Some Like It Hot.

In Indonesian there are two words for hot - panas and pedas, which better represent the difference between the English words hot (temperature) and hot (spicy). Out here in the Alor islands the two feel like they have been mixed together with a mortar and pestle, creating the sort of heat that makes you feel like your whole body is being smeared with freshly blended chillies while being roasted in an oven.

There is no escape from the heat either, don't think that just because we are bobbing around in kayaks on the ocean we can just jump in for a refreshing dip. We have no qualms about launching into the deep for the occasional splash around, a snorkel over some brilliant reef, or even to release some internal alimentary pressure, but none of these activities could be considered to be refreshing in water that is, we predict, well over 30˚C.

The searing rays of the sun, and a lack of much wind helped to sway our decision to get off the water today earlier than we had planned. We literally felt like we were being deep fried. Fortunately we were able to persuade a small herd of goats to relinquish their shady spot at the back of a rocky beach and we settled in for a day of limited movement, reading books and playing cards, as any form of activity caused our bodies to leak valuable fluids profusely from every pore.

What we failed to notice, stupidly considering we have spent the last 6 months living on tropical beaches, was that the tree above us was not a complete canopy, and small rays of sunshine must have been getting through to us. We both felt the glow of sunburn at about the same time, too late to apply sunscreen but too early in the day not to. A quick dip did nothing to cool us and we rapidly covered up in sunsmart gear for the remainder of the afternoon. As I write, in the 'cool' of the evening, a pool of sweat sits below each of my elbows. Oh, what I would give for a fan.

Despite the heat the paddling has been beautiful. Towering volcanoes jut from the sea like the huge pyramids of some ancient and forgotten race (perhaps it was the hobbits from Flores) while the vertical walls of coral that form the edge of the volcanic massifs plunge away into a bottomless abyss. Water that is so clear we can see every detail of the fish 10m below from our kayaks, teems with life and everything from turtles to whales have surfaced to say hello. Lain has the uncanny ability to be hit with flying fish, jumping fish, just about any fish, to the point where if we were keeping score Lain would have retired not out many innings ago.

After several thousand kilometres, we actually feel like we are finally qualified to paddle in Indonesia. We have worked out our food to the point where every day now we have been eating hearty and fulfilling meals (and some instant noodles) and despite the heat we have had no problem sourcing enough water. We even managed to procure a six-pack of cold beer from Seven Seas, a dive boat we had previously bumped into in the Komodo region. Mark the Aussie captain treated us with a care package of cold goodies and, at 10am, the beers went down a treat (Cheers Mark!).

We don't have too far to go and we have plenty of time to get there so fortunately at this stage we are not in a great hurry. We are still not sure which route we are taking, which beaches we will sleep on or even exactly where we are going. We just hope that we haven't been melted, boiled, fried or baked by the time we get there.

Picture: Attempting to cool off in the evening, and enjoying a yummy dinner on another perfect beach.