From Malacca we boarded a ferry for our gateway to Indonesia. The vessel should have been coined The Antarctica. We should have known something was up when locals showed up in down jackets. After 120 teeth chattering minutes we arrived at our Indonesian port of entry: Dumai, an oil port in the Straits of Malacca complete with rainbow oil stained water and floating fish It's as industrial as a town can get. Picture Houston in the 50’s without the groovy lucite.

Originally, we were making our way to the Mentawii Islands, which boasts local tribesman who are fully tattooed and file their teeth to sharp points. When I found out they also boast a local malaria rate of 50% we nixed that idea and shifted our compasses towards Lake Toba, South East Asia’s largest lake (1707 sq. km) and remnants of an eruption so great that the volcano actually collapsed into itself. Luckily, this all happened around 100,000 years ago and it has cooled enough for a few resorts to pop up on its shores. This area is also known for its unique Batak architecture. To get to Tuk Tuk, a village on the island of Samosir in the middle of the lake, we had to take a bus to Parapat on the lakes shores. As the bus crested the volcano’s edge we were treated to a spectacular view of the lake. Our arrival in town was marked by a torrential burst of rain, but it didn’t stop the hustle and bustle of the weekly Sunday market. We met Harry, a tout on the boat. We had already decided to stay at the hotel he was pushing, but we led him to believe he convinced us.

We rented a motorbike to tour the island. The first stop was Ambarita where 500 years ago the local government council was seated. Literally, there are stone seats where village matters were decided and the fate of wrongdoers was sealed only for them to be led to the executioners block where they were decapitated and their remains were lunched upon. Our guide was part of the royal family, as were the rest of Ambarita, I presume. He continually assured me that Homo Sapien was no longer a dietary suppliment for the tribe.

Next, we boosted over to Simanindo to see some royal dwellings of days gone bye and catch a performance of traditional Batak (local tribespeople) dancers, who’s enthusiasm for the art had waned a bit. Naturally, they picked the tall white guy to humiliate…I tried to dance without biting my lower lip. At the end of the ceremony they all patted me on the back as if I’d done a job well, but they were also patting the symbolic sacrificial cow as well. I left concerned that they married me to the water buffalo as a joke. Another kind of creepy thing was that the son of one of these kings died as a boy so the emperor had his child's likeness carved of wood and introduced it/him as his son. I think I saw that once on an Addams Family episode. I swear I'm not making this up, my imagination is not that, um, inexplicable. And after all this, the main dancer pulled out a huge stick and proceeded to, and again I'm not making this up, do something that looked curiously like a James Brown impression. Yes, I left scratching my head. But you'll be happy to know my new wife and I are doing just fine.

The rest of the day was spent, as Helen calls it,"just pootling about."

The Hotel Tabo is a beautiful, well run, clean, and reasonably priced lodge on the lakes shore. They also have hot water. Annette, the owner, is a vegetarian so we had a huge menu to choose from and being German, she made sure there was always a lot of freshly baked yummies coming out of the oven. They also have 4 dogs and after 3 months of cats on Tioman it was nice to wrestle with something that wouldn't scratch my eyes out. It was a real pleasure to stay there.