Leaving Jakarta Behind
After days of exploring Jakarta—wandering through Kota Tua's colonial streets, indulging in street food at Glodok (Jakarta's Chinatown), and uncovering hidden gems like the quiet alleys of Menteng, Ethan knew it was time to move on.
The hustle of the capital had its charm, but the call of Indonesia's wild beauty was irresistible. He had seen the skyscrapers, the traffic jams, and the city's sleepless energy. Now, he craved open horizons, untouched nature, and a place where time moved slower.
Komodo National Park had been on his mind for days. He had read about its prehistoric-looking Komodo dragons, its surreal pink-sand beaches, and its breathtaking underwater world. The contrast between Jakarta's urban jungle and the raw wilderness of Komodo felt like the perfect shift in his journey.
With a one-way ticket in hand, he headed to Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, boarding a domestic flight to Labuan Bajo, the small harbor town that served as the launching point for Komodo's wonders.
Arriving in Labuan Bajo
The moment Ethan stepped off the plane, he felt like he had arrived in a different world.
Jakarta's skyscrapers were replaced by rolling hills covered in lush greenery. The smog and honking traffic were gone, replaced by a salty sea breeze and the distant sound of waves lapping against the shore. The pace was slower, the streets smaller, and the people more relaxed.
Labuan Bajo, though growing in popularity, still had the feel of a quiet fishing town. Small cafes lined the waterfront, offering fresh seafood and spectacular sunset views. Traditional phinisi boats, with their wooden hulls and iconic masts, dotted the harbor, ready to take travelers on island-hopping adventures.
After checking into a modest guesthouse with a view of the ocean, Ethan wasted no time. He walked down to the docks, weaving through groups of backpackers, divers, and local fishermen, searching for a tour operator who could take him into the heart of Komodo National Park.
A friendly local named Budi, whose sun-kissed face and easy smile suggested years spent at sea, greeted him.
"Looking for a boat tour?" Budi asked in English with a thick Indonesian accent.
"Yes, I want to visit Komodo Island, Pink Beach, and some snorkeling spots," Ethan replied.
"Ah, you want the full experience," Budi grinned. "Come, I'll show you the best of Komodo."
Ethan booked a two-day boat tour, which would include Komodo Island, Padar Island, Pink Beach, and several snorkeling spots teeming with marine life. The boat would leave at sunrise.
That night, as he sat on a rooftop bar overlooking Labuan Bajo's glowing harbor, he felt a familiar rush—the excitement of stepping into the unknown.
Tomorrow, he would meet dragons.
Sailing into Komodo National Park
At the break of dawn, Ethan boarded Budi's traditional wooden phinisi boat. The sea was calm, and the rising sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple as they left Labuan Bajo behind.
The boat ride to Komodo Island took around three hours, passing dozens of small, uninhabited islets. Some were covered in golden savanna grass, while others had rugged limestone cliffs plunging into the sea. The scenery was breathtaking, unlike anything Ethan had seen before.
Budi, who had been sailing these waters for years, pointed at the islands as they passed.
"See that one? That's Rinca Island. Also has dragons, but Komodo Island is the real deal."
Ethan nodded, taking in every word.
As they neared Komodo Island, Budi called out, "Welcome to the land of dragons!"
Face to Face with the Komodo Dragons
Stepping onto Komodo Island felt surreal.
The terrain was dry and rugged, with golden-brown hills rising in the distance. Sparse trees and shrubs dotted the landscape, casting short, sharp shadows under the midday sun. The island looked ancient—like a place forgotten by time.
A group of park rangers, dressed in green uniforms and armed with long wooden sticks, greeted the visitors.
"Welcome to Komodo National Park," one of the rangers said. "Please follow our instructions. The dragons are wild animals, and they can be dangerous."
Ethan had read about the Komodo dragons before—how they were the world's largest lizards, growing up to three meters (10 feet) long, and how their saliva contained a deadly mix of bacteria and venom. Seeing one in the wild was a bucket-list experience, but also a reminder of how small humans were in nature's grand scheme.
The group followed the ranger along a narrow dirt trail, scanning the landscape for any sign of movement.
Then, they saw it.
A massive Komodo dragon, basking in the shade of a tree. Its scaly skin was dark gray, its powerful limbs stretched out lazily, and its forked tongue flickered in and out, tasting the air.
Ethan's heart pounded. It was bigger than he had imagined.
"They can smell prey from five kilometers away," the ranger explained. "And when they hunt, they bite and wait. The venom slows down the prey, and they track it for hours—sometimes days—before finishing the kill."
Ethan took a cautious step closer, capturing every detail through his camera lens. The dragon's cold, reptilian eyes seemed to lock onto him, sending a primal shiver down his spine.
Further down the trail, they saw another dragon lumbering across the path, its tail dragging through the dust. Nearby, baby Komodo dragons scrambled up trees—an instinctual survival tactic to avoid being eaten by their own kind.
"It's like walking through the Jurassic era," Ethan whispered.
Beyond the Dragons – The Pink Beach and Padar Island
After the thrill of Komodo Island, the boat continued to one of Ethan's most anticipated destinations—Pink Beach.
As the boat pulled into the bay, Ethan's eyes widened. The sand was pink.
He had seen photos before, but nothing compared to witnessing it in real life. The color came from crushed red coral mixed with white sand, creating a soft pink hue that shimmered under the sunlight.
He dove into the water, snorkeling over vibrant coral reefs teeming with life. Schools of clownfish darted around, a sea turtle glided past, and the coral formations looked like an underwater city of color and movement.
The final stop was Padar Island, where a steep hike to the summit rewarded him with one of the most iconic views in Indonesia—three crescent-shaped beaches with different colored sands (white, black, and pink), surrounded by rolling green hills and deep blue waters.
As he stood at the top, the wind in his hair, Ethan took a deep breath.
Jakarta's skyscrapers felt a world away.
From the capital's crowded streets to the untamed wilderness of Komodo, Indonesia had shown him its two extremes.
And yet, both were beautiful in their own way.
The Serenity of Komodo's Waters
The sun was setting as Ethan descended from Padar Island's summit. The view was etched into his mind — a sweeping panorama of emerald hills, the deep blues of the Komodo Sea, and the beaches below, still glistening from the fading light. He couldn't help but feel a sense of timelessness in the air. Komodo was both untouched and humbling. It was easy to see why this national park, with its abundant wildlife, underwater ecosystems, and stark landscapes, was one of the world's natural treasures.
As their boat glided back towards Labuan Bajo, Ethan watched the sky transition into rich hues of purples and oranges, the colors reflecting on the calm water. He realized how far he had come on this trip—not just geographically, but in his personal journey. The city lights of Jakarta had seemed so far away, the urban grind of everyday life slipping away like a distant memory. Here, in the heart of the Komodo National Park, life felt simple and vital, centered around the raw elements of the earth.
The boat ride itself was an adventure. As night crept in, the stars overhead sparkled like diamonds, untainted by the light pollution of cities. The sound of the waves and the occasional breeze filled the air, while the crew of the boat began preparing a seafood dinner that promised to be as fresh as it could get, straight from the sea.
"Freshly caught tonight," Budi said, offering Ethan a platter of grilled fish, accompanied by a tangy sambal dip.
The flavors of the fish were so intense—sweet, salty, and smoky—that Ethan couldn't help but savor every bite. The saltiness of the sea seemed to infuse everything about this meal, as if the very essence of Komodo had been captured in the food. He marveled at how much more meaningful and flavorful everything seemed here, far from the bustle of Jakarta.
A Dive into Komodo's Marine Life
The next morning, the boat crew took Ethan to one of the park's best snorkeling spots: Manta Point. The waters were warm and inviting, with vibrant coral reefs stretching beneath the surface.
Ethan dove in and immediately was surrounded by an otherworldly underwater landscape. Colorful fish, schools of parrotfish, and even shy octopuses flitted through the coral gardens. But the real thrill came when he saw the first manta ray glide effortlessly beneath him. The sheer size of the creature was awe-inspiring as its enormous wings seemed to slice through the water in fluid motions.
He swam alongside the manta ray for a moment, before it disappeared into the blue depths, leaving Ethan mesmerized by the grace and power of the ocean's creatures.
"That was incredible," Ethan exclaimed, his heart racing.
"It's the most magical part of Komodo," Budi replied. "These waters are protected, and the marine life here is some of the most vibrant in Indonesia. It's a paradise for divers and snorkelers alike."
Ethan agreed. It was hard to describe the feeling of being in these unspoiled waters, surrounded by so much life, and the realization that these were ecosystems largely untouched by human hands. The sea here was not just a body of water—it was a lifeline to an entire world of creatures, from the tiny clownfish to the majestic manta rays.
Cultural Insights and the Heart of the Islands
While Komodo National Park's wildlife was undeniably the star of the show, there was more to the area than just its natural wonders. On the island of Rinca, Ethan had the chance to meet the local Flores people—the indigenous communities who had lived here for centuries. Though many of them were now focused on tourism, their way of life was still deeply connected to the land.
He visited a small village, where the people lived in traditional wooden houses, raised on stilts to protect against floods and predators. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked cassava and the chatter of children playing in the streets. The villagers, mostly farmers and fishermen, still lived off the land and sea, just as their ancestors had.
Through conversations with the villagers, Ethan learned about the rich cultural heritage of the region. The Manggarai people of Flores, for instance, had their own unique language and customs. In their stories, they spoke of dragons as gods, spirits that watched over the islands and the people who called it home.
As part of his journey, Ethan had the chance to visit a traditional woven fabric workshop. The intricate designs and vibrant colors woven into the ikat textiles were not just works of art—they were steeped in symbolism. Each pattern had a meaning, representing everything from family lineage to connection with nature. The villagers' craftsmanship was remarkable, and Ethan picked up a handwoven scarf as a souvenir—an emblem of the connection he'd forged with these islands.
Saying Goodbye to Komodo
As the boat neared Labuan Bajo once more, Ethan felt a deep sense of gratitude. He had come to Komodo expecting adventure, and he had found it—but he had also discovered something deeper. He had been struck by the balance between man and nature, the quiet resilience of the communities here, and the fierce majesty of the dragons that had survived in this land for millions of years.
Komodo, with all its beauty, danger, and mystery, had left a lasting mark on him. This was the kind of place where one could feel a true connection to the earth, where the pull of the wild was undeniable, and where the stories of the past still roamed among us in the form of those ancient creatures.
As Ethan boarded his flight back to Labuan Bajo, he turned one last time to the Komodo Islands. The sea shimmered in the early morning light, and the distant hills seemed to whisper tales of the dragons, the sea, and the generations who had lived here.
In the months to come, he would reflect on his time in Komodo, and on how it had shaped him. As much as he had traveled across Indonesia, it was here, in the wilds of the national park, that he had found something deeper than travel—it was a connection to the world, one that was untouched and timeless.
With a promise to return someday, he left Komodo behind, but its wild beauty would forever remain etched in his heart.
To be continued…