I’m staring out the bus window with a deep, unwavering frown on my face. The lush Andes are rolling by in their full green glory, but I’m too far gone to care. I know I’m surrounded by staggering beauty—I can see it, even—but I can’t bring myself to feel anything close to awe. The high altitude, the endless winding, and the dramatic ups and downs of these Ecuadorian mountain roads have conspired to create the worst wave of nausea I’ve ever experienced.
I try to dig deep. To find comfort in the knowledge that I’ve survived this feeling before. But when was the last time I felt this awful?
Ah yes… Sulawesi. Over a year ago. The never-ending journey to the Togean Islands.
It all comes back to me in painful, cinematic detail: a 16-hour drive through hairpin mountain turns with a driver who had clearly partied all night and was fighting to stay awake; a night in a cockroach-infested hotel conveniently located next to a karaoke bar in full swing; a 4 hour-morning boat ride across choppy waters filled with fellow travelers vomiting into plastic bags; and just when you thought it was over—surprise!—another boat ride to reach the final stop: Kadidiri Paradise.
And yes—paradise it was.
I close my eyes and try to drift away from the bus and the nausea. My mind slips back to the Togeans, to that unspoiled little corner of the world.
There was not much to do on these islands. No phone reception, no internet—just a total, glorious digital detox. Our days there unfolded at a different rhythm. We snorkeled straight off the beach into water so clear it felt like swimming through glass.
We saved coral from the “evil†crown-of-thorns starfish, those alien-like predators that destroy reefs.
We read novels in hammocks and daydreamed into the sea breeze.
We scuba-dived dramatic sites like Una Una, an active underwater volcano teeming with life.
We floated in a lake filled with non-stinging jellyfish, a surreal, silent ballet of translucent bodies.
And each evening, we sipped on overpriced beers (every sip worth it) as the sun melted into the horizon with a show of colors I still dream about.
The journey to the Togeans was rough. No doubt about it. But some paradises need to be earned. And when you finally arrive, aching, salty, sleep-deprived, and wide-eyed—it’s all the sweeter.
If you ever decide to make that journey yourself, here’s a bit of wisdom from someone who made the rookie mistakes so you don’t have to:
Snacks are gold. Kadidiri Paradise has exactly one tiny shop, selling Pringles and a few other bits you’ll grow tired of in 48 hours. Pack your favourite munchies, and maybe even sneak in a bottle of booze to mix your own beachside cocktails.
Entertainment is key. Bring a book—or three. A notebook, some games, a frisbee, a deck of cards, a beach ball… you’ll be happy to have them between swims and sunset beers.
Have you ever done a digital detox? Would you need one?
The post “Journey to the Togean island, Indonesia” first appeared on Travel Cake.
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