Untold Miles - Chapter 8 – Welcome to Paradise! Life Without Wi-Fi, Electricity... and Stress
Today was the day we had been waiting for ever since we started planning this trip.
Togean Islands.
Three nights.
Four days.
Crystal-clear water.
Remote island life.
No crowds.
No rush.
Just us... and paradise.
Goodbye Dadang, See You Again!
The morning began with another delicious breakfast, specially prepared a little earlier than usual because we had to leave for the port.
Before checking out, we spent a few minutes chatting with Dadang, taking photographs together and thanking him for making our stay at Triple R Homestay so memorable.
Some hosts simply provide you with a room.
Dadang made us feel like family.
If you're ever travelling through Ampana...
Don't think twice.
Stay there.
You'll thank me later.
Soon Wati and Agunk arrived to pick us up, and within ten minutes we were standing at the small passenger port.
Boarding Time!
The morning sun had already decided to remind us that we were very close to the equator.
It was HOT.
Really hot.
A passenger speedboat was waiting near the jetty.
There were around twenty passengers travelling to different islands.
One by one, our names were checked, and each passenger received a small green box.
Now...
Nobody told us what was inside.
But every traveller instantly knew.
"Food!"
Some mysteries don't need explaining.
Our luggage was carefully loaded onto the roof of the boat and covered with a blue tarpaulin.
No boarding announcements.
No "Cabin crew, prepare for departure."
The captain simply started the engine.
That was everyone's signal.
We were officially on our way to paradise.
The Dolphin Curse... Finally Broken!
The sea was unbelievably calm.
Honestly, it didn't even feel like the ocean.
It felt more like sailing across a giant blue lake.
As the boat picked up speed, the breeze became stronger, and before long our hair looked like we'd just walked out of a wind tunnel.
I quietly stared through the little window.
Every person travelling by boat secretly wishes for one thing.
"Dolphins."
We certainly did.
The funny thing is...
We've actually paid for dolphin-watching tours in the past.
Guess what happened?
No dolphins.
Not even one.
Either the dolphins were on holiday...
...or we'd been spectacularly unlucky.
So this time, I didn't keep my expectations too high.
About thirty minutes into the journey, someone sitting across from us suddenly shouted,
"Dolphin!"
Every head inside the boat turned in the same direction.
For about ten magical seconds...
There they were.
Two.
Maybe three.
Gracefully jumping out of the water before disappearing back into the sea.
And just like that...
They vanished.
I secretly hoped they'd race alongside the boat like they do in documentaries.
Nope.
They had clearly finished their performance.
One jump.
One appearance.
Mic drop.
Still...
After years of unsuccessful dolphin trips...
I'll happily take ten seconds.
First Sight of Poya Lisa
Roughly ninety minutes later, the boat slowed down.
Ahead of us appeared a tiny island.
Home to just one resort.
Poya Lisa.
The moment we stepped onto the wooden jetty, we stopped walking.
Crystal-clear turquoise water.
Hundreds of colourful fish swimming beneath the jetty.
White sand.
Palm trees.
Wooden cottages scattered along the shoreline and perched on small cliffs.
It genuinely felt like someone had dropped a slice of the Maldives into Sulawesi.
Only...
Far fewer tourists.
Far more peaceful.
The staff welcomed us with huge smiles before offering us tea and coffee while they completed the check-in.
We hadn't even reached our room yet.
And we were already in love with the place.
Welcome to Island Reality
Our beach cottage couldn't have been better.
Step outside...
Sand.
Sea.
Paradise.
Inside, the room was beautifully simple.
A large bed.
Mosquito net.
Open ventilation.
One standing fan.
No ceiling fan.
The humidity was already making us sweat, so naturally...
The very first thing I did was switch on the fan.
Nothing.
Maybe the plug?
No.
Different socket?
Still nothing.
The engineer inside me immediately woke up.
Unplug.
Plug again.
Small tap on the motor.
Slightly bigger tap.
Nothing.
The fan was officially retired.
I walked over to the staff.
"Excuse me... I think the fan isn't working."
The reply?
"We don't have electricity."
Fair enough.
"When will it come back?"
"Five o'clock."
Wait...
Five o'clock today?
"Yes."
That's when reality finally arrived.
On Togean Islands, electricity is available only from 5 PM until 10 PM.
Silence.
My brain took a few moments to process this information.
No electricity during the day.
No air-conditioning.
Barely any mobile signal.
Probably no internet either.
For a moment...
City life inside us panicked.
Then we looked at each other.
Challenge accepted.
Learning to Slow Down
With nothing else to do, we simply started walking around the island.
There wasn't much to explore.
Which, strangely enough...
Was exactly the beauty of it.
Butterflies floated between flowers.
My wife happily chased them.
Meanwhile...
I pretended to be equally excited.
(Butterflies and I have never shared the same level of enthusiasm.)
We walked from one end of the island to the other.
Eventually we spotted another occupied cottage.
Good.
At least we weren't the only guests here.
Lunch... and an Unexpected Friendship
Around noon, a bell rang.
Lunch time.
We headed to the dining area where another traveller was already eating.
We smiled politely and joined him.
That simple decision turned into one of the nicest friendships of the trip.
His name was Marco.
From Italy.
Travelling solo.
Lunch consisted of grilled fish, vegetables, tofu and sambal.
Excellent, as always.
Conversations started with the usual travel questions.
"Where are you from?"
"How long are you staying?"
"What have you seen so far?"
Within minutes we were discussing travel, India, Italy, life, cultures and everything in between.
Marco casually mentioned that every afternoon he swam across to another island...
Just for fun.
We stared at him.
"You actually swim across?"
He smiled.
"It's easy."
Easy?
He was in his early sixties.
Probably fitter than both of us.
Together.
After nearly an hour of chatting, we promised to meet again during dinner.
As we walked back to our cottage, I said,
"This island has forced us to slow down."
No internet.
Almost no phone signal.
No electricity.
Nothing to distract us.
Just time.
It felt strangely refreshing.
The First Flight
Back at the cottage, my wife quickly claimed the hammock.
Within minutes...
She was peacefully asleep.
I tried sitting on a chair facing the sea.
Few minutes later...
I remembered something.
The drone.
This was going to be its very first flight.
After watching countless YouTube tutorials during the trip, it was finally time.
I unpacked everything carefully, found a quiet stretch of beach and pressed the take-off button.
Woke my co-pilot from sleep , to control the take off
Up it went.
Smoothly.
Gracefully.
No crashes.
No drama.
As the drone climbed higher, the island revealed itself from above.
Wow.
The colours.
The reef.
The tiny cottages.
It looked even more beautiful from the sky.
Then...
I realised something.
I had forgotten to press the record button.
Classic beginner mistake.
Thankfully I noticed in time, started recording and captured some incredible footage before bringing the drone safely back.
First flight.
Successful landing.
Pilot & co pilot officially promoted.
A Village Without Screens
Around 4:30 PM, Wati and Agunk invited us to visit the nearby fishing village.
A tiny wooden boat carried us across the calm sea.
As soon as we arrived, villagers welcomed us with warm smiles.
Clearly Wati was well known here.
She introduced us to everyone in Bahasa (language) Indonesia.
We only understood one word during her conversations.
"India."
We guessed she was proudly telling everyone where her guests had come from.
The village was small enough to explore on foot.
At one point Wati pointed towards a house.
"That's where Poya Lisa lives."
The island resort was actually named after its owner.
She works as a nurse in mainland and occasionally visits guests in the evenings.
Further along the village road we found piles of durians.
Agunk's eyes immediately lit up.
He bought a few without thinking twice.
Some people collect souvenirs.
Agunk collects durians.
Life Before Notifications
We climbed to a small hill overlooking the sea.
The view was breathtaking.
Families sat outside their homes talking to each other.
Children played.
Nobody stared at a mobile phone.
Nobody scrolled endlessly.
Nobody seemed to be in a hurry.
It made us realise just how connected we've become to our screens.
Sometimes...
Disconnecting is exactly what we need.
Fishing is the main livelihood here.
We saw huge squids and live lobsters resting in buckets of seawater, waiting to be sold.
Simple life.
Happy faces.
Beautiful memories.
When Darkness Arrives Early
As sunset approached, we returned to the island.
From the boat we could see tiny lights slowly appearing inside the cottages.
Electricity had arrived.
Never before had I been so excited to see a light bulb working.
Back in our room we quickly freshened up.
There was just enough mobile signal to send one message home.
"We're safe."
Mission accomplished.
Dinner was served at seven.
Marco joined us again, and our conversations somehow wandered through travel, religion, cultures, life philosophies and world affairs.
Some topics are best left at the dinner table.
Highly confidential.
Hollywood Night
Halfway through dinner, a cool breeze arrived.
Then...
Tiny drops of rain.
Within minutes...
A tropical downpour.
We shifted from one table to another, trying to escape the wind-blown rain.
And then...
Darkness.
Complete darkness.
The electricity went off.
Thunder echoed across the sea.
The village lights disappeared.
For a few seconds, everything around us became pitch black.
Suddenly every survival movie I'd ever watched came rushing into my head.
Cast Away.
Every island movie imaginable.
The staff calmly handed us flashlights.
Apparently this happens quite often.
Whenever heavy rain arrives, they temporarily switch off the electricity for safety.
Fair enough.
I had only one concern.
"I hope they add this lost electricity time after 10 PM."
Sadly...
Nobody seemed interested in negotiating.
Luckily, just as I'd experienced throughout Sulawesi, the heavy rain didn't last very long.
The lights returned.
Dinner was served.
Fresh fish.
Vegetables.
Another fantastic meal.
Back in our cottage, we immediately plugged in every device we owned.
Phones.
Drone batteries.
Power bank.
Anything that needed charging.
When electricity is available for only five hours...
You become an expert at prioritising chargers.
The breeze outside had become wonderfully cool.
The fan was finally spinning.
Mission accomplished.
We climbed into bed, hoping to fall asleep before the island switched itself off once again.
Tomorrow...
Paradise was waiting outside our doorstep.