You don’t need a passport stamp from Scandinavia to find yourself in a majestic fjord-like valley. Just head deep into the highlands of West Sumatra, and you’ll stumble upon a surreal pocket of earth called Harau Valley—where sheer granite cliffs tower over emerald rice fields, waterfalls tumble like silver ribbons, and mist hugs the treetops like it’s never known anything else.

The boat ride starts off like any other through the ancient canals of Xochimilco. There's laughter in the distance, floating mariachi music, and the occasional splash of an oar. But then your trajinera turns away from the main path. The air gets still. The water darkens. The laughter fades. You're no longer headed toward a party—you’re heading into a ghost story.