We're All Moving to Lake Toba

I couldn't believe it. My friend had been working methodically at an interesting and rewarding job in HR for the past 15 years. He had been married to his lovely wife for the last five, and they seemed to be right on track for taking advantage of the housing crisis and settling into a larger house. Why on earth were they making the seemingly insane decision to move to a tropical third world country?

"It's not tropical", he said. "Lake Toba is at a high enough elevation that the climate is quite temperate. There are pine forests and you actually might need a cotton sweater on some winter evenings. It's perfect."

"Well, what about Lake George or Lake Tahoe or Lake Geneva for that matter?" I inquired.
"Those places are great, but I don't have the finances to afford property there, much less the cost of living. My wife and I can live directly on the water in a fantastic modern house here without worrying about prices or crime."

I was intrigued. My friend had always been astute and conscientious, and I respected the decisions he made. A couple months ago I flew on down to Lake Toba to meet him and see the place for myself. I was astounded to put it mildly.

Getting there proved to be a lot simpler than I had anticipated. I arrived in the magnificently modern airport in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I decided to stay for a few days to see what this futuristic had to offer. The secret to getting downtown, he told me, was to take the VIP train service. A valet will carry your luggage from baggage claim to the 28-minute train and from the train to a waiting Mercedes which takes you to your hotel.

After getting my SE Asian Bladerunner experience, I got on a one- hour flight to Medan, Indonesia. Medan has the feeling of being run-down. Amidst the decaying Dutch colonial buildings are modern shopping plazas. The airport is right in the center of town, so the cost of the taxi was a set price with no tip expected. I checked into the Novotel and ordered a beer and a club sandwich from room service. The sandwich was bland and mediocre, but the Bintang was pure refreshing nectar. One of the positive things about being a Dutch colony for 350 years is having a fantastic local beer.

The next morning I arranged at the hotel for an SUV with a driver to drive me down to Lake Toba. It's possible to arrange to share a van or car, but I was anxious to get down there and see what my friend had been raving about. The uniformed driver made it clear that my safety and comfort were his top priorities. I buckled up and off we went through the streets of Medan and onto the long road through farms and towns.

As we began approaching our destination, I could sense the difference. Suddenly, we were inundated with dark green hues from massive tree trunks and tall pine trees. The air was clean and crisp in my nostrils. I shut off the A/C because I was more comfortable without it. There were churches everywhere because, as my driver explained, the area all around Lake Toba is Christian. As we reached the crest of a hill, I could see clear across what I presumed was Lake Toba. It really was magnificent. Pure untouched and unblemished nature welcomed me. We rolled into Perapat, a town on the shore of the lake, and I boarded a ferry to the island of Samosir.

Once on board, I was greeted by some local guys who were keen to get me to stay at their particular hotel. I was happily surprised by their high level of English. Their sales pitches were peppered with all sorts of interesting facts about the island. Apparently, it's as large as Singapore. The guys on the boat were just as content to chat. I disembarked onto the quiet vastness of Samosir Island.

It was just as my friend had described. Majestic mountains capped by coffee plantations, a hot springs as good as any in the world to use for as long as you like, candle-lit dinners on hilltops overlooking the lake, and so much more. I was tempted to stay, but I had to get back to my real life. Or did I?