Into The Land of the Dragons

We shall wave Australia goodbye for now, although we will be back there in a few episodes. Now we were off to Indonesia, particularly Komodo and Bali.

We were now getting into serious coronavirus territory. The stories were getting scarier and even more scarier. People were beginning to die or become very ill.

First place to stop off at in Indonesia was Komodo, the home of the dragons. To be allowed entry onto the island you had to pass a temperature test, which seemed a little crude compared with the later more sophisticated things that we had to stick up our noses; don’t know about you, but they made me break out in sneezing fits!

Whilst passing through the reception area, during the afternoon prior to arriving at Komodo, I was snagged by the cruise director. He said that the tour guides on board had discussed me during the risk assessment phase of the forthcoming excursion to meet up with the dragons.

It had been decided, without consulting me, that they would prefer me not to take part. It was envisaged that the trails leading to their hideouts were too treacherous for me to walk. God, they ought to see some of the parkruns I now navigate.

I have to say that I was disappointed. I wondered what would happen if I refused to accept their invitation not to go?

It was up to me, they assured me, but if the health and safety officer deemed me not fit enough to take part he could refer it to the captain who, apparently, had the authority to order me not to go, but they hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Of course they didn’t!

I was really quite annoyed that they, without any medical information, could decide, unilaterally, that I was not fit to visit the dragons.

In all honesty, I have to say, I was not actually as disappointed as I made out and I told a little lie, which I am quite ashamed of now as I look back through my journal, I said that the only reason we came on this particular cruise was our long held love for this fabulous creature, to be viewed in the wild.

They understood this and suggested that I take it up with our travel agents who had booked me onto the cruise. I swore that I would approach Reader Offers when we returned and demand my money back. Did I? Did I hell. I waited for them to ring me with their customer satisfaction survey and see about booking us onto our next cruise. Did they follow up? Did they hell.

I had been looking forward to indulging my extreme patriotic side. I was going to approach the fire-breathing monster, okay, perhaps they weren’t actually fire-breathing, dressed in my white surcoat emblazoned with a red cross.

God, I was going to show them who was boss. I only needed a comely wench to hand to make my heroic gesture complete. I was going to wander up to these leftovers from the prehistoric period and announce, eye to eye, “My name is George. Saint George!” That would show them who was boss. Alas, it was not to be. My inner Saint and Bond would have to wait for another day. So, there it was, I was denied entry to the dragons’ den. LOL!

What are Komodo Dragons, I hear you ask? Well, that is a jolly good question. To start with, they are not actually dragons, they are big lizards. They are, in actual fact, monitor lizards. Do you know what, I have heard of people keeping monitor lizards as pets or, at least, I think I have? Therefore, I don’t think my assumption that they are cuddly wee things would be far wide of the mark.

Oh, no, don’t even think about it, it looks like one human being dies every six years at the hands, I mean claws, of these creatures. You would think, with that sort of reputation, they would be more at home in the, what seems like, every second animal will kill you, land of Australia. They are, however, only found on Komodo and four other Indonesian islands. That’s fair enough and, as far as I am concerned, that’s exactly where they can stay.

Let’s have a look at some of their statistics, shall we? Their full on technical name is Varanus Komodoensis. They are rated as the largest and heaviest lizard on the planet, up to three metres long and about ninety kilos in weight. What is more, they have a lethal bite. Add this to their huge strength, and speedy pace, 20km/h, over sprint distances and, I think it is safe to say, they are not to be messed with.

If you get bitten by one it would prove most handy to have your own paramedic on hand to help. If, in the unlikely event, you survive the catastrophic blood loss their venom acts as a catch-all. If you were looking forward to strutting your stuff on the dancefloor later that evening, it might prove prudent to alter your plans.

Incredibly, the Ata Modo people, who have occupied this island for the past 2,000 years, believe they share many of the dragon’s attributes. I found a BBC article that tells of the lizards lying in the sun on school playing fields only minutes before the children are there kicking a ball around.

What the author found most amazing is how the people went about their everyday chores whilst these reptiles watched on from mere feet away. Can you imagine the paperwork involved if a dragon was seen on an English playing field only minutes before PE was about to start. Please, no jokes about the headmistress, it doesn’t become you.

To be honest it was a nice opportunity for Jane to do something without worrying where I was putting my feet, hands or head, all of them can get me in trouble.

She did let me know, upon her return, that the trails were totally accessible and I would have had no problem navigating them. She did observe, however, that she doubts I would have got anything out of any encounter with the dragons themselves as they blended, rather magnificently, into the surrounding bush.

She was probably right and this was later borne out by me looking at one in captivity in, of all places, a bird park. Even though the pen was not much bigger than the animal itself, I could not see it. It did not even have the courtesy to move so that I might catch a glimpse from the corner of my eye.

The only thing I worry about now is what happens if I should come across one during my solo walks around our beautiful country lanes, would I be able to outrun one. Probably not! It’s just another thing to put the fear of God into me when unseen skittering can be heard in the undergrowth.