We organized another "travel" to get us from Lahat to Bengkulu.

Travel drivers all seem worried about where to take foreigners for lunch, and hugely relieved when you say you really like Indonesian food, and will eat anything anywhere. They all have their fund of stories about the person who could only eat bread because anything else made him sick, or the person who insisted on being taken to California Fried Chicken...

This driver made a massive deal about having foreigners on board, and not only took still selfies, but also made a selfie-movie with us sitting in the back... I'm not expecting any Oscars...

The journey to Bengkulu (230 km) took a full seven hours. A combination of rough roads, narrow roads, and slow trucks kept the average speed to 35 km per hour...

But the scenery was again fantastic, and I enjoyed watching hundreds more of those wonderful wooden houses go by (while envying the people in those cool, breezy upstairs spaces). As we'd seen the previous day, many had coffee or rice drying out front.



Bengkulu introduces itself with a huge lake (Danau Dendam Tak Sudah), around which sets of chairs are arranged invitingly.

That sets the tone for a most pleasant city. The traffic is much less intrusive than it is in many Southeast Asian cities; the central streets are tree-lined; there are food stalls everywhere, rising to a crescendo in the evening; there are a few sophisticated coffee places (we particularly liked Edu Coffee); and overall, there's a nice vibe. It's also been good for my research (and you can't always guarantee these things in advance).

There was still a little more attention than I would ideally choose (am I getting more sensitive...?), but it was not nearly so intense as in Palembang and Lahat.

One negative to note: Don't choose any hotel close to the Friday Mosque, as belting music makes it insanely noisy at night (and well into the early hours of the morning on occasion...)

Anyway, Bengkulu primarily figures in the history books for two things: it was, for a while, a startlingly unsuccessful part of the British empire, and Sukarno (who later became Indonesia's first president) was, for a while, exiled here.

The former theme is represented by Fort Marlborough (well preserved/restored, and a very pleasant place to while away a few hours); the monument to the unfortunate Parr (whose ill-conceived efforts to crank up the profitability of the British trading post obviously pushed some people over the brink); and the English cemetery (where simple houses have sprung up on the edges of the space occupied by the colonial dead).



















A fascinating footnote to this history is represented by Benkulu's annual tabot ceremony, which commemorates the death of the Prophet Mohammad's grandson, Imam Husayn, at Karbala in 680. The tradition was brought to Bengkulu by the South Asians imported by the British colonizers. It's primarily a cultural festival, involving all sections of the community. Nevertheless, it is a fascinating hangout, given the often hostile attitudes to Shi'i versions of Islam in Indonesia. We had noticed the fairy-tale-reminiscent little towers that can be found all over the city, but didn't realize till we visited the Provincial Museum that they represent the tabot "towers" that are carried in procession every year.







(The museum visit was another of those slightly farcical experiences. We arrived at precisely the same time as thousands of tiny, green-and-yellow-clad children and their parents/teachers. So, of course, many photos were required... It was actually the adults who wanted the photos. The kids preferred to stare at us rather than the camera, so it was only by dint of much cajoling and rearranging that the photographers avoided getting a picture of the backs of lots of children's heads...)



The Sukarno theme can also be glimpsed in Fort Marlborough, but is mostly traceable through the delightfully airy house where he was exiled; the cute little wooden home of Fatmawati, his third wife; and various buildings that he designed and/or renovated (including the Friday Mosque in the centre of town).



















But Bengkulu is more than history.

The seaside -- where desperate colonials once scanned the ocean for ships they thought could take them home -- is today a beautiful retreat from the city, with a long jogging track running alongside the ocean.









The city also rejoices in a number of other photogenic features, ranging from picturesque mosques and houses to zany beachcomber collections to curious monuments.













There wasn't time for much culinary exploration, but firsts included es bubur sumsum, and fantastic Padang food from Sederhana. And we learnt that (savoury martabak) is known here as martabak telur, while terang bulan (sweet martabak) is described as martabak bangka...

I'd like to come back (familiar refrain). I'd like to come back when I don't have research and other work to do, when we can hire a motorbike to explore the environs, when we can visit the tabot ceremony, and when, relieved of my arm casing, I can boat and swim with impunity. May it be...