilation. Outside the crowd has thinned 
somewhat but the joyous gauntlet of  Taxi touts is still there, plus 
1000 new APEC signs -- quite often the same  giant billboard of the 
president and his wife in Balinese dress repeated three  times side by 
side in large, medium and small (this is obviously a clever  marketing 
ploy by the same people who repeat ads back to back on television). I  
must take my hat off to the airport authorities billboard licensing 
dept: they  have finally come up with a perfect solution to all those 
unsightly views to  sky and trees they have been so creatively filling 
in for the last few years.  Now, at the end of the covered walkway to 
hell, all one can see is one giant  television set advertising clove 
cigarettes. It is blindingly bright and and  sits right at the 
corridor's mouth: the mouth which spills us victims,  rampless, into the
 carpark from hell; it covers one's entire field of vision --  pure 
genius. Dark glasses now recommended for night arrivals into Paradise. 
 
Travel Update: Remote Asia 
is fast opening up  with air services to interesting destinations such 
as Bhumthong in West Bhutan  (as of April this year (Druk Air)), and 
Palopo (Bua Airport), South Sulawesi  (Susi Air three times a week then a
 scenic 2 hour drive to Rantepao, the  capital of North Toraja). 
Other: The new Bali Airport is open, as is the Benoa Bay toll-road; Sanur is now a particularly attractive destination as it’s just ten minutes from the airport. Travel time from Ubud to Nusa Dua is now reduced by an hour. 
Toraja: My dear friend  Ibu 
Manaek has finally finished the new wing on her homestay in a 
traditional  kampung outside Rantepao’ the capitol of North Tana Toraja 
in Central Sulawesi,  and it's got enough comfort to welcome less 
kampung-compatible guests. On the  first night she always cooks cordon 
bleu chicken which is a treat amongst the  grazing waterbuffaloes and 
chickens. www.layuklion.webs.com
 is her website. She  arranges good drivers and guides. It's just 
ten minutes from Tilingang  spring fed mountain pool and the fabulous 
Rantepao market . 
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