Malta: A Tiny Slice of Heaven at the Crossroads of Culture

I’ve mentioned in other posts that my trip to Malta sprang from one of my core travel philosophies – if you know someone in an interesting, far away place that you might never otherwise have occasion to visit, pack your bags and go for it. October, 2007 was an interesting time to be in the archipelago nation. (Rather than being a single island as is commonly believed, Malta is actually comprised of three inhabited islands and a number of smaller, rocky outcrops). The country was frantically preparing for further assimilation into the EU, with unmanned Schengen immigration counters already set up at the Malta International Airport, and a countdown clock by Valetta’s City Gate marking the days, hours, and minutes until the Euro would be officially adopted. (Frankly, I was delighted to still be able to use the Maltese lira!) Note that this adventure is eight years old – but general itinerary items should still be doable!

As my plane descends, I find myself faced with scenery unlike any I’ve ever seen before. Yellow walls and grey walks rocks with only the slightest hint of scrubby vegetation extend as far as the eye can see.   The sea is a beautiful and almost mysterious shade of deep blue. And I can see the entire island nation from the sky!

Theme I: A Tale of Two Cities

Mdina

As the only person with Asian features in the airport I am highly amused by the fact that I spot my friends Greg and Marco – who look almost exactly like everyone else – before they see me. A diplomat well-versed in the perils of jet lag, Marco sits firmly in the “fight through it” camp.   Plunking my luggage in the trunk, he heads straight for Mdina, the Silent City.

Almost entirely carless, Mdina is the perfect place to lose yourself, meandering through narrow alleys for a couple of hours. We briefly pop into St. Paul’s Cathedral, built on the spot where then governor and now Maltese saint Publius allegedly met St. Paul after he was shipwrecked on Malta. We also visit Palazzo Falson, a wonderfully preserved medieval palace. Noting that I am flagging after a couple of hours soaking up the admittedly marvelous atmosphere, he marches our trio to a small café, where we met up with some of their friends. (I discover throughout the trip that it is almost impossible to go anywhere on the island without bumping into at least one person you know!)

Dining at home with Greg, Marco, and some of their friends, I alternate devoting all of my energy trying not to fall asleep on my plate with peppering the local Maltese experts with all sorts of questions about the seemingly impossible, consonant-filled Maltese language, and the intersection of Arab, Roman, and English cultures.

Valetta

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Maltese buses! If you watch the movie Munich, you’ll notice these buses in the background in “Jerusalem” and “Rome”

The next morning, Greg and I hop on a wonderfully quaint orange Malta bus (sadly but perhaps practically discontinued in 2011) to Valetta.  Our first stop is St. John’s Co-Cathedral, quite possibly the most beautiful and ornate house of worship I have ever seen. And that is really saying something given my lifetime of travel across the globe.

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My little “point and shoot” camera does not do this amazing architectural work of art justice. . .

I am surprised to discover that I am absolutely FASCINATED by the Knights of Malta – or more accurately, the Sovereign Hospitaller Order of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta. One of the reasons that the church is so over-the-top amazing is that each group of knights tried to outdo the next through ever expanding contributions. The talented but hot-headed Caravaggio also had a rather checkered history on the island.

 

We head to Valetta’s Church of Saint Paul’s Shipwreck (I’m learning that this maritime disaster is a BIG deal in Malta!). While there is no comparison from a grand aesthetic/architectural point of view – it’s a truly lovely example of traditional Maltese baroque architecture and is both calm and inviting.

We stroll through the Upper Barrakka Gardens where we enjoy stunning panoramic views of the Grand Harbor. Greg jokes that we have missed the Saluting Battery, and says that for some reason he always seems to arrive minutes too late. While it would have been cool to see, I must admit that I greatly enjoy the peace.

We end the day browsing among local artisans making filigree jewelry on Republic street – and being me, I can’t resist picking up a pair of silver earrings to adorn myself and commemorate the trip.

Theme II: Megalithic Marvels

The Hypogeum of Ħal-Saflieni (severe claustrophobes beware)

Greg and Marco are good friends and have booked my admission to the Hypogeum of Ħal-Saflieni in advance (a MUST as daily admissions are strictly limited to reduce the impact on the fragile environment). The aptly-named Hypogeum (Greek for underground) is at once incredibly cool (both literally and figuratively!) and somewhat creepy (it is a necropolis after all!) While it is not known exactly when the structure was built, historians’ estimates range from 4000-3000 BC. The tour is a bit rushed, but certainly interesting – particularly when you consider how old it is! While I am generally not one for random knickknacks, something about the prone image of the rotund and wonderfully detailed Sleeping Lady of Ħal-Saflieni speaks to me, and I pick up a replica at the gift shop.

Megalithic Temple

230427_8032117535_4427_nWe begin at the Tarxien temples, site of 4 temples built between 3600 and 2500 BC. Marco explains that as a child he and his friends would play among the giant “rocks” without realizing their historic significance. I am amazed at how well preserved some of the relief sculptures are, given their age. Our special next stop is Hagar Qim “Close your eyes,” said Marco with a gleam in his eye. Gently taking me by the shoulders, he guides me to a nondescript rock. Bending my knees down to “just the right angle,” he explains that this was the exact vantage point that a renowned National Geographic photographer chose to capture the UNESCO World Heritage Sites, in all its glory. (Note, some of the megalithic temple sites have been closed for renovation at various times over the past few years, so do comprehensive research first to avoid disappointment!) At the temple site of Mnajdra, my friend Greg proudly poses for me to provide perspective – either he is really tall (which he isn’t. . .) or, more accurately, the megalithic peoples were vertically challenged! It is humbling to realize the lasting accomplishments of these long-gone civilizations from millennia ago, and one can’t help but wonder what, if any, impact we will leave for the future.

Theme III: Color in Nature

230222_8032097535_3471_nI mentioned being struck by colors at the beginning of this post – and indeed, my sensory exploration continued during the latter part of my trip. The Blue Grotto, a sea cave on the southern coast of Malta, was one such place. Now while one might im225702_8031917535_6475_nagine the water itself to provide the luminescent blue tinge, but it is in fact the pure white sand that lends the area its unique hue. And it’s not just the water. The cave itself is home to a veritable rainbow of colors – from bright mineral yellows and oranges to deep purples, and a variety of submerged fauna.

Ghajn TuffiehaWe end the day with some relaxation at Għajn Tuffieħa beach, a quiet beach and steep hike down to a crescent shaped promontory that is TOTALLY worth it – especially at sunset. Enjoying our relaxed states, we proceed to an outdoor restaurant at The Three Cities to enjoy first hand Malta’s maritime history coming to life.

Believe it or not I never made it to Gozo, a much less developed island that is renowned for its own charms. No worries though – it provides me an EXCELLENT reason to return. . .


Transit Adventures: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Any particular trip can be defined by the actual journeys you take. Whether it is simply the act of getting to your intended destination or the mad rush to book a driver for a reasonable price. we tend to find that it is these that define the story of travel. So in the spirit of this, Jennifer and Mark have decided to take time out from our normal ramblings about weekends away, and list some of our most memorable travel transportation experiences.

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Making a rapid escape from apologizing to my better half at Humayun’s Tomb, New Delhi, India

Screen Shot 2015-06-02 at 10.57.11 PMOrdos to Beijing  (2013)

Ordos, Inner Mongolia, has had plenty written about it.  A ghost city of much beauty in the middle of nowhere, Ordos an apt symbol for the modern real estate development of China. Yet, it is also an airport, a beautiful airport, connected to the truly awful Nanyuan Airport in Beijing.

Nanyuan Airport is a tiny old military base on the southern outskirts of Beijing that is hard to get to and even harder to get away from at the wrong time of night.

They also regularly cancel both departing and arriving flights for no apparent reason. Hence, in 2013 Mark found himself stuck in Ordos following a “short” work trip after flight cancellation upon cancellation. The stated reason – rain; the real reason; no one really knew. Anyway, countless flight cancellations, fifty international journalists baying for blood, and a thirteen hour coach ride from the city next to Ordos, ensured this was a trip to remember for all the wrong reasons.  But time heals all wounds, right?

And of course, if you want to read about one of Jennifer’s flight nightmares, you can find it here.

Screen Shot 2015-06-02 at 10.57.48 PMPart I:  Rishikesh – Delhi – Rajasthan (2012)

Mark’s girlfriend is a fantastic traveler. Traveled way more extensively than he has, and often does it without a complaint. However, she is also highly keen to make the most of every moment of every trip and this can lead to friction.

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Train journeys in India are absolutely worth it. Mark enjoys wide expanse of western-India.

Mark and Quint caught a train from Rishikesh to Delhi, which lasted for over ten hours. Once in Delhi they had two or so hours to spare before the next even longer train journey to Rajasthan. He wanted to rest, and she wanted to see a world heritage site (she is admirably trying to see them all.  As in every single one on the globe.) She won. They went to the wrong tomb. Mark sulked. They pretended to smile in pictures. Finally, they found Humayun’s Tomb, the centuries old resting place of Mughal Emperor Humayun. She won again because it is truly spectacular.

This is a central to the Weekend Crossroad philosophy and something we will explore more extensively in future posts.  Why sit around an airport or train lounge when there are more adventures to be had?  (Read about things to do in a layover in Frankfurt here.)

Part II:  Kanyakumari – Thiruvananthapuram (Now we know why they still call it Trivandrum!) 

Meanwhile, two years later, Jennifer was determined to overcome the reported horrors of train travel in India (mostly shared by her Indian friends!)  As a global traveler from the age of 6, Jennifer was not prepared to be daunted in the slightest by the prospect of booking a ticket.  Until faced with the Indian Rail website.  And many, many other challenges.  So like any savvy traveler, Jennifer and her friend Pete sought the kind assistance of a travel expert — an innkeeper in Kochi, Kerala, who kindly helped them to purchase two first class tickets between Kanyakumari, Tamil Nadu and Trivandrum.  Pete and Jennifer noted the distance between the train station and their hotel, inquired as to how long in advance they should arrive at the station, and organized an auto rickshaw ride, and were all set.  Or were they.

Greeted by emphatic head shakes at the local train station, Jennifer and Pete were baffled as to why their tickets were not accepted — and why their train was not listed on the schedule.  Finally, a kind English-speaking soul explained that in fact, they were at the wrong train station.  They could either try to grab a trishaw and rush to the right station (standing a good chance of missing the train) or purchase a new ticket to Trivandrum.  Looking at each other, both decided to opt for the new ticket — especially upon realizing that the cost would be mere cents.  Then they learned why.

As the train choked and struggled up to the platform and a chaotic mad dash of humanity ensued (where DID all these people come from?  They could have sworn that there were not this many people in the station!), Jennifer and Pete helplessly looked around for a place to sit.  Jennifer seriously considered abandoning Pete for the calmer looking women-only car, or hiding in the baggage car, but was soon convinced by Pete that this was NOT in the spirit of weekend crossroad adventure.  They happened across a nice local family who somehow managed to squeeze 1.5 seats out for our two hapless travelers.  Then Pete and Jennifer learned why their tickets were so cheap.

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Jennifer and fellow wanderer Pete explore the southern-most tip of the subcontinent in Tamil Nadu. Their new friends help take a rather cramped selfie on third class rail in South India.

First, there was no air conditioning.  Indeed, there was barely any air circulating in the cramped car.  Sitting as closely as possible to the window (designed in typical “prison chic” manner with iron bars across it), they managed to get a small breeze.  And noticed that in addition to climbing to no more than approx. 40 km an hour, the train stopped at EVERY town, village, and crossing along the way.

But then fantastic things happened.  First, the slow pace enabled them to take in the sights in a way that could never have happened at 100+ km/hr.  Second, Jennifer was proudly able to take off her “princess prima donna” label for a day.  And third, practically ready to gnaw each others’ arms off with hunger upon finally pulling into Trivandrum station, the two discovered a wondrously eccentric and charming coffee house where they enjoyed a scrumptious (and cheap!) lunch.

The lesson?  Sometimes mistakes can lead to the best, unexpected adventures.

Pingyao to Beijing (2008)

Traveling on the wonderfully efficient high speed trains between the major Chinese metropolises (metropoli?) of Bejing, Tianjin, Nanjing, and Shanghai, it’s hard to believe that in the not-so-distant past, train travel in China was something between an adventure and a game of chance.  In 2007 it was impossible to purchase a round trip train ticket between any two Chinese destinations — you had to purchase a one way ticket to your destination — and upon arrival, immediately queue up for a return ticket.  In theory, this system worked.  Unless, like Jennifer and her friend Amy, you chose to travel during a major national holiday (in this case, the October “golden week” celebrating China’s National Day.

Ever adventurous, Jennifer and Amy decided it would be fun to take a day trip (involving two overnight train rides) to the ancient city of Pingyao, in the coal-rich (and highly polluted) Shanxi province.  They would take a hardsleeper train to Pingyao, arriving in the early morning, and spend the day exploring the walled city before catching another evening train back to Beijing where they would enjoy a lazy Sunday before heading back to work the following Monday.  What a great plan!  Amy, who is Caucasian, good-naturedly put up with the ceaseless curiosity of our fellow passengers, and being the more experienced Chinese train traveler of the two, made sure that they were second in line for the return tickets.  (Chinese trains kindly awake you with a loud PA fanfare before you arrive, bleary-eyed, at your destination.)  Money in hand, they approached the ticket window, only to  be told that all trains – to anywhere — were sold out until the following week.

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Outside the city wall.

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Inside the city wall.

Realizing that there was nothing that they could do, Amy and Jennifer proceeded to the historic city center and wandered around.  Despite the grey skies and the air so thick with smog that they could taste it, they were taken with the somewhat decrepit charm of the town, particularly when taken in from the top of the city wall.

1930760_36607677535_1771_nBy early afternoon they had circumnavigated the major sites and enjoyed a lunch of local steamed dumplings.  And realized that it was time to figure out how to get home.  Speaking to a local farmer, they learned that the local bus station was not too far away.  Climbing into his donkey cart, they headed for the terminal, where they were able to purchase tickets to Taiyuan, the provincial capital.  From there, they would catch a cab to the inter-province bus station and catch an overnight bus to Beijing.  Not their preferred mode of transport, but at least it would get them home.

Cramming onto a jumper seat in a mini-bus, Jennifer found herself seated between a crate containing a live (and vociferous!) chicken, and the “old woman with the bag of seemingly never ending odoriferous food” — and braced herself for a bumpy 2 hour ride.

In Taiyuan, Jennifer and Amy finally made it to the inter-province bus station, to find a scene of utter chaos.  Elbowing their way to the front of the line in true local fashion, they amazingly managed to get the two last tickets for the overnight bus to Beijing.  Around them, people in the same boat as they were yelling and crying.  But they were triumphant!  Heading outside, Jennifer spotted a travel agent.  On a whim, she popped in to see if there were any flights to Beijing that night.  Amazingly, there were.  So for around  US $50 apiece, they found a much easier way home.

What to do with the bus tickets?  Heading back to the terminal, they looked for the most “worthy” looking candidate.  They spotted  young man sitting calmly, but dejectedly, in a corner and asked him what was wrong.  He and his son needed to get back to Beijing urgently, but there were no tickets left.  So they were going to sit in the station until a place on a bus opened up.  Jennifer and Amy then sold him their tickets at cost, and with mouth agape and tears in his eyes, he accepted them.  Heading to a nearby McDonald’s to drown their sorrows and stress in junk food, they agreed that that was the highlight of their trip.

As the plane touched down at Beijing’s Capital International Airport, Jennifer reflected on how lucky she was to have options — to have both the means and the ability to jump on a last minute flight, while others had to struggle so much to get from Point A to Point B.  And she was immensely grateful.

Screen Shot 2015-06-02 at 10.58.24 PMChiang Mai to Bangkok (2002)

In 2002, Mark and his then girlfriend were traveling around Thailand with her sister. For their journey from Chiang Mai to Bangkok they booked themselves onto a 13-hour bus journey.

The journey was terrifying. Not only was it on mountain passes and in the pitch black, but the bus appeared to have little or no breaks. Speeding up as it went around corners hoping physics would do its part.

One particular stand out moment was pulling into the gas station, Mark and his fellow international travelers demanding to be let off and the bus driver and his associate refusing. Another bus pulled up next to them, full of Chinese tourists.  To this day Mark wonders what was going through their heads as they were met with thirty or so people banging against the windows of another bus, clearly petrified. But then Mark’s bus pulled off, never to see them again.

Upon reaching Bangkok, everyone all left the coach without saying a word — too stunned, even to express gratitude for being alive despite all the odds.

Do  you have any transit experiences to share?


A Tale of Two Budget Airlines – Part II of III: Why Jetstar is the King of Budget Airlines in Asia

Having just rounded up a two-month journey courtesy of the AirAsia ASEAN pass, I thought it would be timely to reflect both on my experience of using this innovative travel resource, and my occasionally difficult adjustment from business traveler to Weekend Explorer (read, budget traveler.) #firstworldproblems

But before I launch into the tale, I acknowledge that people may not have the time to read a lengthy blog post – let alone three. So here is the key takeaway. Jetstar is the King of Budget Airlines in Asia, I will never fly AirAsia again.

Some of you may have read my post from a couple of days ago A Tale of Two Budget Airlines – Part I of III: AirAsia ASEAN Pass – the Good, the Bad, the Ugly, and How Easy it Is to Lose a Customer for Life.  I know that the Internet is a pervasively negative place, and I wanted to be sure to chronicle my positive experiences alongside my struggles.

A couple of months ago, I planned an impulsive last minute trip to Singapore to surprise a friend for her birthday. Being unable to use the AirAsia ASEAN Pass due to the 14 day booking limitation, I explored alternate budget carriers as my favorite airline, Singapore Airlines, was far beyond my current price point (sob!)  [Side note on SQ:  those of you who want an amusing, if occasionally baffling Singlish read, this blog post from an ex-stewardess (yes, they still call themselves stewardesses, apparently!) is quite an amusing and touching read.]

Jetstar and Lion Air were the two best alternate options. But what should have been a simple booking process turned into a nightmare as neither website would accept ANY of my credit cards. Several calls to my credit card companies and multiple attempts to book later, I was ready to pull my hair out. So I called Lion Air. Being unable to accept credit card payments over the phone, they basically told me to be patient and keep trying. (Gee, thanks.)

Calling Jetstar was a completely different experience. First, they APOLOGIZED for the inconvenience caused. (I should note that to this day I’ve been unable to confirm whether the problem was at my credit cards’ end or the airlines’ websites.) Second, they proceeded to book my flight over the phone with utmost efficiency. Third, and most surprising, they followed up with an apologetic email and an IDR 500,000 voucher for future travel. At less than USD 50, this was not a huge financial hit for the company.   And at around 25% of a round trip ticket to Singapore, it wasn’t even that much money to me. But this was a class act by an airline one would expect to treat its customers like cattle. And has bought my life-long loyalty – extending to its parent company, Qantas, which I have yet to have the pleasure of flying. I should add that the flight itself was a very pleasant experience – the icing on the cake in my book.

Through this experience I learned several very important things about budget travel.

Image from Slate.com

First, and foremost, not all budget carriers are the same.   (Don’t take my word for it, check out Airline Ratings for alarmingly divergent safety records!)

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 9.38.44 PMSecond, while one expects to forgo certain perks and frills, one should not expect a reduction in basic customer service.

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 8.23.09 PMThird, if you treat your customers well, you get good customers. (I judge this not only based on my own satisfaction, but on the comportment of the average Jetstar passenger vis-à-vis the average AirAsia passenger.)

And this makes all the difference in the world.

Pricing models, on the other hand, could well be another issue, not only for Jetstar (as can be seen here), but other low cost carriers as well.  I am NOT a fan of opt out pricing, having an octogenarian mother and being quite sympathetic about how confusing websites can be.  The airline also was recently called to task for a recent incident involving a disabled Japanese passenger who was refused carriage on a Jetstar flight from Bangkok to Tokyo.  But I sincerely hope that they learn from their mistakes, and keep up the overall good work.

Read the first part of the series, A Tale of Two Budget Airlines – Part I of III: AirAsia ASEAN Pass – the Good, the Bad, the Ugly, and How Easy it Is to Lose a Customer for Life, here.


A Tale of Two Budget Airlines — Part III of III: Marriott is Not An Airline, but AirAsia Could Sure Learn a Thing or Two from Their Customer Service Bible (Book of Mormon?)

Having just rounded up a two-month journey courtesy of the AirAsia ASEAN pass, I thought it would be timely to reflect both on my experience of using this innovative travel resource, and my occasionally difficult adjustment from business traveler to Weekend Explorer (read, budget traveler.) #firstworldproblems

But before I launch into the tale, I acknowledge that people may not have the time to read a lengthy blog post – let alone three. So here is the key takeaway. AirAsia could learn a thing or two about customer service from Marriott.

One of my favorite stories behind the impetus for creating this blog involves a Marriott. Not a bad experience per se, but a disorienting time when I woke up on the third leg of an extended multi-city business trip and needed a few seconds to remember what city I was in. Because Marriotts are almost all the same. This can be comforting to the frequent business traveler who strives for a sense of normalcy on long jaunts away from home – but can also be incredibly disconcerting.

Weekend Crossroad, its writers and readers, by contrast, seek experiences. This involves embracing the unordinary, and the extraordinary, and in some ways is the polar opposite of this philosophy. But this doesn’t mean that we cannot appreciate a business model that, well, works. Or that we don’t occasionally crave the comforts of home.

Every year, my previous employer (a D.C.-based global communication and public affairs consultancy) holds a management meeting where past and future performance is discussed, clients are invited to share first-hand experience of what it’s been like working with the firm and what they expect from top-notch consultants, and guest speakers are invited to energize the team with new ideas. One year, the speaker was Kathleen Matthews, chief communications and public affairs officer (CCPAO?) for Marriott International.

Ms. Matthews (who is married to the bombastic Chris Matthews of Hardball fame) drew both from her experience as a D.C.-area news reporter/anchor and the face a Fortune 500 hospitality company. She explained that the company remains close to its roots (pun intended – the company was founded by John Willard and Alice Sheets Marriott in 1927 as a humble a root beer stand in Washington, D.C.) Marriott’s management philosophy is simple yet effective – If you take good care of your people, then they will take good care of the customer, and the customer will come back.

I’ve seen this in practice time and time again. I’ve had good experiences at Marriotts around the world, as well as some not-so-good ones. I’m presently a Silver Elite member – and while I enjoy several additional perks when staying at a Marriott, what is most important is that I’ve never felt like less of a customer during times where I did not have status (something that United Airlines could learn a thing or two from!)

All of my stories take place in Asia. I feel the need to elaborate on this point for several reasons. First, being half Chinese myself, and having led local teams in China, Malaysia, and Indonesia, I understand the immense cultural barriers that can exist when faced with a more “rah rah” style American management philosophy butts up against a deeply-entrenched sense of hierarchy.   Second, it means that I know that this is not an excuse, and that anyone who uses cultural differences as an rationale for poor understanding/performance has very low awareness themselves. Third, it means that I both recognize, and appreciate, the efforts required from all sides to make things work.

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Photo courtesy of the Shanghai Marriott Hotel Hongqiao

My first story is several years old, and takes place at the Shanghai Marriott Hotel Hongqiao.  The facilities have seen better days but are comfortable enough, and its convenient location by Hongiao airport is a major selling point. I was leading a multi-day media and spokesperson training course for the Pan-Asian executives of an American multinational company. Being a type-A anal-retentive sort, I decided that rather than grabbing a bite at the buffet lunch we had pre-booked for the participants and myself, I would see them down, grab a quick drink to take up with me, and set up for the afternoon session. As I headed out of the coffee shop with a glass of Coke in hand, a young server stopped me. “I’m sorry,” she says politely, “but guests are not allowed to take items out of the restaurant.” “I understand completely,” I reply, “but I’m part of the 20-person party over there and don’t have time for lunch. I simply wanted to take a drink up with me.” She apologized again, and I handed over the glass without another thought. (After all, it IS a completely reasonable policy.) As I’m setting up flip charts and markers in the conference room upstairs, I hear a knock at the door. I see a woman in a neat black suit, carrying a tray with a glass of ice and a can of Coke. Her tag reads “assistant manager,” and she says “I couldn’t help noticing your exchange with the server downstairs, and I wanted to apologize personally for the misunderstanding. It is our policy not to allow guests to remove food or beverages from the coffee shop, but I understand that you are busy and I hope that this will make up for that in a small way.” I was completely speechless. After making sure that she knew that I in no way blamed the server for her actions, I took the drink and sat down to think. Wow. Not only was this a first-rate service action, but how amazing that a junior manager at a restaurant in a Chinese hotel felt comfortable taking initiative to make a not-even-unhappy customer feel valued. For an approximately 25 US. cent can of soda, this individual invested in life-long loyalty. (And gave me fodder for future client service training sessions!)

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How’s that for a lobby lounge?!? Photo courtesy of the Mulu Marriott Resort & Spa.

My second story take place a little over a month ago, at the Mulu Marriot Hotel & Spa.  Having just “endured” the wild Borneo jungle along the Kinabatangan River in Sabah (I say “endured” because I was attacked by leeches, among other critters, but have put it in quotes because the truth is I enjoyed every minute of the experience!), I decide that I have had enough of roughing it and am looking forward to a comfy bed at the end of each day of trekking through Mount Mulu National Park. (A separate post on this incredible experience is forthcoming.) Mulu is an interesting place, and well deserves its UNESCO World Heritage status. But after a particularly strenuous trek, I am disappointed because the “Spa” part of the name refers to a building – with no therapists in it. I am slightly miffed because, truth be told, the Spa part was one of the more compelling reasons why I chose this particular hotel. However, learning that my next stop would be one night at the Miri Marriott Hotel & Spa, the staff kindly contacted the Spa on my behalf to ensure that I had a booking there upon my arrival.

Another challenge was eating. Every hotel/restaurant in Mulu is faced with the same challenge – supply. Food is flown in daily from Miri (explaining the giant Styrofoam coolers on the baggage carousel at both ends of the journey.) This means frequent shortages – even at the Marriott. However, this is explained cheerfully by the staff, and the kitchen does its best to keep customers happy.

The two things that really stuck out were separate encounters I had with various staff. The first, a young Australian manager involved with the opening of the hotel (recently acquired by Marriott in a rather dilapidated state), told me of how he was assigned to oversee the transition, and that meant staying until the formal opening (the resort is still operating at a “soft opening” stage). His job entailed everything from making sure my water glass and coffee mug were filled at all times, to supervising vegetable buys, to negotiating permits with the local government. No job was to big – or too small – for his attention.

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Gorgeous sunset over the South China Sea at the Miri Marriott Hotel & Spa. Photo by Jennifer Hart

My second encounter was with two young Malaysians who worked at the hotel’s sister property in Miri. They were there to experience the park – in order to be able to report first hand on the itineraries they were booking for guests. While taking their jobs seriously, they also believed in having fun. Doing a final trek before jumping on an afternoon puddle-hopper back to Miri, one of them bemoaned not having packed a bathing suit to enjoy swimming in the aptly-named Clearwater River. After a few minutes’ consideration, she threw caution to the wind and leapt in – clothes and all. “I can sit on a towel” she reported cheerfully. “This was totally worth it.”

Photo courtesy of the JW Marriott Hotel, Medan

Photo courtesy of the JW Marriott Hotel, Medan

My third story is from just last week. At two separate stays at the JW Marriott Hotel Medan, I had two entirely different experiences. My first was a disaster. Check-in took ages, neither the A/C nor the minibar in my room worked, and I called down for ice in an effort to cool down (Medan is many things, and steamy is chief among them!)   The icing on the cake was when a young boy from housekeeping (he looked about 18!) handed me a shopping bag full of ice. “Umm, do you have an ice bucket?” I ask. He looks perplexed for a moment, and then says “No.” I ask whether this was purified ice, and am greeted with a blank stare. “Never mind,” I say. I thank him and send him on his way. At this point I am quite peeved.   It’s no so much that I am frustrated at being at a 5-star hotel with thus far 2-star service – it’s that JW Marriott is supposed to be the hotel’s premier chain! Hardly believing this latest experience, I take a quick photo of the plastic bag with my mobile phone and post it on my personal Twitter feed, tagging Marriott International. Within a few hours I have a reply from their global customer service, apologizing profusely for the experience and asking for me to send a private message with my reservation number. But, I’m ashamed to say, I am heading out to the jungle of Bukit Lawang early the next morning and decide to head to bed instead.

Don't take my word alone -- Jennifer braving the entrance to the jungle of Gunung Leuser National Park.

Don’t take my word alone — Jennifer braving the entrance to the jungle of Gunung Leuser National Park.

After an enjoyable, if grueling four days in the jungle, I am looking forward (somewhat paradoxically) to a hot shower and cold A/C. As I limp into the lobby, the woman at the door smiles brightly and greets me with a “welcome back!” (I had asked her for directions on my previous stay and she clearly remembered me, which impressed me to no end!) I shuffle up to the reception desk where the clerk, who also remembers me, tells me that they had been expecting me the previous day. Stupid me, I had booked the wrong night, forgetting that May has 31 days, not 30. (Yes, I STILL do the knuckle counting trick to calculate the days of the month! But clearly not this time.) Now this was 100% my fault, and it would have been within the hotel’s right to charge me for this erroneous stay AND kick me out that same night. But they didn’t. Not only did they cancel my previous reservation with no penalty – they instantly booked me a new room, noting all of the preferences in my profile, and upgraded me to a suite. Noting my profound embarrassment and profuse apologies, the clerk smiled and told me that this happens more than one would think, and that she was just happy to be able to help me. Wow. Am I glad that I didn’t write a nasty Trip Advisor review about my first stay! So you can bet that Marriott will again be my hotel of choice when I resume business travel next year.

As a wise, if ineloquent person once said, “Shit happens.” But damn if this company doesn’t get it right almost every single time.


A Tale of Two Budget Airlines – Part I of III: AirAsia ASEAN Pass – the Good, the Bad, the Ugly, and How Easy it Is to Lose a Customer for Life

Having just rounded up a two-month journey courtesy of the AirAsia ASEAN pass, I thought it would be timely to reflect both on my experience of using this innovative travel resource, and my occasionally difficult adjustment from business traveler to Weekend Explorer (read, budget traveler.) #firstworldproblems

But before I launch into the tale, I acknowledge that people may not have the time to read a lengthy blog post – let alone three. So here is the key takeaway. Jetstar is the King of Budget Airlines in Asia, I will never fly AirAsia again.

Now on to our story.

First, kudos to AirAsia’s marketing team. They are definitely unsurpassed in the Asian budget airline realm for coming up with innovative and attractive campaigns for the masses – of which I am but one. The AirAsia ASEAN Pass is one such initiative.

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As the first promotion since the fatal Dec. 28 crash of AirAsia 8501 (which killed all 162 people on board enroute from Surabaya to Singapore) it was important for the ASEAN Pass to manifest a vision beyond cheap travel. Thus, Air Asia Group CEO Tony Fernandes explained, in advance of this year’s anticipated ASEAN Economic Community and Open Skies Policy, “the [ASEAN] pass allows us to bridge communities and attract more foreign tourists to the region. It’s the perfect instrument to promote ASEAN integration.”  I should add that I had the privilege of meeting Mr. Fernandes at the World Economic Forum on East Asia in Manila last year, and that we had a charming and witty conversation about Malaysian politics.   I respect him, and his accomplishments, immensely. But would that be enough to save AirAsia this customer?

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 2.43.48 PMBuScreen Shot 2015-06-09 at 2.44.05 PMt I am getting ahead of myself. What was the promotion that launched this saga in the first place? In a nutshell, the AirAsia ASEAN Pass is a pre-purchased travel pass that allows travelers to book air journeys with credits, at least 14 days or more before the departure date to travel to more than 140 routes across ASEAN’s ten member states. Travelers can opt for a 10 credit/ one month pass for MYR 499, or a 20 credit / two month pass MYR 888. The clock starts counting down from the first day of travel, not date of purchase. The two step process works as follows.

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As a relatively early adopter, I was able to capitalize on a number of advantages from the 20 credit pass. This worked for me primarily because of my own scheduling flexibility. At my time of purchase, eligible flights below two hours were valued at one credit, while flights of two hours and above were valued at three credits. However, the number of one credit flights has decreased since then, as has flight availability. (Non-Malaysian travelers may be able to take advantage on the ringgit’s recent drop vis-à-vis the USD and still enjoy discounted travel benefits.)

I took four separate (AMAZING) trips with the pass – Singapore, Borneo (Kota Kinabalu, Sandakan, Bandar Seri Begawan, Miri and Kuching), North Sumatra (Medan), and Kuala Lumpur. There were some minor hiccups here and there (mostly due to fluctuating availability and the unpredictable performance of the AirAsia website). But the REAL nightmare happened on the final leg of the journey – prompting me to write this post.

Challenges began when, as usual, I tried to pre-book 20k of check-in luggage for each leg of the journey. (I’d had no problems booking Singapore and Borneo, but Medan and Kuala Lumpur were proving to be a huge headache.) It just WASN’T working, no matter what I did. So I tried to get in touch with AirAsia customer service to resolve this seemingly benign issue.

Attempt 1: Live Chat

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 5.29.21 PMAir Asia’s live chat option is a great, cost effective way to communicate with irate/frustrated customers – in theory. The challenges are as follows. First, the queues are horrendous – lasting anywhere from 45 to 90 minutes (in my four attempts over the course of several days, anyway.) Second, if you are not vigilantly at your computer for every waking moment of this time, you instantly lose your place.   (I made the mistake of taking a bathroom break to discover that my computer had gone to sleep and I was kicked out of the queue with only 10 minutes to go!) No problem, this was my fault. So I brilliantly set a movie to play in the background of my laptop to maintain an active connection, and went on with the mundane tasks of the day. FINALLY I got in touch with a representative, who, after learning about my problem, told me that the issue might be with my browser and/or cookies. Now I am not the most IT savvy person (by far) but even I shouldn’t have been THIS dumb. Once I cleared my history as instructed, he told me to close the browser and try again. Great advice – except closing my browser OBVIOUSLY disabled the chat. (Duh!) Now, when you register for the service, they ask for your email address and/or mobile phone number. (I’d included both.) So I waited expectantly for an email to ping or my phone to ring. Neither happened.   I attempt to register for a new chat, only to find the wait time at 95 minutes. FORGET that. So I proceed to option B.

Attempt 2: Indonesia Customer Service Hotline

AirAsiaCustomerServiceI get through to the call center relatively quickly, only to be greeted by someone with barely comprehensible English. (Now keep in mind that I’ve both lived and worked around Europe and Asia, have resided in Indonesia for 18 months, and am pretty good at deciphering different accents.) After a long back and forth, I finally manage to communicate my challenges to him, and he proceeds to pull up all of my upcoming itineraries. “No problem,” he explains, “the luggage is already booked,” which explains why I’ve had challenges trying to pay on the website. “OK,” I reply, “but why isn’t it showing up on my itinerary?” He sends me a new link, and sure enough, the luggage is right there where it should be. Phew – problem solved. Right?

Well, the problem was solved for Jakarta – Medan and Medan – Kuala Lumpur. But on the last leg of my journey, after a lovely lunch with an old friend, I made my way early to the KLIA Ekspress train for the airport , since there are worse places to while away an afternoon than Kuala Lumpur International Airport. But this is where the true trials and service breakdowns begin.

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I check in at a kiosk, and wonder why I have not been given an option to print out baggage tags. Oh well, no problem here – in Medan even though you CAN print out your tags at the kiosk, the ground staff end up ripping them up and printing new ones at the desk. So maybe this is a new security measure. I haul ass to the other end of the airport (for some bizarre reason the kiosks and the baggage drops are at opposite ends of the airport.) With a smile, I put my suitcase on the scale and hand over my travel documents. “Everything is in order with your boarding pass,” she explains, “but you have not pre-booked luggage. So I cannot check your bags in.” “But I have,” I say wearily, and proceed to recount the entire customer service saga to date. “Sorry,” she replies, “but if it’s not in my system, there’s nothing I can do.” “Fair enough,” I say, “but is there a supervisor I can speak with to attempt to resolve this situation?” She directs me to another counter with a long queue.

Forty five minutes later, only two people have been helped – one of whom has been yelling non-stop for 30 minutes. (I initially thought he was a complete jerk, but by the end of my own experience I was slightly more empathetic!) A little over an hour later I finally get through to the representative. “You are in the wrong line,” he tells me, “there are no supervisors here, and you actually need to go to the baggage payment counter over there.” ANOTHER line. At this point, I nearly blow a gasket I have been at this for nearly two hours, and have gotten exactly nowhere.

From arriving at the airport 3.5 hours before my flight, I am now running dangerously close to missing it. He takes one look at my face (at the threshold of bursting into tears, yelling with true rage, or hysterically laughing), and offers to walk me over to the right desk.  (AirAsia staff at KLIA have an odd habit of running around to different posts so I can’t even find the initial representative who sent me on the wild goose chase to begin with!) I explain my problem to him, and he gives me the same reply – if it’s not in THEIR system, there’s nothing they can do. Oh, and there’s something else. Not only is it significantly more expensive to book luggage at the airport – there is a weight limit of 15 kg. So there is a good chance my bag won’t even make it on the flight.

As we walk over to my fourth queue of the day, I explode. (In typical Jennifer fashion, I explain in advance to the representative that I am not angry at him directly and that I appreciate his attempt to help me, but that I am overwhelmed by the obstacles I am facing given a situation that is in no way my fault.) He goes up to the counter and asks his colleague to take care of me, and then returns to his post.

Paradoxically, this is the nicest AirAsia representative I’ve dealt with so far – and this is the point where I get most irritated. Because he tells me the truth. He is very sympathetic to my plight, and agrees that it does not make sense that I would book luggage for three out of the four legs of my journey, and not the fourth. He tells me frankly that this is not the first time this has happened. But there is NOTHING he, or anyone, can do. I tell him step by step what has happened to this point, and he analyzes every misstep.

  • They HAVE been having issues with their website.
  • They do NOT always keep records of customer service interactions. So my strongest point of proof that this was not a problem on my end would become a “my word against theirs” scenario, since all I had on my end was a record from my mobile phone carrier that a call had taken place – but not what was said.
  • There is a strictly enforced 15 kg limit at the airport.
  • I can try to seek recourse after the fact, but nothing is likely to happen.

So here I am, facing missing my flight, throwing out a quarter of the contents of my check-in luggage, or. . .? He tells me that he can give me 1kg “grace” and that I can either pay a steep overweight fee or put some items in my carryon. “But” . . . , I say, being the law/policy-abiding Oregonian that I am, “you have a clear 7kg limit on hand carry luggage. Removing 5 kg of items from my bag will put me way over this.” “No problem,” he says confidentially, “we NEVER weigh hand luggage.”

So the net result – and the net weight on the damn plane – is ultimately the same. But AirAsia has lost a number of customers that day. I am one of them. (As, I’m sure, are some of the others in the “fake” supervisor queue.)

The sad thing is that this could have been resolved so easily. Having been a consultant (arguably one of the more challenging customer service jobs out there), I am truly empathetic to those sitting on the other side of the desk. Where I lose my patience, however, is when systems break down. What could AirAsia have done differently?

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 5.36.35 PMAccountability.  The thing that riled me the most was that at every step of the way, my challenges were someone else’s fault/problem. Not only could no one resolve my relatively minor problem – no one could even direct me on how to fix it.

Empowerment.  When you have ridiculously rigid policies, your customer service representatives end up finding their own ways to cut corners which short-change the airline and do nothing to make a customer feel valued. My check-in luggage issue was a drop in the bucket for AirAsia, but felt like the struggle for my life on my end.

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 5.44.00 PMRecord Keeping. By far the most shocking was the admission that records are not always kept of customer service interactions – and that there is no single CRM system to link the different parts of the chain. Now perhaps Malaysians are by nature less litigious than we Americans, but wouldn’t it simply be good business practice (and common sense!?) to cover one’s tracks?

Screen Shot 2015-06-09 at 5.45.38 PMQuality.  Traveling on a budget airline does not have to feel like a budget experience.   Reflecting on my recent travels with AirAsia, two things stood out. First, I really felt like a meaningless cog in a big machine. If I were a dissatisfied customer, no worries – there a millions of others out there. Second, the quality of the passengers themselves was surprisingly low – by this I mean the seatbelts off up the minute the plane lands and elbow old ladies in the ribs to get bags variety. You get the customers you cultivate. That means fewer of me, and more of them. And who wants that?

Longevity.  In the short run, this philosophy will hold true. For every one of me there are millions more in the wings. But as experiences such as mine are recounted, and, well, experienced on an exponential scale – who is left to ensure the airline’s sustainability? Certainly not the customers with the purchasing power to make a long-term difference on the airline’s bottom line. And that’s just a crying shame. . .

Read the second part of the series, A Tale of Two Budget Airlines –Part II of III: Why Jetstar is the King of Budget Airlines in Asia, here.


Lake Toba: Relaxation and A Tale of Two Beginnings

At the first glimpse of Lake Toba on the winding road to Parapat, one can be forgiven for momentary confusion — is this Indonesia or Switzerland?! Dark blue waters, green hills, and an assortment of church steeples (the Bataks indigenous to the area are predominantly Christian) greet the eye.  Upon reaching the ferry port at Parapat, however, you are undisputedly in Indonesia, with motor bikes, Padang canteens, and a warm and friendly chaos taking over your senses.

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Shameless ferry selfie

I am drawn to the region after no fewer than four jungle excursions in the past month, and look forward to relaxing in a more temperate climate for first time in months.

There is no dearth of accommodation in Tuk Tuk, the main tourist area on Samosir Island — an “Island within in Island” located about an hour’s ferry ride from Parapat.  I’ve chosen the quirky and slightly more upscale Horas Family Home, where I am regaled by stories by the garrulous owner, indulge in not only home cooked, but also home grown/raised food (TOP RATE!!!), and float aimlessly on the lake.  I also enjoy hot showers and access to my own fridge — luxuries I will never take for granted again.

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There are many ways to grill a fish — Scenes from the Horas Family Home Fish Barbecue

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Nature’s spotlight — sun shines through the rain on a late afternoon on Lake Toba

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Paddleboarder and Fisherman cross paths along the southeastern bank of Samosir Island.

This turns out to be a good choice, for even though it is officially the beginning of the dry season in Northern Sumatra — Mother Nature has other plans.  I find the nightly rain drumming on the roof to be very soothing, but with the occasional afternoon squall, I also find myself grateful that there are not many more things to do in Lake Toba than relax.

On my first full day (coincidentally also the driest) I decide to venture out and explore the island.  A walk around Tuk Tuk takes about an hour — but 15 minutes in I cave to the heat and decide to rent a motor bike and helmet (at, I might add, twice the rate of bikes in Lombok!)  With only the most rudimentary of maps, and an occasionally confused Waze / Google Maps GPS combo, I venture out in search of the renowned “Ambarita Stone Chairs.”

While the Romans had thumbs up or thumbs down to determine gladiatorial fate, the pre-Christian Bataks had the stone chairs where they held council.  Whenever an enemy was captured or a local was accused of some misdeed, the elders would invite the rulers of neighboring villages to convene and determine the fate of the victim.  If deemed guilty, the poor soul would be rubbed with garlic and chilli, beheaded, and, er, savored.  (If you are “lucky” you can be selected as part of a “live demonstration” on site.) 

This sounded cool, if somewhat macabre.  I head in the general direction over some seriously steep and rocky roads, and quickly find myself spinning in circles thanks to Waze taking me off course.  (Asking for help is surprisingly useless, even in Indonesian.  For every person who told me to turn left — another would tell me to turn right.).  FINALLY I spot signs for “Famous Ambarita Stone Chairs”, and after parking the motorbike in a shady spot, dutifully sign the registration log and make an IDR 10,000 “donation.”

IMG_4278Climbing a steep, mossy (read, slippery!) staircase carved into the rocky outcrop, I snap pictures of the Batak statues and carvings along the way.   Upon reaching the top, I see no stone chairs in sight.  Could I have missed them?  Carefully making my way down again, I see a miniature set of stone chairs that could have comfortably seated a Council of Elders — were such council comprised of children or dolls.  And this looks NOTHING like the photos I’ve seen online.

IMG_4299 Feeling duped (but also feeling too foolish to confront the man at the registration hut), I get back on the bike and decide to wander a bit further.  Down the road, I see signs for “Huta Siallagan” — the ACTUAL stone chairs.  They are certainly more to scale, and an impressive sight to behold, but the fake Batak village and souvenir market somehow cheapen the overall experience.  So I find my earlier irritation fading, especially considering that as part of my earlier “donation” I was given a rather cute carved keychain as a souvenir.

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The not-so-real miniature stone chairs.

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The much more reasonably-sized stone chairs.

I gained three key takeaways from this little adventure (misadventure?).  First, given that this was the historical highlight of Samosir, I would not feel guilty for spending the rest of my stay taking in the scenery at my own, VERY SLOW pace.
Second, even though one was officially a mistake, I was quite happy to appreciate the two different sites from an aesthetic perspective, especially when not ascribing any particular historical importance to either. Third and most importantly, I realized that it was the story, more than the site, that appealed to me.  One of my favorite pastimes is to collect folk and fairy tales from around the world.  So, over the next sleepy couple of days in Lake Toba, I greatly enjoyed learning two tales of creation behind this very special place.

Version 1:  The Batak Legend of Samosir

Once upon a time, there was a young farmer named Toba. He lived in a fertile valley and while by far not a rich man, he was able to support himself by growing crops.

One day, Toba awoke with a craving for fish, and headed to a nearby river with his fishing pole in tow. The river was usually teeming with fish, but on that strange day, not a single one was in sight.  Just as he was preparing to leave (with great disappointment) he snared a big fish. As he slowly reeled it in, he was surprised to hear a voice pleading with him to let the fish go.  Looking around, he saw no one.  He then realized that the fish itself was speaking to him. 

Astounded, Toba released the fish back into the river.  Suddenly the fish transformed into beautiful young woman. The woman explained that she was actually a princess who had been cursed to live out her life as a fish. In gratitude to the young farmer for breaking her curse, the princess  said that she would happily become his wife under one condition — he must never tell a soul about her previous life as a fish.  If he did not heed this condition, she warned, a terrible tragedy would befall him. 

Toba and the princess were happily married, and soon after she gave birth to a baby boy, whom they named Samosir. Samosir had a tremendous appetite. In a perpetual state of hunger, he would devour all the food on the table without leaving his parents a single morsel to eat.

One day, Samosir was sent to bring food to his father who was busy working in the fields. Absentmindedly he began nibbling at the delicious meal that his mother had packed.  Toba was both famished and tired after a hard day’s work, but discovered that was no food left for him to eat. In a fit of rage, he lashed out at the boy, calling him a son of a fish.

Crying, Samosir ran home and asked his mother if he really was a son of a fish. Shocked and saddened, the princess told the boy to climb the to the top of the tallest tree on the hill behind their home.  Hurrying to the river bank where she and Toba first met, the princess suddenly disappeared.

The sky turned black as night, and thunder, lightning and heavy rain besieged the valley, causing a great flood.  The water levels continued to rise until the valley was no more — it had turned into a large lake.  The hill became an island, named after its sole survivor, Samosir.  Legend has it that Samosir is the father of the Batak people of North Sumatra.  Toba, the harbinger of disaster, is commemorated by the lake which today bears his name.  Of the princess, sadly, nothing remains. 

Version 2:  Science Stuff

Lake Toba and Samosir Island were formed after the eruption of a supervolcano some 75,000 years ago.  Due to its unique topology, Samosir is quite possibly the only place in the world where you can both stand on an island on an island (The island of Samosir in Lake Toba on the Island of Sumatra) and swim in a lake on a lake (Lake Sidihoni on Samosir on Lake Toba)

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Quick Facts

  • Lake Toba is the largest volcanic lake in the world, and is one of approximately 20 recognized “supervolcanoes” in the world.
  • The lake was formed after a massive eruption approximately 74,000 years ago, believed by scientists to be the largest volcanic eruption of the past 2.5 million years
  • Ash from the eruption has been found as far away as Lake Malawi, Africa
  • The Toba Catastrophe Theory posits that the last eruption was so severe that it led to an ice age, and wiped out most of our prehistoric ancestors in everywhere but Africa, creating a “genetic bottleneck” explaining the origins of the human race stemming from that continent.
  • However, the above theory is being increasingly discredited as new science comes to light
  • The North-South Sumatra fault line, which bisects Sumatra, runs through Mount Toba.
  • In theory, any activity along this fault line could trigger another Toba eruption.
  • Samosir is the largest island on an island, and the fifth largest lake island in the world
  • Samosir was originally a peninsula, connected to mainland Sumatra by a small isthmus

I think both versions are pretty interesting — which one do you prefer?