A sundown cruise on a felucca is a veritable sound and light-weight present. The whishing and threshing of the rustling breeze intermingled with the melodic jap chants from a number of minarets, the solar’s rays enjoying on the meandering wavelets of the shimmering waters, and the purple crimson-yellow-orange shades of the setting solar in the azure sky are visions seen nowhere else.
As we climbed onboard the battered minibus in Flores at 5am, the air was thick with anticipation. Even the driver, slumped half-asleep over the wheel with headphones hanging from his ears, didn’t quell the feeling of journey. Every …