On the Go in Manado 15: Where to Next? Pulisan!

By this time in the journey, I was still very far ahead of schedule, and not really sure where to go next. My last night at the Tangkoko Guesthouse, I sat on the stoop with Pak Nestor, my guide from earlier in the day, talking about a wide of variety of topics, sampling drinks of Fanta and "arak", a type of palm liquor prevalent there in North Sulawesi. "Cap tikus", as it's also known, is sold in reused plastic water bottles, and as ours got more and more empty, we shared more and more.

Eventually, I got to asking where northwards of Batuputih I might find reasonable accommodations. Go to Bahoi, he told me. There were homestays there. I looked at it on the map, and it looked sufficiently far away that it would qualify as a day's worth of travel.

My very circuitous route that day

Slowly, I made my way north. Along the way, I found myself at a place called Pantai Pal (Pal Beach). Wow, that place took my breath away. I know I've used a lot of hyperbole during the

Pantal Pal

Manado series, but that place had perhaps the bluest waters I've ever seen on a beach. So incredibly beautiful. 

Also along the way was the town of Likupang, the largest town in the very northern tip of Sulawesi. Meh.

The harbor at Likupang

Not much to see there, except for me. What stands out about Likupang was the "stare factor". For what was far from some tiny village, I hadn't been in a place where I felt so scrutinized. EVERYONE was staring at the foreigner. 

When I go to Bahoi, I was very much underwhelmed. Maybe because it was low-tide and the waterfront wad kinda disgusting.

Maybe because I had no interest in all the eco-tourism stuff that they had on offer at the entirely deserted tourist information center. So, it was time to the next place.. which was?.... Determined by a coin. 

On the map, the Pulisan Jungle Beach Resort looked like it was adjacent to the amazing Pal Beach I had seen earlier in the day. Not quite.

It was nearby, but it had it's own 'road' leading to it. I use the term loosely. In fact, I learned later from the proprietress that all their guests arrive on foot. 

Well, not all of them. I managed to navigate the horrible road and rolled up on my motorcycle without a reservation. The lady who ran the place and I didn't get off on the best of terms. As I rolled further into the resort proper, she came running up, yelling at me.

How dare I disturb the peace of this remote garden resort with the noise of my motorbike! I was sorry. The parking area wasn't marked. The barricade at the entrance she said was there wasn't there. I hadn't felt less welcomed at a hotel in my life. 

It turned out to be a nice place.