Medan

It’s a relatively quick trip across the Strait of Mellaca, but it feels like we have stepped back 30 years. We’re shunted through an archaic terminal to immigration, and then marched back to the boat to pick up our luggage.

Old clapped out buses ply the route between the port and the city of Medan, the capital of Sumatra, and we board the waiting machine and sit back as the weak air conditioner tries vainly to cool the damp, hot atmosphere. The bus keeps filling until it is standing room only, and more people pour into the aisle. Medan is hot and dusty, and all forms of car, truck, bus and bike battle for supremacy on the roads.

At dinner, I’m sitting at a travellers cafe and CNN is on the tube... and we see for the first time that a huge earthquake has decimated Pedang, a city a couple of hundred kilometres to the south. There’s an awful sinking feeling in my stomach as I think about the people being dragged from the rubble alive, and those not so fortunate. Our plan was to visit Pedang, but there’s no way I’m going anywhere near it – I feel almost guilty having leisure time in the country where a disaster has occurred.

I cast my mind back to the 2005 tsunami, where images circulated on the internet depicting sunbaking tourists living it up in Phuket while the island was in ruins. That sort of shit is heartless to say the least - my thoughts are with the people of Pedang and surrounding areas, but for this trip we’re adjusting our plans and avoiding the Pedang area altogether.