Post from Tim:
The Lovina dolphin trip vendors used up my patience within five minutes of yesterday's arrival. Standing in packs outside our hotel room, they promised great deals and special prices. I wanted nothing more than a shower to wash away the sweat and dirt from our bus ride, so we waved them away with ambiguous answers.
Later, individual vendors approached us on the beach and on the street. They knocked on our room door, then woke me up from an afternoon nap by the pool. (I know, rough life.) We eventually gave in to their demands and booked a tour with the cheapest guy.
Waking up at 5:30 AM to see dolphins is a bit extreme, but I would have woken up then anyway because of the cacophony outside. Roosters crowed, motorcycles roared, people yelled, children cried, dogs barked, and Germany's worst Elvis impersonator sang the refrain from "Can't Help Falling in Love" at least 20 times from the room next door.
Elvis was especially loud, as his voice echoed over the thin baffle separating our bathrooms.
We arrived to the beach before sunrise, where an endless line of white dugout canoes stretched across the sand. Our boat looked very similar to the others. It held just four passengers and a captain. The hull was thick and heavy, yet carved just wide enough to seat one passenger. Two angled arms reached over each side holding a bamboo outrigger. The outriggers made the other boats seem spider-like as they skittered across water.
We launched our boat and followed the pack out to sea. Minutes later, the sun rose from behind the hazy mountains and reflected brilliant orange rays off the glassy water. I admired the view only for a minute, my attention diverted to the spectacle up ahead. A tangle of boats raced haphazardly around in circles looking for dolphins. We entered the confusion in our boat and began to look.
Then it happened - someone spotted them. Over thirty-five boats turned and raced toward the poor animals. The dolphins played for a minute and disappeared. The cycle continued over and over again for 30 minutes: dolphins sited, dolphins chased by crazy tourists, dolphins vanished. I enjoyed the absurdity of the hunt more than seeing the dolphins themselves, even when we became the lead boat and saw them up close.
When we returned back to the hotel after a short snorkel trip, we were again serenaded by Elvis.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in...."
Later, individual vendors approached us on the beach and on the street. They knocked on our room door, then woke me up from an afternoon nap by the pool. (I know, rough life.) We eventually gave in to their demands and booked a tour with the cheapest guy.
Waking up at 5:30 AM to see dolphins is a bit extreme, but I would have woken up then anyway because of the cacophony outside. Roosters crowed, motorcycles roared, people yelled, children cried, dogs barked, and Germany's worst Elvis impersonator sang the refrain from "Can't Help Falling in Love" at least 20 times from the room next door.
Elvis was especially loud, as his voice echoed over the thin baffle separating our bathrooms.
We arrived to the beach before sunrise, where an endless line of white dugout canoes stretched across the sand. Our boat looked very similar to the others. It held just four passengers and a captain. The hull was thick and heavy, yet carved just wide enough to seat one passenger. Two angled arms reached over each side holding a bamboo outrigger. The outriggers made the other boats seem spider-like as they skittered across water.
We launched our boat and followed the pack out to sea. Minutes later, the sun rose from behind the hazy mountains and reflected brilliant orange rays off the glassy water. I admired the view only for a minute, my attention diverted to the spectacle up ahead. A tangle of boats raced haphazardly around in circles looking for dolphins. We entered the confusion in our boat and began to look.
Then it happened - someone spotted them. Over thirty-five boats turned and raced toward the poor animals. The dolphins played for a minute and disappeared. The cycle continued over and over again for 30 minutes: dolphins sited, dolphins chased by crazy tourists, dolphins vanished. I enjoyed the absurdity of the hunt more than seeing the dolphins themselves, even when we became the lead boat and saw them up close.
When we returned back to the hotel after a short snorkel trip, we were again serenaded by Elvis.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in...."