10 Short Stories

San Francisco (Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair)

(I have on purpose put this story as the last as I would want all the events around me and my friends to end beautifully; as beautifully as the song...)

July 2004. Indonesia.

I was on Gili Trawangan, which is not far from Bali, Indonesia. It is a tiny little island with no motorized transport but possesses some excellent beaches and corals. I was there, an island that would take probably an hour and a half to circumnavigate by foot, taking a break after cycling Sumatra-Java-Bali.

Gili Trawangan is an idyllic island where horse-drawn carriages was the only form of transport and its main attractions were watching the sunset from a little hill, lying on the fine sand and snorkeling.

To me, it was a good getaway from my cycling as the spartan and sparsely populated Sumatra (and of a lesser extent, Java) had taken a toll on me.

It was here where I met Sadej Lucas and Lang Marjorie. The French were here, like me, to drown in the serenity of the island. Our days were simple, we would spend the daylight hours over hour-long breakfasts and later on the silk-like sand. The evenings and late nights would have us over bottles of Bintang. We enjoyed each other's companionship for those days we spent together over long chats at John Le Fevre's bar.

(sometime in 2005, John was thrown into jail as his local business partner had unsurprisingly colluded with the local authorities to cheat him of his worth! John had been a journalist before and had done assignments in Singapore. Once, he had brought Durian into the snobbish 5-star Raffles Hotel which promptly evicted him. He did agree with me that our national fruit should be allowed on our MRT, I then told him that if he (since he has blonde hair and a sharp nose) wrote to our authorities to protest the ban- the impact would be greater than if it were from any local)

We then parted with me going back to Bali to continue my cycling while the well-traveled French went for a multi-day snorkeling trip in the area.

No contacts were exchanged.

July 2005. India.

I was in Leh, north India after my cycling trip with Andreas and Jassman through Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, China, Pakistan, and later India. The Germans had gone home days ago and I had subsequently teamed up with a Swiss couple and a Canadian to finish up in Leh, the capital of Ladakh, India.

The few of us were sitting in the late afternoon sun, enjoying the crisp mountain air of Leh in the courtyard of the tiny little unassuming Rinchen guesthouse that had probably 8 rooms at 200 Rupees/person.

Then Lucas Sadej and Marjorie Lang walked in! My first question to them was whether they were still traveling and their first to me was if I was still cycling.

It was just amazing. Do you believe in probability?

When we were on Gili Trawangan, we were pretty much shut off from the outside world owing to its inaccessibility. Here, in Leh, as if destined, the monsoon rains came, bridges were swept away, and it was closed to all flights and land transport for days.

The French and I again spent few days together, over pots of tea at this little restaurant while it drizzled nonstop for days.

One evening, the French organized a little party in their room at the Asia Hotel for me and the Canadian. Over activities that I cannot describe here (as the details would put that of Paris Hilton's to shame) we listened to 2 very old (but good) English songs; San Francisco (Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair) by Scott McKenzie and John Denver's Take Me Home Country Road.

I have attached the links to the beautiful songs here;

San Francisco (Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair)

Take Me Home Country Road

The songs were released years before the French and I were born, but it did not matter. They were simply beautiful songs. At times, I was thinking that my cycling trips were as much characterized by people as by songs.

In Leh, this time round, we exchanged contacts.

March 2006. Singapore.

The French were traveling in South East Asia and came to Singapore for a duration of probably less than 48 hours if I counted correctly. At their little guesthouse on Armenian Street where we celebrated with whiskey and later beer, they put on the song, San Francisco for me again.

During our conversation, they said to me, what my kayaking partner, Richard, would later, in April 2006 (while en-route to UK) also say to me, that they would not come to Singapore if I were not living here.

I am not sure, when we will be able to get together and listen to the song again. I had told the French that it might be possible for us to meet and perhaps travel together in 3 years time. They had suggested cycling!

When the French were here I had brought them to a little roadside coffee shop in Geylang for steamboat fish head prior to taking Richard there a month later. I might just bring the Darwin-ers there this December "06.