AMBON - Lonely traveler, the beautiful scenery
Weekend has come, which occurred in the head as it is with all the beautiful beaches of Ambon.
Midnite journey from Soekarno Hatta Airport direct to Pattimura Airport is within 4 hours more.
Already arrived to pick up a rental car to lead me to enjoy the beautiful Ambon. Laha village became the first place I started hunting photos. Located not far from the airport.
continue my journey to the hotel to shower and breakfast. and then I go on a trip to the famous beach Natsepa dense salad with peanut sauce.
Next I go to the santay beach , my eyes there is not free from such a beautiful beach scenery
Chasing the Sunset
Rainbow in sight
Port of Ambon @nite
from coast to another beach and then the Liang Beach renowned for its blue water and beautiful white sand.
Doors City (PINTU KOTA) , Located in the Village Latuhalat , Ambon. About 30 minutes from downtown Ambon. The beauty of the towering rocksand set up a unique a gate that is what attracted many foreign and local tourists come to visit here.
Ambon …. Someday I‘ll be back to enjoy the beauty of others …
DAY 3 ... back to Jakarta.
05 - Free The Robots - Lonely Traveler
Free the Robots - Lonely Traveler
Such a spectacular musical sensation. Mmmmm.
“...On Sundays I feel the way Caits writes New York City: like she's moving smooth and easy and light - absorbing the city's energy and moves, letting it fill her up, feeling it, but cool and calm. It's life baby, and it's beautiful...”—@caitsmeissner makes a cameo in a Sunday post.
Looking up as the light shines from your face
Through thousands of years, side stays in its place
You came not from us nor from whence we came
Not one of our family but we gave you a name
Though barren and lonely we love you the same
With others we’ve had competitions and games
We told them all we were first to embrace your skin
Fact is we told them whatever it took for a win…
We’re sorry we lied but we had complications
An invisible wall we reached with no indication
But we’ve been in touch since then and they need not know
They’ve already paid for the tickets and they’ve already left the show
Now we’ll share you with the others for the time being
In this agreement we’ve made for the good things they’re bringing
Apologize for the additions we’ve made to your shell
But we had no other options, for peace, or so we’ll soon tell…
They’ll believe it no matter for we gave them what they want
Piece of mind and a lie that keeps them all nonchalant
Soon all will be ready for they’re rapture to come
Not knowing we’ll have them right under our thumb
We’ll keep saying your the reason for keeping the tide
One day we’ll be with you and for my last days reside…
As the night comes to an end and as I say my goodbye
I look up at the artificial spaceship residing in the sky…
- Elvis Dino Esquivel
The Lonely Traveler
From a day in May 2012:
A few years back I attended a reading cum musical performance at Zanbroz Variety Store, Fargo, ND. My former professor and now colleague didn’t feel like reading from his new book of poetry, 31 Mornings in December, so he had local jazz trio play and read each of his very small poems. I was back in Fargo after studying a year-long master’s degree in Bath, England. Of course, as any good student does, I had Thom sign my copy. He did so graciously with that Italian American smile of his that says swagger, charm and joy all at once. He paused for a moment, and flipped through the book. He wrote a number along with his name and the mandatory best wishes, which is something more like “tight lines” for him. The corresponded with this: “These raindrops:/Lonely travelers in winter.”
Today Thom is probably scaling the cliffs of Moher, having a Guinness in Dublin with James Joyce or kissing the Blarney Stone to obtain the gift of gab, while I sit in a Cosi Café in Center City Philadelphia mourning the loss of a man who hasn’t exactly left me yet. Lonely traveler, indeed.
I should be on the day and a half bus ride back to Fargo to meet my new (and first) nephew. I should be writing the essays I know must be written for my current graduate program in Chicago. I should be gearing up for my study trip to Prague dreaming of the day someone will pay me to go on these trips, but I am sitting here paralyzed with – something. I want to feel something good from this. I want to believe that I didn’t make a terrible choice in a man. That I didn’t spend six months too long believing he might be good again. Believing he might be who he says he is, rather than the person he acts like. I came to the city center to do something on my own and most importantly to get out of his apartment. I couldn’t sit there alone, dreading his arrival home and wondering what he didn’t want me. Why he would rather flirt with twenty year olds. Or worse, how many of which he was flirting with right then rather than having a nice chat with me while I was hanging at his apartment.
I aimed for Starbucks but Cosi was in my sights off the train and I like their food better. I have never felt more alone, and thus I embark on my lot in life: the lonely traveler; intelligent but unsophisticated; fascinated but unadventurous; a sob, sob mess over failed attempts at relationships and blasé about butterflies. I will write to you from cafes around the world or from your own front porch. I will provide travel advice and travel stories. I crave experience and a paycheck. Most of all, I want women to know they can do things on their own. So, here it is: Lonely Traveler.