Lake Toba

A knob of land jutting from Samosir's east side, its shore lined with guesthouses and cafes. Name your lodging to the boat from Parapat and it drops you at that jetty. Clear, still water means many swim straight off their guesthouse.

A Batak king's grave: a sarcophagus cut from a single rock with a face carved on it. Going in, you drape over your shoulder an ulos cloth lent at the entrance. In a yard nearby the Sigale-gale wooden puppet is danced, its limbs worked by strings.

Where King Siallagan and the elders sat on stone chairs under a tree to judge village wrongdoing. Guides retell the beheadings said to have happened here, acting them out. The village's old houses rise at the roof ends like boats.

An old village whose Batak king's house now serves as a museum. In the yard Sigale-gale shows run to gongs and drums, and in the closing dance onlookers get pulled in. Shows run only a few times in the morning, so call in early on a day circling the island.

At the lake's northern end, a single stream drops more than 100 metres off the plateau edge straight into a gorge. The top lookout fits falls and lake in one view. Steps go to the bottom, but coming back up is a steep slog, so weak knees should stay up top.

On Samosir's west side, round hills covered only in grass fold toward the lake like waves. Climb at sunrise and the lake appears above mist caught in the valleys. The path has no trees and slick earth, so the day after rain makes it hard going.

The sacred mountain where Batak people believe their first ancestor, Si Raja Batak, came down. Sianjur Mula-mula at its foot is counted the first Batak village. The summit is hours on foot with few waymarks, so finding a guide in the village is wiser.

Sulphur springs rising at the foot of Pusuk Buhit, their runoff laying white terraces down the slope. Several simple pools serve locals and cost little. After sunset a chill comes off the lake, and that is when many come for a soak.

A small lake held on a hill on Samosir, called a lake on an island in a lake. In years of little rain it shrinks hard and grass shows. The way up is a narrow hill road, so many rent a scooter for it.

Women sit in the shade beneath their houses weaving Batak ulos cloth on backstrap looms. Ulos is given at every turn of life from birth through weddings to funerals. One piece takes weeks, so it costs more than at market, but what you buy there is genuine.

A human-shaped rock that seems to hang off a lakeside cliff near Parapat. Legend says a girl threw herself from the cliff to escape a forced marriage and turned to stone. The road gives a poor view of it, so it is best seen from a boat below.

A cultural complex in Balige on the south shore, founded by retired general TB Silalahi. Its Batak museum holds shamans' divination books, staffs and funeral figures, with old houses in the yard. Visit before crossing to Samosir to get Batak culture in order.

The last Batak priest-king, who fought the Dutch for decades and fell in 1907, lies buried in Balige. Named a national hero, he has appeared on Indonesian banknotes. The roof of the tomb building curves upward at each end in the Batak manner.

An old market hall topped with a row of Batak house roofs sits at the heart of Balige. It sells ulos cloth, lake-caught fish and andaliman berries. On market days people from the villages around crowd in and stalls spill onto the streets.

A long stretch of white sand on the Samosir shore toward Pangururan, more seaside than lake to look at. The water stays shallow far out, so families with children come in numbers. At weekends stalls renting rubber rings and banana boats line the sand.

A tower on the winding road west up from Pangururan, overlooking Samosir and the narrow channel parting it from the mainland. The wind is cold up there, and afternoon cloud rises from the valleys to hide the view; a morning climb works out better.