If all were to go swimmingly…

…none of them for me.

When we first arrived in Indonesia, we there were a few places that still served mango juice, but otherwise, we had just missed mango season.  Then, all through my time in Alor, I heard about mangos.  (Please note that I looked it up, and the plural form can be spelled either mangoes or mangos.)  Alor, they all said, had the best mangoes.  They even had the largest mango in the world, which was delicious, and the size of a coconut (A jelly coconut- so the giant ones).   Even in the yard of Pak Kris, there was a giant mango tree.  Steadily throughout our stay there, I watched mangoes growing on every limb, so that by the time we left, I counted over 60 mangoes just from where I sat at the dinner table, which included only about 15 percent of the tree. 

By the time September 13 rolled around, the mangoes were just starting to change color.   I headed to the airport, having missed the next mango season by a mere two weeks.