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had so little time we asked about some place on the north side. Gitgit was recommended, and we set off for Gitgit accordingly.

The drive was all up-hill, into the mountains, and very lovely. There were hairpin turns - one so narrow that we bumped one car coming down the mountain, but no harm was done. We passed lovely little viallges - groups of thatched houses with mud walls, surrounded by a mud wall. There are more flowers in the villages than in Batak kampongs, and the whole effect was much more picturesque. Little Buddhist temples were everywhere along the road, and in each village were shrines of various sizes - some of them nothing more than a tiny platform with an offering or two.

Gitgit turned out to be a village with a government resthouse. There were four rooms, but no one else was staying there. From our room we had the most gorgeous view looking out towards the sea, which was eight miles away and fifteen hundred feet below us. Back of the rest house were rice terraces, which for beauty beat any sort of cultivated field I have ever seen. Up the mountain side they rose, their water reflecting nearby coconut palms, the ridges divided by paths of emerald green.

Bill has such a bad cold, with a pain in the ribs, that we did little all day except admire the view. Dr. C. and I walked through the village, and saw the local temple, which consists of a nice old gate, carved and painted stone, and several small shrines, some of them spoiled by corrugated iron roofs, some of them thatched. Two of them had old paintings of Hindu gods on the walls.

All the local color of the island walks past our front gate so it is really not so much deprivation just to sit still in a place like this. Men and women go by carrying baskets on their heads, walking with that straight free movement that comes from generations of doing just this. The women, many of them, wear the sarong with nothing above the waist. Most of them have mouths stained red by betel nut. They are not as beautiful as the tourist posters lead one to expect, but they are brown and comely. The children smile at one with the most charming friendliness. In the late afternoon we took a short drive up the road and came upon a large troop of macaques, who scuttled across in front of us and spent sometime crashing about in the nearby trees.

There are many small horses here, and pack trains passed our door continually, carrying cabbages for the most part, in big panniers slung on each side of the saddle. With a chain of bells around their necks, and a basket of food under their noses so that they could eat as they walked, they climbed up and down the steep roads all day. Even more interesting were the cattle that were led past in small herds. These are the banteng, found wild in Java, but here domesticated for hundreds of years. They are pure blooded banteng - one of the rarest Zoo animals! - but only in this island have they been tamed. We had banteng meat for dinner and liked it very much.

Bill feeling so miserable we went to bed at 8.30, having rubbed him with the local remedy for pains (it smelled strongly of eucalyptus) and given him a hot-water bottle that was a stone gin bottle wrapped in a towel.

Transcription Notes:
typo on viallges - transcribed as typed