This months meeting took place at another new venue, The Dragon Hall in Stukeley Street. Despite the change of venue the meeting was well attended, with one member (Padmassana) flying in from Rome just in the nick of time to attend.

Our first speaker of the afternoon was Neil Taylor who talked to us about “Estonia, Tallinn and the Baltic Capitals”. Neil told us how these countries have come a long way in a short time from being part of the old Soviet Union to independent countries now served by low cost airlines. The countries do not have much in the way of natural countryside to attract the visitor, it’s their towns and cities that are worth the look. Tallinn in Estonia is the best known, though often full of Finns seeking cheap alcohol, but also has an old own full of charm. Nowadays there are many bars, restaurants and hotels to cater for tourists in the Baltic States and the days of surly waiters, demanding hefty tips in US $ for even condescending to serve you a drink have been consigned to history. Neil has written the Bradt guide to Estonia – see www.bradtguides.com

After the break Stevie Smith gave us a thoroughly entertaining talk on the Expedition 360 – see www.expedition360.com Steve along with Jason Lewis set out in 1994 to circumnavigate the Globe using manpower only. They built a boat, called Moksha, a Sanskrit word meaning freedom, which is powered by pedal power to cross the seas and oceans. The UK boat show allowed them to promote their trip, but there was a slight hitch with the publicity leaflets; they dictated to the printer that they would be living on “dehydrated rations”, but this was printed as “dehydrated Russians”. They left Greenwich in 1994 expecting the journey to take a couple of years, but it’s now 2005, and they still have a way to go. They initially cycled to Portugal and then spent 111 days crossing the Atlantic to Florida. Jason then roller skated across the US, before being hit by a geriatric, blind car driver and spent 8 months off the road. Their boat took them across to Hawaii, which you can read about in Steve’s book “Pedalling to Hawaii”, www.p2hi.com. They have crossed the Pacific and Jason is now making his way up through S.E. Asia towards Singapore.

Saturday 5th November

This meeting will be at our regular venue, The Church of Scotland, Crown Court, behind the Fortune Theatre in Covent Garden and will start at 2.30pm, Doors open at 2.15 pm.

Tom Fremantle will be talking about “A Journey down the River Niger” by dugout canoe and donkey cart. Tom follows the trail blazing Scottish explorer Mungo Park, taking in mangrove swamps, Tuareg camps and the legendary city of Timbuktu. [Gambia, Senegal, Mali, Nigeria] www.mini-mule.co.uk

After the tea and coffee break, Amar Grover will be talking about “The Ethnic Minorities in China.” China has 55 Minorities living in the countries most beautiful and interesting corners. http://www.travelintelligence.com

London meetings are held at The Church of Scotland, Crown Court, behind the Fortune Theatre in Covent Garden at 2.30pm the first Saturday of each month. There is no London meeting in August, but we will be back in September. For more information, you can contact the Globetrotters Info line on +44 (0) 20 8674 6229, or visit the website: www.globetrotters.co.uk Admission Members £2.50 Non-members £5

For information on Ontario meetings, please contact Svatka Hermanek: shermanek@schulich.yorku.ca or Bruce Weber: tel. 416-203-0911 or Paul Webb: tel. 416-694-8259.

Meetings are held on the third Friday of January, March, May, September and November. Usually at the Woodsworth Co-op, Penthouse, 133, Wilton Street in down town Toronto at 8.00pm.

There’s a well trodden “tourist” route in Sabah, Borneo. Most people arrive in KK (Kota Kinabalu), from mainland Malaysia or Brunei. The usual route is to make the 1 night 2 day climb of Mt Kinabalu, scoff at seeing the ‘circus’ of orang-utans at Sepilok, (but still go,) do a jungle trek (complete with leeches when it rains) at Kinabatangan, and end up diving around Sipadan. The Beetle however, obviously a wuss, headed direct from KK for the delightful town of Semporna to go diving around Sipadan.

I am told that Semporna translates from Malay to mean ‘beautiful’. Beautiful it ain’t. It’s a small place clustered around the sea front, spilling up a small hill where a motley collection of shops, two budget hotels, an internet café, one KFC, a Courts Mammoth, Maybank, a supermarket and the mini van terminus can be found. Down the slope by the sea there are fish markets (upsettingly selling manta rays, blue spotted rays and sharks amongst the usual tuna etc.,) lots of small rickety wooden stalls with people selling water melons, small plastic bags of tomatoes, durian, bananas, rambutans, small piles of chillies, ginger and the like. The road from the top of the town leads via a small roundabout with a rusting sculpture of a marlin in a circle down a small incline to the central market and wharf. The road is broken up, badly pot holed and largely comprises rough gravel. Partially open culverts run by the side of the roads.

The place stinks and you have to pick your way around gaping holes in the pavement and road, steel girders stretched across the pavement and road, debris from semi abandoned buildings and rubbish: decomposing food, dead animals and plastic bags abound. Several divers came a cropper on any one/combination of the above and hurt themselves – and this on land and not in the sea.

Opposite the wharf, there’s the Dragon Inn budget hotel, a collection of long houses on stilts in the sea. To the right of that is the somewhat posher Seafest Hotel and cafe. In between there’s a small collection of dive operations.

I arrived during Ramadan, a time when there are a lot of dusty fruit and veg stalls during the day but the supermarket is closed until 7pm. The KFC was not doing a great deal of business during the day either, though there is a large Chinese population in Semporna and they were not fasting and could be found sitting in the kedai kopi – coffee shops. After 6.30pm, the local Malays broke their fast and sat in open air restaurants watching violent movies whilst feral cats fought beside for scraps of food. The owner of the place I stayed at, Lees Rest House gave me his views on Semporna, but not first without complaining how hard it was to do business as a Chinese person in Malay society. I was told that there were many illegal Filipino people, as Mindanao, in the south of the Philippines is close by.

You may wonder, from my description of Semporna, why I stayed there. Simple: because this is the best place to stay to go diving around Sipadan. The alternatives are to go and stay in one of two very swish resorts on Mabul – too expensive for me – one quoted me £1,100 for 7 days’ diving and accommodation, and the other is even more expensive. Another option is to stay in a long house on Mabul, which I did think about as it would mean that I could sleep in a little until the dive boat arrived from Semporna, but, being a Beetle, I decided to stay in my small but clean and air con’d room at Lees Guest House for 40 Ringits a night – about £6 and that I could run the twice daily gamut of hisses and whistles from the local men whilst walking down to the dive shop and back. They’ve obviously not seen a Beetle before.

A small oasis in the town called Semporna is a dive shop called Scuba Junkies, complete with fury creature Ewok, a white gangling ball of walking fluffiness. I did 21 dives with Scuba Junkies over seven days and can recommend them whole heartedly; they were professional, safe and fun to be with. The diving around Sipadan more than made up for staying in Semporna, which faded into insignificance compared to the sharks, turtles and reef fish I saw.

Sipadan diving really is world class diving. One dive site called Barracuda Point has so many resting sharks on sandy slopes and turtles that it is easy to become blasé about them. We also saw small schools of barracuda too, and I saw two leopard sharks, my first sighting ever. March/April time there are sometimes schools of hammerheads sharks. At times there are so many turtles that you have to get out of their way as they ease of their ledges or move from sandy patches. This is not necessarily deep diving, you can see all you hope to at less than 25 metres; yes, sometimes, there were strong-ish currents but nothing too difficult and on top of the reef at between 9 and 5 metres there was always a myriad of hundreds of reef fish.

There’s macro diving too, if that is your thing. I felt so in awe of the ‘big stuff’ around Sipadan that I did not want to miss out on that so only made three macro dives around Mabul. On one dive, around the pillars supporting an old oil exploration rig that is now the Sea Ventures floating hotel, at around 12 metres underneath a pile of iron girders is the most enormous moray eel I have ever seen. He is called Elvis, though I don’t know why. On the macro dives, we saw frog fish, scorpion leaf fish, juvenile sweetlips and there are sea horses, though I did not see one.

All of the photos in this article were kindly given to the Beetle by Tino, dive instructor, and one of the owners of Scuba Junkies.

We had just finished a fantastic evening barbecue at our Kakadu hostel. Most of us were settling in for an evening of drinking, talking and fighting off insects around the camp fire.

“Come on everyone, let’s go croc spotting” the hostel host said enthusiastically.

“Croc spotting?” someone exclaimed “but it’s night time?”

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he said somewhat disheartened before adding. “I just thought you’d like to! Kakadu is another world at night!”

He paused to think of what else he could say to sway those hesitant.

“You don’t know when you will be back? But I’ll leave it up to you. I will be leaving in 10 minutes which will give you enough time to grab a jumper, a torch and put on a pair of walking shoes. Therefore, if you decide to come, you can meet me at the hostel gate”.

I already knew that I wanted to go night croc spotting. After all, I didn’t come all this way to miss out on anything. Off we headed into the darkness, a mini bus-load of city dwellers led by a bearded, bare-footed reptile lover along a moon lit dirt track in search of salt-water crocodiles. After a 15 minute walk which involved brief stops to look at the local flora and fauna including a spider which could have easily slapped someone with one of its huge legs, we arrived at a causeway.

“This is close enough I think” said our host. The causeway can be crossed by foot during the dry season, but as we weren’t quite in this season yet the causeway still had water rushing over it. Apparently it was a great fishing area. Unfortunately, we were told that only the week before a young boy was taken by a crocodile while fishing with his father here.

Our host spotlighted the causeway with his torch. We were about 50 feet away from it. A long, rough, grey croc tail disappeared over some rocks. This brought gasps of ‘wow’. It truly was an incredible sight to see a crocodile in its natural habitat. He then scanned the river with his torch.

“Look” he said excitedly “see those two orange snake eyes?”

I squinted into the darkness until I saw those two orange spots.

“Well that’s a croc” he said “and a bloody big one too”.

“How can you tell?” someone asked.

“The larger the eyes the bigger the croc. I’d say that one is at least 6 foot long, even more”.

“Wow” someone said. Wow seemed to be the word of the evening as most of us stumbled for words describe what we were seeing.

The area turned out to be mission control for our crocodile spotting. We all took turns standing next to our host looking at those illuminated, transparent, marble-like eyes. They were hypnotising. I felt like a kangaroo staring into some headlights.

More pairs of orange marbles appeared hovering in the darkness ahead of us. There must have been at least a dozen. No doubt, the buggers were thinking, food, succulent live food of all shapes and sizes, all waiting for an underwater roll. I was glad they were all over there and we were here.

“Have you ever smelt croc before?” our host suddenly asked.

“No” someone said, and I thought, I don’t think I want to.

“Can you smell that briny, salty water smell?”

I stuck my nose out into the darkness and let the smell fill my nostrils. It was an odour I was familiar with. It was similar to the smell of drying seaweed on a beach. Yeah I can smell that briny, salty water smell which intensified the longer I smelt it. No cause for alarm though I thought, after all, we have kept our distance.

“RUN” our host yelled.

It took a few seconds for what our host just said to register, but when it did, I and everyone else joined our host high tailing it back up the track. Whether this was a joke or not I am not sure. However, if you take a trip into Kakadu and your host of the hostel asks you to come for a walk to do some night croc spotting make sure you stay behind him at all times.

For information on Ontario meetings, please contact Svatka Hermanek: shermanek@schulich.yorku.ca or Bruce Weber: tel. 416-203-0911 or Paul Webb: tel. 416-694-8259.

Meetings are held on the third Friday of January, March, May, September and November. Usually at the Woodsworth Co-op, Penthouse, 133, Wilton Street in downtown Toronto at 8.00 p.m.

Trip duration: 19 days
Trip miles to date: 3,040
Miles since last update: 1,023

I've recently arrived in Peurto Natalès having successfully visited Ushuaia and the end-of-the-world!!! Having hoped to make Ushuaia in a single leap from Rio Gallegos, I had to overnight in Rio Grande (150 miles short) as 2 border crossings and a delayed ferry crossing (across the Straights of Magellan) slowed progress.

The borders were remarkably trouble-free and I'm thankful for getting the correct documentation (Carnet de Passage for the bike) prior to travelling. It's also a bonus that many bikers come through these borders on route to Ushuaia so the officials know what they're looking at – although I'm still impressed with the flamboyance and enthusiasm you can put into stamping a document 6 or 12 times.

Any thoughts of reaching Ushuaia that night were dashed at the ferry crossing at Pta. Delgardo, which connects mainland Chile with Terra del Fuego. Even by Pategonian standards, it was pretty bloody windy that day and the ferry ramp on the other side was closed. I joined a long-line of traffic and had to park the bike behind other vehicles to prevent it from being blown over!

With little information forthcoming, many vehicles turned around and headed south (I guess) to Punta Arenas and the longer ferry crossing.  The other frustration was that trucks and coaches automatically drove to the head of the queue, taking priority over the proletariat like me.  Of course everybody else could take shelter in their cars / vans / 4×4's etc – but for me it was a couple of hours sitting on the tarmac in the lee of the wind.

Eventually, 3 hours after arriving, I got to board a ferry.  Naturally I was pulled aside and loaded last, squeezed on between a rental car and the now raised loading ramp.  I didn't share the loaders confidence in the position of the bike so I decided to stay on the bike for the incredibly bumpy 20 minutes it took to cross – if I hadn't the bike would have fallen against the car for sure.

The blast down to San Sebastian (2nd border) was fun as it was dirt road all the way and I was able to catch, and pass all the traffic from both the ferry I was on, and the previous ferry that was full of vehicles that had driven past me in the queue (very satisfying!!!)

After over-nighting in Rio Grande I struck out for Ushuaia the next day. Pleasingly the terrain changed from the flat open pampas to forested mountains. The last 20 miles changed from dirt track to beautiful tarmac, which wouldn't have been out of place along the Route Napoleon outside Nice.

Eventually I rounded a corner and there it was – USHUAIA!!! It amuses me that after 2,000 miles this marks the start of my stated trip to Alaska.

From the gentle slope down into the town, I could see several ships in port ahead. Little did I appreciate what this really meant. Upon parking on the high street in search of a hotel list I was immediately approached by several Brit tourists – drawn by the Union Jack on my crash helmet. This was pleasant enough but it highlights the type of town Ushuaia is, a transit lounge for wealthy western tourists on route to a short trip around Antarctica.  Ushuaia was quite unlike any other town in Argentina, full of  tacky souvenir shops, Irish theme pubs and expensive hotels.

After spending a night at the (very welcoming) Hostel Albergue I decided to get out of town, choosing to camp in the remarkably picturesque Nation Park of Terra del Fuego, which coincidentally also contains the official end of the road.

I dutifully posed for the obligatory photo next to the wooden marker (see below)before setting up camp (first time on the trip). The park is stunning and the following day I set off early to climb the highest peak there (yeah, a bit foolhardy I know). The trails were easy to follow but the climb was a tricky one, rising through incredibly dense forest, sat points resembling something out of Hansel & Gretal, into peat bog and eventually a tall slope of loose scree.

The summit view was worth the toil (photo above) showing all around the Beagle Channel and off into Chile and Cape Horn itself.

Next day I set off north, aiming to stop in Punta Arenas. Another border, another ferry across the Magellan Straights, and once more I'm in Chile. At the ferry ramp at Porvenir I was entertained by 10 Czech engineers on route to James Ross Island to build the Czech Republic's first research station in Antarctica. Amusingly they were more impressed at my trip than their own forthcoming endeavour, but having just read about the fateful trip of Shackleton's expedition to that area, I'm in awe of anybody who elects to spend a lengthy stay there. One of them had contacts with the Czech version of Motorcycle News (magazine) and took my details and a photo for the journal.

So now I'm in Peurto Natales and about to embark on a 6 day trek around the Torres del Paine national park. This was a must do excursion for me before the trip and from what I can see of the Andes rising from the horizon, I wont be disappointed.

I'm 3,000 miles and 20 days into this trip and getting used to the change of lifestyle. What I have noticed is the western-world (and specifically US) 'culture-creep'. Every hotel I check into has 60 channels of TV with predominately US content spilling out and it inevitably impacts the local environment.

I wonder what this trip would find if it were repeated 50 years from now.

If you want to know more about Greg's travels, visit his website at: http://www.unbeatentrack.com/

Trieste is an Adriatic coastal city in north eastern Italy, close to the border with Slovenia. The sea in the Gulf of Trieste is very clear and clean, with limestone cliffs and rocky beaches. The centre of the city has a mid-European feel, more Austrian than Italian, Trieste was the seaport of the Hapsburg Empire.  Here you can enjoy a combination of a sea/beach holiday and the attractions of a cultural city.

It is an ideal destination for a short break but you could easily spend a week here. The Verdi Theatre hosts an opera season in the winter and an operetta festival in summer. You can swim in the beautiful clear sea, stroll the promenade, and walk along the cliff paths. Take in the wonderful art collection at the Revoltella Museum. You can sip coffee on Piazza Unita Italia with its grand 19th century buildings, which face onto the sea.

History: according to folklore, Trieste was founded by Tergeste, a friend of Jason and the Argonauts. Ancient Tergeste as a Roman colony is dated to around 178 BC. It became more important during the reign of Octavian when roads were improved.  The city has had many rulers during its history: Goths, Byzantines, and Lombards. In the 13th century Trieste was forced to swear allegiance to Venice. To escape Venetian domination, Trieste sought the protection of Duke Leopold of Austria. Trieste was of great importance to the Hapsburg Empire as a seaport and was made a Freeport in 1719. Without customs barriers the port and city flourished.  At the end of the First World War with collapse of the Hapsburg Empire, Trieste was returned to Italy in 1918. Trieste was taken over by the Third Riech when Italy withdrew from the Second World Ward in September 1943. Two years later there was a 40-day Occupation by Tito's Yugoslav forces. After 9 years under an Anglo-American government Trieste was handed over to the Italian government.

Trieste's history may help explain why 70% of Italians apparently did not know that Trieste was part of Italy in a recent opinion poll!  With EU enlargement Trieste is ideally placed as the only natural port in the centre of Europe. Trieste is one of three finalists to host the international Expo of Science, Technology and Culture in 2008. If its bid is successful there will be more investment in the area and Trieste will become better known on the world map.

Literary Connections: the Irish author James Joyce lived in Trieste during the early part of the 20th century. When he first arrived he worked as a tutor at the Berlitz School of English. He went on to write “The Dubliners”, “The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man” and start “Ulysses” in Trieste. The rich mix of central European and Eastern Mediterranean culture in Trieste is said to have had a great influence on his writing.

Joyce (pictured left) was English tutor to Itali Svevo, the Italian novelist. Svevo was born in Trieste in 1861, his Mother was part of a Triestian Jewish family, and his Father was of German descent. Joyce encouraged and praised Svevo's work and Svevo wrote critiques of Joyce's work.

Jan Morris wrote the book, “Trieste and the Meaning of Nowhere”. Morris claims this is her final book, a self-examination based in Trieste. Morris changed gender.  Jan Morris first visited Trieste at the end of the Second World War as young Welsh soldier. She describes how the city “curiously haunted her” . She revisited the city as an elderly woman.

Morris describes Trieste as “natural capital of the nation of nowhere”. By this she means a home for the so-called “Fourth World”. This is a scattered group with the common values of humour and understanding, usually exiles in their own communities but probably numerous enough to form their own nation.

I laughed at Clay Risen's comment in his piece about Trieste in the Square Table in Spring 2003. He observed that “Trieste is the only city in Europe which appears more often in reflective essays than in guide books of newspaper travel sections.”

Exploring the city:  the best way to explore the city is to walk around. The Piazza dell' Unita d'Italia is the heart of the city. The square was created towards the end of the 19th century. It houses the City Hall, with its clock tower featuring statues of Mikeze and Lakeze, figures from Trieste folklore; Government House, with its gilded mosaic wall decorations; and the former Head Office of Lloyd Triestino, built in Renaissance style by an Austrian architect.

The Victory Lighthouse lights the Gulf of Trieste and commemorates the dead of the First World War. It stands almost 70 metres high with a scaled dome containing a statue of winged Victory. At the base of the column is the anchor of the torpedo boat Audace, the first Italian ship to enter the harbour in 1918. The lighthouse took 4 years to complete and was officially opened in 1927.

The Old Stock Exchange (see picture right) is a fine example of neo-classical architecture, resembling a Greek temple. The Old Stock Exchange stands by the so called Grand Canal. However this is rather a misnomer as the canal is very short.

The Arco di Riccard is a Roman gate to the city thought to date from 33 AD. It is in Piazzetta di Ricordo in the old city. You can see the Roman amphitheatre at the foot of San Guisto hill.  The Verdi Opera Theatre opened in 1801. It is of a similar style to La Scala in Milan.  The Arco di Riccard is a Roman gate to the city thought to date from 33 AD. It is in Piazzetta di Ricordo in the old city. You can see the Roman amphitheatre at the foot of San Guisto hill.  The Verdi Opera Theatre opened in 1801. It is of a similar style to La Scala in Milan.

Day Trips: there are many day trips that can be taken, including exploring the Carse.  The Triestine carse starts at Montefalcone in the north and stretches down adjacent to the Slovenian border. The area is known as a paradise for botanists with a mixture of continental flora and Mediterranean vegetation.  There is talk of the area achieving national park status.  The Carsic house in Rupingrande has a collection of traditional furniture and local costumes.  During the first week in May the works of local painters are exhibited during the Majence Festival, in San Dorligo delle Valle.  The best known event is the Carsic Wedding, every second year on the last Sunday of August in Monrupino. There are dances every night of the preceding week. On the wedding day the bridal procession, all dressed in traditional costume, walk to the fortress church for the marriage ceremony.

Grado and Aquiliea : Aquiliea was founded in the first century BC. It occupies a strategic defence location. It became a Patriarch's seat and many beautiful churches were built. The Bascilica is considered to be one of the most important monuments of early Christianity. There are two museums to visit there.

Grado was the extreme southern part of the port of Aquileia (see picture below left). Now it a beautiful island city joined to the mainland by a causeway. It boasts 20 kms of fine sandy beaches. Grado was very popular as a spa during the days of the Austrio Hungarian Empire with its healing sands.Grado can be reached by the no 21 bus from Trieste. There is also a boat service during the Summer.

Muggia: Muggia (see picture below right)  is a pretty coastal town just south of Trieste, which can be reached by ferry from Trieste during the summer. The town is of Venetian origin, surrounded by medieval walls with a 14th century castle and a pretty port.

The Slovenian border is just a few kilometres from Trieste. The Lipica Stud and Riding School is under a half hour drive from Trieste. It was originally founded in 1580 by Archduke Charles for breeding royal horses for the Austrian court. Now you can tour the stud farm (6 Euros) or have a riding lesson, starting at 16 euros.

Croatia can be easily reached through by passing through the narrow strip of coastal Slovenia.  Venice can be reached by direct train from Trieste. The journey takes around two hours. The train takes you right into the centre of Venice.

Getting there and around: Ryanair flies into Trieste from London Stansted. The airport is 35 kms west of Trieste but there is regular public transport on Coach 51 into Trieste.  If you do decide to hire a car, it is worth checking that you can take it into Slovenia and Croatia if you are considering day trips there.  Trieste has a good public transport network.  There is a “Trieste by Bus” city tour in 13 stops. This is available on Saturdays and Sundays at 2pm from the end of June to mid October. The two and a half hour trip allows you to see the city's main attractions. The cost is around five euros per person.  You can take the Opicani tram up to the Carso plateau, 348 metres above sea level. This funicular tramway was built in 1902. The tram leaves from Piazza Oberdan in the city centre up Scorolo hill to the plateau above.

Karen Bryan is an independent travel consultant and writer, specialising in less well known destinations in Europe. Her websites are: www.europealacarte.co.uk, www.europe-culture-activity-tours.com 

West Java is one of the five provinces of Java, Indonesia. Bandung is the capital city. The greater part of west Java is mountainous, with the Priangan highlands forming the core territory. 21 mounts can be found here, most of which are classified as active volcanoes and have become an integral part of tourism in the West Java province.

Mount Tangkuban Perahu (capsized boat) is one of them. A smouldering 2000m wide, surrealistic volcano 1800m above sea level, it lies 28 km north of Bandung reachable within 30 minute ride.

The Legend of Sangkuriang

This is an example of how nature was converted into a legend, such as Bandung lake and Mt Tangkuban Perahu with the story of Queen Dayang Sumbi and her son Sangkuriang cited from Neuman va Padang (1971). Once Sangkuriang, whilst growing up, he was so naughty and got hurt and the wound formed an ugly scar.

The King, who loved his son above everything was so furious that his son had hurt himself that he rejected his wife.  Fifteen years later, being of age, Sangkuriang asked his father permission to take a trip to West Java.  After arriving in the plain of Bandung, he met a beautiful lady, fell in love and ask her to marry him and she accepted.  But one day when she caressed her lover's head she saw the wound. The loving woman, turned out to be the disowned queen, discovered that she was in love with her son and marriage was impossible.

The marriage had to be prevented. Not willing to admit that she was his mother she thought of a way out. The day before the wedding was due to take place, she said to her husband to be, tomorrow is our wedding day, and if you are true to your love to me and love me as much you say do then I want to celebrate the wedding on board a ship, a proa.  Tomorrow morning at day break, I want to sail with you on a great lake in a nice boat and there must be a banquet feast.  Sangkuriang was embarrassed but he was not willing to refuse.  He begged the help of the lake's helpful spirits. By causing a landslide, the lake spirit dammed the river Citarum that flowed through the plain of Bandung.  The force of the water felled big tree and a boat was constructed while other lake spirits prepared the wedding banquet.

Early in the morning the Queen saw that the impossible had been realised so she prayed to Brama, the mighty God, to help her to prevent the disgrace of a marriage between a mother and her son.  Brama destroyed the dam in turbulence and Sangkuriang was drowned.  The queen in her agony threw herself on the capsized boat, breaking through the hull of the ship and was also drowned.

Now, the vast plain of Bandung is flanked on its north side by the volcano Tangkuban Perahu, the  capsized boat.  The Queen's jump on the hull of the ship is the Kawah Ratu, the crater of the Queen.  The hot fumaroles and tremors in the crater represent the tears of the sad mother still sobbing.  East of Mt Tangkuban Perahu rises the Bukit Tunggul, trunk mountain, the trunk of the tree from which the boat was made and to the west we find Mt Burangrang, the “crown of leaves”.  At many places along the shore of the lake Neolithic obsidian tools of primitive inhabitants are found and described by von Koeningswald (1935).  These Neolithic people noticed that the hold was cut deeper and deeper by erosion caused by the lowering water. Finally only a marshy plain remained.

Centuries later the inhabitants of Bandung plain still know about the legend of the existence of a former lake. Not knowing anything about geology, but living in the taboos of spirit ghosts and Gods, geological facts were put together in a tale that was understandable.

If you are thinking of holiday trip, or even just information on any travel requirements in Java especially Indonesia, please do not hesitate to contact me. I'll be most happy to assist you. Tedy can be contacted by e-mail as follows: abctour_td@cbn.net.id.