Monday, April 23, 2007
With its explosive political (and geological) past, tourism in Indonesia has plummeted. All the more reason to visit these magical lands. Jessica Morris goes west of Java
Two hands slam down on my shoulders from behind and Udin, our guide, yells " Run!" We are in the rainforest of northern Sumatra, supposedly on the hunt for orang-utans, but the tables have turned: the orang-utans are on the hunt for us, and our dinner. I am not what you might call the sporty type, but I scarcely pause when the ground rises vertically in front of me. I hoist myself up a cliff face with the aid of liana vines while nearby, just above the sound of my heartbeat, I can hear our pursuers swinging effortlessly from tree to tree.
In Sumatra, if you want to meet an orang-utan, you head to the village of Bukit Lawang. Many of the apes here are only semi-wild, although they live in the forest. It doesn't take long for Udin to find Edith and introduce us to her. No wildlife documentary can convey the charm of seeing her reach lazily with her left foot to take a piece of fruit from the ground and then, stretching her right foot around behind her head up to an overhanging branch, swing off to enjoy her snack upside down. It's only when the more aggressive Mina and two wild males appear that things go banana-shaped. But at camp that evening the adventure has bonded trekkers and guides.
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