Picked a destination in a different direction. My target was some waterfalls on the other side of the island, although I cared not if I ever really found them. I left early again and came to a beautiful lake in the highlands where I stopped for breakfast. I sat in a hut next to the water surrounded by large green hills. Again, I was the only one there. This time there were no power tools to shatter the peace. I had coffee in silence. Then just as my food came out drums and bells started to ring from somewhere to my right. It came closer until I saw people carrying flags, gongs, bamboo alters, and baskets. They were most in dressed in white and paraded down the path directly in front of me. I was amazed at my fortune. For a second day in a row I was the sole witness to a beautiful ceremonial procession. These are not shows put on for entertainment. There has not been one single foreigner that I have even seen up in the highlands. I set my camera on the table to shoot video of the happenings without looking obnoxiously obvious. I don't think I captured it too well, but I hope the audio picked up the song they marched to.
I made it to the waterfalls I intend to reach on the north side of the island. There was a short trek through the forest to get to the series of tall crashing cascades. I took a dip, swung on the rope swing, watched the monstrous butterflies hopping from flower to flower. At last I decide to make my way back over the mountains on the long journey back home. I had a tentative date for the evening.
I recorded a lot of video while driving. It was probably overkill, but there were so many images I wanted to hold on to. Pictures don't capture what it's like to come over a hill onto a temple or the roosters calling out from the side of the road as I float by. But what I think I was most hoping to get was how nearly everyone I rode by smiled, waved, and called out a hearty hello. It's good medicine for the spirit.