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| 8 January | Denpassar Airport | US$1 = RP2180 |  |
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The day I've been looking forward to/dreading has finally arrived. Trying to procrastinate just a little longer on the last few tasks I had to do, I hung around the hostel until Gaven showed up, talking about his latest conquest. He had met a couple Swedish girls back at the other hostel, and wanted a partner to help him out. Sorry guy, I'm leaving the country...
I finally managed to get everything done, working up a hot sweat in the stifling Cairns summer weather. A long, relaxing 2 minute cold shower almost made me miss my shuttle to the airport, but I needed to clean up before the long night ahead. Then, it was off to the airport. The flight itself was relatively unremarkable. A very rough flight into Darwin, a boring flight over to Bali. I got to Denpassar airport at midnight. I was expecting everything from suspicious customs agents to vicious cavity searches to perhaps a blood test on the spot. Instead, I walked right through customs without even a dog sniffing my bags. What happened to all those stringent controls I had heard about? Obviously, I had some rethinking to do... There was really no arrivals terminal. As soon as you walked through customs, you were practically out on the street. There was just a large area with benches along a street lined with taxis. Everything was very clean, the taxi drivers were polite, they took no for an answer. The only problem I encountered was that the money changers wouldn't take travelers cheques! My only option was to use some of my emergency US$ stash. I had no choice, so I changed US$60 to tide me over until I reached a bank. Then, the long night began. I had no interest in visiting nearby Kuta, especially in showing up in the middle of the night. I was too cheap to stay at the nearby airport hotel. So, I spent the night at the airport, planning on traveling to Ubud in the morning. Settling in for the night, I sat down on my pack under a bright light outside arrivals and waited for the morning... The air was warm, balmy. Pleasant. Everything felt very surreal. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't really be in Asia. It was too easy!
The airport was a little scarier after he left. No one was around except for a constant stream of motorbikes and the occasional patrol of the polisi (police), a bit scarce for my comfort. A couple mozzies buzzed around my ears. I usually wouldn't care, as bites never itch me. But I'm on Bali now, what about Malaria, the big M! Where's the deet? |
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| 9 January | Ubud | |
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Morning arrived, if you could call it that. I managed to sleep for a couple hours on a bench, my pack locked beside me. Nym came back early, handed me a helmet, and we were off! Sitting on the back of his bike, I dwarfed the boy. It was only 4:45 AM, and the land was still dark. It was a scene out of a nightmare. Vicious dogs, monkeys, dragons leapt out of the night, revealed a moment later as Balinese carvings. Lightning flickered off of distant temples. Buses, cycles, and pushcarts going in all directions barely missed us. We drove down narrow alleys and roads that seemed to go nowhere, only to then merge into a larger byway. All this, while I'm tottering around on the back of a cycle going more than 80kph! A face distorted in terror stared wide-eyed back at me from Nym's mirror. Struggling to stay on, my legs shaking from fatigue, my back tiring from pack, it was an interesting ride to say the least. Welcome to Bali!
Looking back, I loved it. At the time, it was completely scary. 1.5 hours later, we arrived in Ubud. We had to ask directions to the Succi homestay, the guesthouse Sabine told me she would at, but we made it OK. I thanked Nym and offered him some money as well. At first, he actually refused it, saying he just did it because we were friends, but I wanted to give him something for the real effort he put into getting me here. It was honest generosity after all! Great to see. I found a room at Succi for 10000Rp (too much). It was a shock at first, but about what I expected, even a bit more modern. Yes, you needed to pour water into the toilet, yes, there was a mandi (water basin), no sink, etc., but it also had a detachable shower head, a real lock on the door... I asked the owner about Sabine. He checked his guestbook. She had been here, but left yesterday. Hmm. I'll hopefully see her later at Cafe Wayan. Hopefully. After dumping my bag, I collapsed in a chair in front of my room. I started talking to a couple Americans eating breakfast next door. Miles and Sue, brother and sister. They're doing a 2-3 month tour of Indonesia. After they finished eating, we went into town together. Wow, it was a real shocker. The street was torn up for construction. Women walked around carrying 20 kilo (or more) baskets of stone balanced on their heads. Tar was melting in big barrels in pits on either side of the road. The air was full of smoke, strange smells, and strange sounds on all sides. We kept getting asked "you want transport?" along with the hand motions of steering a wheel all along the street. As if tourists shouldn't be walking. Now, the real traveling begins! I kept checking out shops along the way, prices are really cheap to begin with, and these are 2-8 times what you can actually haggle them down to. I'm not planning on buying anything yet, just acclimating for now. We reached the end of Monkey Forest Rd and found, what else? Monkey Forest. The place is full of monkeys. They are all very aggressive. Some people had brought peanuts and the monkeys jumped all over them. Miles had a bag of nuts he bought from a woman outside. He sat on a stone wall and started to feed a calm female one nut at a time. He would place one on his hand, she would politely take it, eat it, and reach for another. This domesticated scene continued for a few minutes. But then Miles looked away for a minute. She started reaching for a nut, looked up at his distracted face, and like lightning snatched the whole bag out of his other hand! Everyone broke out laughing. That's one smart animal. We continued down around to a parallel street, with all sorts of lovely restaurants. The menu at one losman/restaurant looked so good, we tried to order lunch. But it was only 10:30, so the kitchens were not serving yet. Oh well.. We ended up lounging on cushions and talking on the back porch of the losman with beautiful views of the rice fields. The air around us was filled with the music of wind chimes and caged songbirds. Perfect. Eventually we roused ourselves and went to the Cafe Lotus for a late lunch. It was much pricier, but it also had a beautiful view, this time of a lotus fountain, with temple-like surroundings. We shared a table with a Brit and a Canadian. They were an interesting couple. They met 5 years ago traveling, and have been together ever since. They have been just about everywhere in the world. My heroes. One of they places they strongly recommended was Jordan, in particular a place called Petra. The long night had taken its toll on me, though. I was tuckered out, and pushed to leave - by falling asleep in my chair of course.
It was great to see a familiar face again. She seemed to have handled the transition just fine. She didn't care for Succi, so she found another losman. A nice place. Much nicer. It is supposedly clean, it has a flush toilet, good water pressure in the shower, her "temple" she calls it. We walked over so she could show me the place. The artwork, tablecloths, etc. seemed to confirm this description.
After dinner, we bought tickets to a Balinese dance show. It was very interesting, the gamelan playing, the dancers with their gorgeous costumes, even their eye movements were part of the dance. But I just could not stay awake. It was stifling hot and humid. I kept falling asleep, waking in time for the next dance. It got to be too much, for both Sabine and myself, and we left after 1.5 hours. I'm glad I did it, but I need sleep! I walked her back to her place, then home! Another cold shower and I passed out instantly. Snore! |
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| 10 January | Ubud | |
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A delicious breakfast was included with the room. I could easily get used to this. After packing and paying for the night, I moved in with Sabine. 15000 for two was a much better price.
Many of the temples in Bali require visitors to respect their dress customs. This meant that I would have to purchase a sarong to wear. I had planned to get one eventually, but this gave me the kick in the seat I needed to actually shop. Sabine helped me pick one out, then the haggling began. You insult me with that price. Starving children, rich tourist. For that price, I give you this. Wait, come back, OK. It was fun to haggle, though I suspect I still spent too much. The price started at 20,000 for a beautiful batik sarong. By the time I was done with the show, I had it down to 4,000. After a slow start, we hopped a series of bemos to Tampaksiring to see a temple the Lonely Planet called one of the best sights in Bali. We were told it should cost us about 1500 each to get there. We did our best, but ended up paying 2500 by the end. The temple was not very impressive. It was interesting, but people said it was only when a ceremony was going on is it really worth seeing. I wish the book had mentioned that... Huge carvings cut into the cliffs. Bare rooms with grass growing between the rocks.
On our way back, we haggled tougher with the bemo drivers. This meant telling some greedy drivers to move on, as they wouldn't accept a decent fare. We got home for 1500! We are already getting better at this game. We both still have a lot to learn. Back to the losman to relax, write in our journals, etc. At 6:00, we walked to the post office to meet Ursula. It was a movie style reunion. The two women spotted each other across the busy market. "Ursula!" "Sabine!" Arms flung wide, they raced through the crowds, chickens flying, goods scattered, shouts of surprise left in their wake. They come together with a big hug and the market quickly returned to its more accustomed state of chaos. Aw. Yes, it really happened. No one knows what happened to Peter... Sabine had met two British women on her way over. They were famished, so we quickly found dinner. Sabine and Ursula were talking a mile a minute in German catching up, so I passed the time with the two Brit girls. Sam had been living in Japan for 2 years, Pat, in Mexico for 4 years, both as English teachers. Pat had lived an interesting life. She was someone who would never return home. Would never need to. Much later, Sabine, Ursula, and I went back to our place and looked through Ursula's pictures from Australia. She had pictures of the Anaconda, New Year's and since. Telling photos... |
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| 11 January | Kindesan | |
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Ursula and Pat moved into the bungalow next to ours. Sabine has been very good for the business here. We all sat and talked over tea for a while. Pat stayed in to research Indonesia in her guide book, but the rest of us went into town and down to Monkey Forest again. Ursula went in to see the sights, but Sabine and I stayed outside and talked in the shade. It was very hot and steamy yet again today. It never seems to end. Five cold showers a day aren't enough to keep cool. It starts as soon as you turn off the water. Anyway, cake and tea at Cafe Wayan. It was a gorgeous setting. Out back in the gardens, they had individually covered "rooms" for each table slightly raised from the surrounding paths.
Sabine and I were going to Mt. Batur tonight. This morning, we packed our stuff and left our bags at Ursula's. Finally, it was time to get down to business. We bought cookies and water at the supermarket (yes, they have one here!) then went on to haggle for a cycle. The first few requests we heard were outrageously high, but we were trying to feel it out. We found one place with a very new looking cycle. The guy did the usual "you want transport?" as we passed. We stopped and Sabine gave it a try. He asked 25,000 right off, and wouldn't come down. The usual price for 12 hours was 10,000 others had told us, and we wanted it for 24 hours. It took much work, walking away twice, and much moaning on either side, but we got it down to 15000 with insurance, for 24 hours. Good enough. Sabine drove, I gave her a hug from behind, and we were off to climb Mt. Batur. We managed to pack all of our gear in my large daypack. Immediately after leaving town, we missed our turn, but took the back roads to the volcano. The journey there was absolutely incredible. We passed a wedding ceremony, with everyone exquisitely dressed in brightly colored sarongs. Small villages consisting of only a scattering of huts along the road appeared out of the jungle, and just as quickly disappeared behind us. Other than getting seriously burned on a petrol deal because we had waited until we were empty, we had no problems. As we approached the volcano, the black skies opened above us and it started to pour. We made it to Kindesan, but it was a tense ride. The road from Peneloken on the crater's rim down to Kindesan was extremely steep and windy, my fingers turning white with the force of my grip on Sabine. We didn't have any recommendation for a place, but we found the Suryan losman was decent, costing 15000 for a room. As soon as we sat down for tea, hordes of guides descended on us. I instinctively fought them off, but another group there had been advised by friends to take a guide. It was supposed to be rather difficult otherwise... We decided it might be a good idea, so we joined them at a rate of 10000 each. We start the climb tomorrow at 3:30, so to bed early. |
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| 13 January | Ubud | |
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Nothing all day. I said a sad good-bye to Sabine. She left today for Singapore. Sniff.
Not much else. I changed some money, sat and read on my verandah. A nice peaceful day. Peter moved in with me, so the housing's still cheap (7500 each). |
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| 14 January | Ubud | |
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Another slow day. I was thinking about leaving today, but it was still raining like crazy just like the past couple days. Everyone is hoping for a break tomorrow... My clothes are still wet 2 days after washing. This could be a problem in the long run.
I spoke with Ben (Brit) in the next bungalow over about the Annapurna Circuit. He just trekked it in October and loved it. It was very cheap, he said, about US$5 a day! Good news. He said that I wouldn't need a guide or porters if I can go light. He did recommend a down bag. It was just a little cold... Hard to imagine in this steamy heat. |
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| 15 January | Lovina Beach | |
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My clothes are still wet! I'll have to wear them until they dry...
Bus at 11:30 to Lovina. Ben and Peter were on the same bus, but they got off at G. Batur. It was a decent enough shuttle. It had almost enough leg room, even for me. Say bye to the two as they got off in cloudy, rainy Peneloken. Then on to Lovina. I dumped my pack at the first place I came across, intending to change later if I didn't like it. Lovina had none of the charm of Ubud. It was nothing but giant mass-tourism bait. German menus, English breakfasts, tours, etc. But I was here to go diving. I went to check out the local dive shops. My choices came down to Padui, an unknown company with nice equipment and all the PADI certifications, or Spice, recommended in the LP, but with shitty equipment and a poorly informed staff. The Padui people were very informed, dive profile and all, and cost maybe US$45. When I asked Spice about the dive, they said "I don't know" and wanted US$50. Hm. I decided to hold off a day, hoping for better weather. It hasn't stopped raining all day. I'm in no rush. The rain stopped briefly, so I took a walk out to the beach. I was practically the only foreigner on the beach. But I wasn't alone. The sands soon swarmed with people trying to sell me sarongs, shells, massages, magic mushrooms... I met Putu (shells), Mimi (massage), and many, many others. They were all very friendly, very polite, but also very relentless... After a long, friendly chat about this or that, they would always start pushing their wares. Finally, it started raining again, so I walked back to town. All the restaurants were empty, but very touristy, with only European style food. I had difficulty finding nasi campur! |
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| 16 January | Lovina Beach | |
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I woke up very early after a miserable night of heat and mosquitoes. I wandered down to the beach, and after I fought off the initial wave of sellers, I had a moment's peace. Mimi and Putu came by to say hi. After I told them I didn't want to buy anything today, they sat with me and guarded me from the other sellers, driving them away before they could bother me.
Walking back to town later, I met a couple of Kiwi Christian missionaries, trying to spread the Word. It was a very unpleasant encounter. They have been here for six months now, at a mission on the east coast. Their entire attitude was horrible. The temples that I found peaceful and beautiful, they felt a dark and evil presence. The friendly people, all pagans destined for Hell. This entire island to them was nothing but an Eden in which the evil snake of Hinduism had to be exterminated. They had managed to "save" only a few people in their stay here, but they were determined to continue until all of Bali was Christian. I'm sorry to say it, but I found their attitude epitomizes everything I find wrong with religion. The weather was still very rough and rainy today, so I decided to pass on the diving. I'd rather save my money for Thailand where the weather (and the diving) will hopefully be better. Very early to bed, but with a mozzie net tonight, so I expected it to be better... Of course, the fan kicked out at about 3:00, very hot, no sleep. |
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| 17 January | (Mt. Bromo) |  |
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I took another shuttle bus to Bromo today. I could have taken bemos and paid one third the price, but I was lazy and took the easy way out. It picked me up right in front of my guesthouse. The trip to Bromo took 9 hours of driving, including a rough ferry ride across to Java on a filthy, crowded boat.
We arrived at Bromo very late. Sandra, an Austrian girl I met on bus, and I checked into a poor homestay right at the shuttle stop, because it was open... Our only problem was that by the time we got there, there was only 1 room left, with a twin bed... No problem. I ate a minuscule jaffle for dinner, then went to bed. We were getting up in 3½ hours, so right to sleep. |
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| 18 January | Solo | |
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Woken up at 3:00. Groan. Not this again! What is it about mountains that makes people want to drag themselves from bed in the middle of the night just to stumble up them and watch clouds cover the sunrise? A Jeep from our homestay took us up to Cemoro Lewang, a village on the lip of the volcano, and the trail head, part of the cost for the night. Everyone was offering Sandra and I horses, but no guides, so it looked like it would be an easy one. It was. There was only a steep descent on a cobblestone road down into the crater, then a long walk across the sandy plain to the interior peak. 247 steps up to the top. It was almost light by the time we reached the top, but the clouds once again rushed in before the sunrise. We could still see the awesome view of the still active volcano pouring out sulfurous yellow smoke. Once again denied the sunrise, I enjoyed the breathtaking view nevertheless. It was very cold up there, so I was wearing my fleece, raincoat, long sleeve polypro shirt, and my sarong wrapped around my legs to keep warm. I wandered off around to the other side of crater and lost sight of everyone else almost immediately. The clouds started to get even more dense, blocking all visibility, so I decided to go home. In fact, I decided to do a little ridge running...
Down a volcano. The others had long since gone home. I indecently stripped down to a singlet and running shorts at the start. I ran all the way around the top of the crater, down the steps, across the plain, and halfway up other side before losing steam. People tried to rent me a horse, trying to keep pace with me, but I outran them and left them behind. At the top, bemo drivers tried to get me, but I started jogging again, and soon even Cemoro Lewang was behind me. It was a good surge of energy this morning. Running in the cool early morning light, volcanic mountains on all sides, temples, fields, and villages drifting by. Kids on their way to school smiled and cried out "Hello" and "Selemat Pagi!". I felt powerful, not even winded. I walked into the homestay to find the others finishing a quiet breakfast.
A quick, very cold shower, then Kate, Judy, Sandra and I caught a bemo to Probolinggo. We got to the bus station easily, but then had a 2½ hour wait for a public bus. We paid about 20000 to Solo at the homestay, but I think we paid too much. Still, US$10 for a 6 hour air con ride? I can't really complain... Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom entertained the bus as we blazed along the road. The entire bus was packed, but it was decent enough. Flying through Java, mostly on the wrong side of road, the horn blaring. I don't think this part of Java is nearly as beautiful as Bali, but the people seem friendlier, more natural, less damaged by tourism, less looking for tourists' money... We'll see. I'm sitting on the bus right now, we have 4½ more hours to go. Groan. A man next to me tried to teach me a little Indonesian, but I forgot most of it. It helped pass the time. We got to Solo after dark, no buses were running, and we were 3 km out of town. We took becaks (cycle rickshaws) to our losman. They first tried to take us to someplace different than we asked for, hoping for a commission, perhaps, but we got them to take us finally to the right place. We found a wonderful hotel. Westerners (Paradise hotel). It had a large lobby, TV, very clean, clean sheets on the beds. It had asian style toilets but the showers were good, all for 10500 per room. Kate and Judy were in the room next door, Sandra joined me. Sandra and I then went to Warung Baru restaurant for dinner. It was very cheap, very good food. It was one of those travellers' places, filled with people comparing the foods of several continents and the price of a room in darkest Africa. We met over dinner an Aussie girl studying music here. Another westerner dating an Indonesian. She's been travelling for many years now. Next, she may go to Africa, maybe South America, wherever her fancy takes her. |
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| 19 January | Solo | |
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This morning, we went to the Kraton Surakarta. It is a combination palace and museum. Both were rather sad. The museum was dark, dusty, and in ill repair. The palace was a poor shadow of its previous "glory". "That used to be Italian marble, now is Indonesian, that used to be gold, now is paint." The place had burned down twice. Yawn.
Back home by way of the marketplace. I bought a half kilo of mangosteens for 500Rp and a kilo of rambutan for 1500Rp. Back to our losman to pig out on fruit. Yum! I thought the mangosteens were good but not great. The rambutans, on the other hand, were very good. They tasted similar to a grape, but much better. It is a red spiky fruit that you peel open and pop the fruit into your mouth. The rest of the afternoon was spent eating and talking. About 3:30, we went back to Baru for tea. Kate and I had been discussing Greek food, and I just had the craving... I had some fries and tzitziki. Yes that's right: tzitziki. Judy had nachos, a decision she was soon to regret... After her 8th trip to the toilet throwing up, she grabbed the T-paper and started from other end. Poor girl. It was food poisoning. It was scary, but Sandra and I still ended up back there for dinner. Hey, the place was good. Judy just had some bad luck. I hope. |
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| 20 January | Yogyakarta | |
| Up and out, with another delicious breakfast at Baru. Then a bus took Sandra and I to Yogyakarta (Jogja). Kate and Judy are staying another day in Solo to recover. Sandra and I met a couple on the bus, and the four of us scoured the Sosro area for a decent place. Everything was rather grim, dark and dirty, even the places recommended by LP. We end up at the Sari homestay. It's rather nice, but pricey by Yogya standards at 10000 for a double. Yogya's a big city, but laid back. There was no big push to buy, though there was lots to buy. I just wandered. Tomorrow, I'll buy. I think. It was raining buckets off and on all day. This is definitely the rainy season... | ||
| 21 January | Yogyakarta | |
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After a great breakfast at NN, Sandra and I went out to Kotagede, a town just outside Yogya, to check out the silver shops. It's a great place to shop. Rings were selling for around 7000-12000, earrings for about 5000. We found good quality at most places. My only problem was that I couldn't find a ring that fit me! I went to maybe 10, 15 places. They all carried rings that were too small for my fat fingers. Argh. Sandra bought 5 rings and 2 sets of earrings, all for only 50000! We finally gave up on me and went home.
Pizza lunch at Old Superman's, then split up for the afternoon. Kate and Judy showed up and moved into our homestay. Judy was still shaky, but felt much better. We all agreed to meet at Mamas later for dinner, then I was off. I bought some rambutans (my latest obsession), some cookies, looked at some shorts, feeling much more comfortable in this culture. I'm even learning more of the language. Jalan, jalan(walking), Satu, dua, tiga, empat, lima, enam, tujuh, delapan, sembalan, sepuluh(1-10), berapa (how much)... The problem was with the weather. I've been considering whether or not to visit Sumatra. I'm told that it is rather difficult at the best of times to get around. During the rainy season, it might be impossible. I could use the extra month and go to Vietnam, but I really would like to stay my entire time in Indonesia. Something to think about... |
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| 22 January | Yogyakarta | |
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"Selemat pagi, yeah, yeah, happy, happy!" The old woman watching the front door greets us each day as we pass by. She never says anything else, and was too shy to talk, but always, we were met by her wide toothless grin and a "Happy happy!" as we went to breakfast.
Lazy day about town. Didn't do much of anything. Richard and Sue are starting to get on my nerves. Just a bit, but we may need to split soon. The others went to the Kraton, but I couldn't be bothered. It was a sunny day for once, so I washed all my clothes. This was the first sunny day in a long while, so I must take advantage of it. Not much else all day... |
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| 23 January | Yogyakarta | |
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Up early to see Borobudur. It is a Buddhist temple built around the 9th century. It's a huge place. I was told by some students that it's one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Is it? I doubt it. I think those were all around the Mediterranean.
It was easy to get to Borobudur. A short walk to the bus station, then a single bus took us directly to the temple. (The guy asked for 1500, but we knew better). Sandra, Richard, Sue, and myself were the only westerners on the bus. It was just your usual bus ride in Indonesia. Our driver and a driver of another bus got in a race through the outskirts of the city. Our bus was in the left lane, his was in the right lane, the cars we forced off the road in our rampage were on the sidewalks... yawn
Once back in our room, Sandra suddenly announced that she was taking the next bus to the Dieng Plateau. I wasn't pleased, being left with the room to pay for all myself, but I was relieved we're splitting up as well. Things have gotten uncomfortable with her lately. 5 minutes later, she was packed and out of there. I hung around all afternoon, haggled for a ticket to Pangandaran, and got drenched in the constant rain. I went to eat dinner at Superman's alone... For about 10 seconds. First Peter (from Oz and Bali) walked in, then Tim (from the dorm room in Airlie Beach), then Andy (from Mission Beach and Cairns) all walked in minutes apart! Wow. Talk about your timing. I busily arranged to meet Peter in the morning to visit some Hindu temple, arranged a room for Andy for tomorrow when Richard and Sue move out, and walked around town with Tim. It was an eventful evening. |
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| 24 January | Yogyakarta | |
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We visited the archaeological museum and got a free tour from 2 students. The girl was very attractive, and the guy was none too subtle in his interest in her. He kept making suggestive comments, rubbing the breasts on the statues and carrying on... She just giggled and knocked him around, making embarrassed faces at Peter and myself. The museum contained some massive statues and some models and paintings of what the complex had been like when it was whole. It was a hot day, so Peter and I went back to the temple area and sat in the cool shade of one of the temples to cool off. A girl from Jakarta, maybe 18, came up to us, wanting to practice her English. She was also quite attractive and flirtatious, and kept making suggestive comments. If not for her family sitting around us, who knows? Nah. Still, it was an intriguing notion. You never know what comments could be a deadly insult, bringing on her families wrath, or what could be irresistibly charming. She took a picture of us and her together before leaving. Many Indonesian guys we've met have shown us pictures of their "English girlfriend." "She very lucky, first time she make love." And so on. I wonder what she'll tell her friends about us two... We got back to Yogya about noon, and Peter immediately took off for Borobudur. I was lazy and took another bus back to the Sosro area. I had found that the short sleeve button-up shirt I brought with me for dressier occasions was actually more comfortable to wear in hot muggy weather than a T-shirt. This afternoon, I made the enormous effort to do some shopping. For a guy who normally hates to shop, doing it in a foreign land made it even worse. I felt quite conspicuous in the department stores. I was the only westerner there. I needed to look for extra large or XXL to fit me. The sales girls were very helpful and flirtatious. They watched what type of shirt I was interested in and kept bringing over shirts I almost liked, but only two that fit me. Unfortunately, one was black, and the other, black, neither was practical for travelling. Ah well. Well, Peter didn't show up at Mamas at 7:00 like we agreed, so I went ahead and ordered a Cambodian chicken salad. Very spicy. I was pouring with sweat when it was all over. Whew! Very good. Giving up on Peter, I bought my ticket to Pangandaran next. It sounds like fun. They run a service (for the tourists of course) that first takes a bus out of town, then a ferry down river through some remote villages, then another bus at the other end into Pangandaran. I hope Peter gets his in time. Otherwise, we'll just meet there sometime... |
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| 25 January | Pangandaran | |
This morning, I had the best French Toast in my life at Superman's. It was delicious. If I had to travel to the other side of the planet for this, it was worth it! Some people turn their nose up at eating western food here in Asia. "Why don't you just go to McDonald's?" Because I don't like McD's... If I were here for only a week or two, well, sure, I should have as much of the local food as possible. But for months, I have no problem eating westerner food. Besides, I can't seem to adjust to having rice for breakfast! 
I showed up on time for the bus, but there was no sign of Peter. I wonder what happened? The bus was full with a tour group. "Now listen up people, we'll be catching the noon ferry. There's only snacks on board, so be sure to buy something at our next stop..." Groan. Tourists. At least there was plenty of leg room on the bus. There was even air conditioning in the beginning. Rather luxurious. The ferry was great. It was just the local transport, a small, rusty, ancient boat. Other than the few of us from the bus, the ferry was otherwise full of locals going about their business up and down the river. It stopped at villages along the way, so remote that no roads reach them. I was tempted to hop off and try to stay in one, but this was the last ferry of the day and I would be stuck in the heavy rain if I couldn't find a place. Maybe next time... After another short bus ride, we got to Pangandaran. The town itself wasn't much, just a bunch of guesthouses and restaurants. Every local I met was pushing Mini2, Mini2, MINI2! So, being the pig-headed bastard I am, I checked out most other places in town except for the Mini2. There were some nice places, but alone, I don't want to spend much, so I ended up at the Mini1 for 8000. Acceptable. Dinner and bed early. |
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| 26 January | Pangandaran | |
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This morning, I wanted to dive into the jungles. Lucky me, there was a national park right here. This town is located on the narrow neck of a peninsula. The end of the peninsula is the Pangandaran Nature Preserve. The LP said it cost 1000 to get in, but no one stopped me. My tour group from yesterday was there ahead of me, unfortunately. I kept stopping to let them get ahead, but they were too slow, and I kept catching up. I found some fascinating caves. I heard some bats in one, but without a torch, I couldn't see much beyond the entrance, so I'll wait until tomorrow and come prepared. The group got on my nerves, so I finally charged off the path and tramped along the coast. This is gorgeous country. Heavy green rainforest runs right down to the waterline, where a narrow band of flour fine sand divides the vegetation from the crystal blue waters. I followed a stream up to a beautiful waterfall, but then the jungle closed in over it and I couldn't go further. I had to crash through the jungle for an half hour until I stumbled across a trail. Soon after, sure enough, there was the tour group sprawled across the trail! They were dropping food wrappers on the path, trampling them into the mud, and carving their names into the trees. I picked my way through them, shuddered, then took off at a jog to leave them far behind. I took a couple turns I didn't think they'd follow, and went all the way around the coast. The trails were muddy and slippery, causing me to fall time and again into the slime. In no time, I was coated from head to toe in brown mud. Years later, my hat would still bear stains from this day that would not wash away.
Finally, just when I was getting nervous, I emerged onto a very beautiful site. The river emerged from the jungle, then danced across the rocks in a series of small pools leading up to a nice deep pool at the end before falling over the cliff down to the ocean far below. A couple was already there before me with their guide, but they were about to leave. One wondered aloud, "I can't believe you found this place without a guide!" I found out later that almost everyone hires a guide to take them to the sites in the park. I can believe it. It has the worst marked trails I've ever hiked. I was constantly backtracking to find where I lost the trail. I wasted no time after they left. I quickly dropped my pack and plunged into the pool. Ah! Just what I needed to cool down and wash off the caked mud. I paddled around in sheer delight for a while, hearing nothing but birds in the trees, a chatter of what might have been monkeys, and the water pouring into the ocean below. But then once again, the dreaded tour group emerged with screams and clicking shutters. Damn. They had taken the easy route through the center of the reserve, allowing them to catch up to me. It ruined this peaceful spot. Other than sticking around for a few minutes to ogle a girl in the group my age (she really should wear a bra under a white shirt if she goes swimming in it. grin), I got out of there as quickly as I could. Leaving the pool, it was rough going. I didn't know the way and I just couldn't find the trail. Remember, I was almost on the equator, so it was easy to tell east from west. The park jutted out like a bulb south from town, so I had no worries about getting lost. I had only to walk north and I would get back. But it was very frustrating having to constantly backtrack to find the trail. I ended up following one set of footprints the entire way. I felt like a true tracker, following broken branches, a slim crescent of a heel print, some scuffed leaves. Sometimes, I even had to get down on my knees to examine which way the tracks were going. Whew. It was hard going. I finally emerged onto the real trail again and picked up some speed. I found a beautiful white sand beach that just invited me to stay and wash off the mud of the trail, but I was out of water and lightheaded from fatigue and hunger. It was now almost 3:00, I had eaten nothing all day except for a pancake for breakfast. So I charged right back into town. I was downright filthy and my poor hat was looking especially sad, I needed that shower. After cleaning up, I ate lunch at Cilacap restaurant. Sandra was there, but she hastily left soon after I arrived and I never saw her again. Humph. Regaining my energy after the meal, I went for a walk along the beach, but a drenchfall caught up and thoroughly soaked me, forcing me back to town. While I was sitting at a restaurant watching the rain, Peter suddenly showed up. It turned out he didn't get back from Borobudur until after 7:00, then didn't have enough cash to buy a ticket. He had to wait another day to change money. He was sharing a room with a girl he met on the ferry, so no help there. We grabbed dinner together. It is very frustrating. No one in this country has small change. No matter what you buy, the person you pay never seems to have any money whatsoever with them. That may be a comment about the poverty of the people, but I suspect it has more to do with the culture, or at least the tourist culture. We had close to the exact amount for our meal, but the restaurant waiter would not give us change. He insisted that we go find someone else to give us change, a challenging task indeed. Different ways... |
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| 27 January | Pangandaran | |
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This was a relaxing day. I strolled into the park again to check out the caves I saw yesterday, this time with my torch. They were extensive. I clambered through tunnels running in all directions while disturbed bats filled the air around me. Emerging on the other side of a hill, I found myself on a lovely little beach. I saw a couple beauties sunbathing at the far end, so I strolled down. Yes, it was a couple of women in skimpy bikinis, they looked rather good. Wait, I know them, it was Kate and Judy! After saying hi and coming up to date, I sat in the shade a couple hundred metres down the beach and relaxed the day away. I read, drew, snoozed. That was about it. There were very few westerners here. Lots of locals picked through the rocks in the water, I guess looking for crabs and the like. No one tried to hassle me or sell me anything at all. Nice.
Hunger eventually drove me back to town. I ate lunch at the Sympathy Cafe. They made a good nasi goreng. Peter and Kath came by after walking around the park all morning with a guide. They had a great time, though they came back just as mud splattered and famished as I did. After showers, we three took a nice long walk along the main road, and back along the beach. Peter helped some locals pull their fish net in, posing of course for a photo. |
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| 28 January | Pangandaran | |
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We had a late start to the beach today. Peter must have jinxed me today, or perhaps it was because it was the weekend, but we couldn't get in for free today, we had to pay the 1000 to enter the park. The beach was crowded with all sorts of Indonesian weekenders, including many girls asking us to pose for pictures with them. I just lay on my sarong and drew, read, etc., enjoying the attention.
Again, hunger drove us to a restaurant. I got Peter to try a rambutan and a mangosteen, but he just said "they're OK." Some people have no taste... When we went home to get a shower, a lady came out of the room next door, offering massages. OK. Ahh. This is definitely the lifestyle I deserve! We tried dinner at a new place that evening, "Number One." It was of course excellent. It was cheap, there was great ambiance, and a very friendly staff. I ordered some traditional dish whose name I forget, but I didn't know how to approach the strange apparition that arrived. Our waiter came over, made a couple jokes at my expense, but then 'splained it to me. It was one of the best places I've eaten at yet. The tropical fruit salad was truly stupendous. |
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| 29 January | Jakarta | |
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Peter and I had done some heavy haggling for the next leg of our journey. We were going to Jakarta, but we had heard the bus ride to Bogor was stupendous, so rather than just take a bus straight to Jakarta, we would take it to Bogor, then take a train from there into Jakarta. We had done some heavy haggling for the bus trip. Thinking we had gotten a good deal, we were up early for the 6:45 bus to Bogor. A little minibus picked Peter, Kate, Judy and myself up and took us to the public bus stop just outside of town. There, we were told to hop out and get onto the public bus to Bogor. Uh huh. We had been gyped again. Oh well. 14000 was not too much more than we would have paid...
The ride into Bogor was rather incredible. The road was very narrow and winding, descending down through the clouds towards the city. We got to Bogor very late. A guy called us over to his bemo to go to the train station. He asked for 500 each, a little high, but not too much considering our large bags. I wanted to haggle some, but Kate was in a bad mood and just told me not to bother. We handed it over, and he ran off. The driver then got in, looked surprised, and asked "you want to charter bus?" OK. Yeah, gotcha again. We delayed paying until we got to the train station, and argued with the driver for about 15 seconds until he got fed up and took off. At least we didn't have to pay again. It was only 850 to Jakarta, nice and cheap, on the ekonomi train to Jakarta. It left soon after we bought our tickets. When it finally pulled up, an enormous crowd rushed it. We used our superior height and mass to withstand the people pushing from behind and kept our places near the train. When the doors opened (right in front of us), we shoved through to grab seats while most others had to stand for the 1½ hours ride. A couple of very attractive Indonesian girls were standing next to me, giggling and looking at us. Peter grabbed my phrase book and tried to piece together some chat-up lines, but he never worked up the nerve. As soon as we got to Jakarta, the sky opened up again. The place we wanted to stay was full, so we were forced to enter the deluge yet again, slogging through the streets. Kate and Judy were fed up and grabbed a grotty place at Borneo for 20k. Yuck. Pete and I decided to try one more place. Walking downstream the river which has replaced the street, Peter took a small step sideways to avoid what looked like a deep puddle. Already drenched, I just walked right in. In was right! What I thought was simply a deep puddle turned out to be one of the open sewers. I immediately sank up to my chin in the black water. Quite a puddle! I took a healthy swallow before I managed to climb out. Yuck! What a day. At Bloem Steen, they had a 15k room that was barely acceptable, but we were fed up and took it. The water turned black many times as I washed my recently soaked clothes. Dinner and early to bed after phoning home. |
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| 30 January | Jakarta | |
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Lots to do today. I needed to find STA. According to LP, it was on J Gaja Mada, NW of Madas. OK, I saw it on my map, I started walking. What the book failed to mention was that it was 4 km down the street, all the way by Kota! Argh. I got there fine, but air tickets were much too expensive to Padang, so I decided to take the ferry. A walk all the way to the other side of town took me to the Pelni office. There I found out that the boat leaves tomorrow at 9AM. Great. Second class was a little pricey, but I decided to go for it. Then the problem showed itself. 2nd class was full! There was only first and ekonomi left. I shouldn't afford 1st, and no way will I spend two days in a large room full of Indonesians all trying to practice their English. I've been warned against that! One guy told me he never slept five minutes on the entire ride because people constantly woke him up and tried to speak with him, no matter how many times he nodded off. It's not worth it for me. Damn. There goes Sumatra.
Back at the losman, Peter had finished watching the Super Bowl. We decided to succumb to temptation and went to Pizza Hut for lunch to gorge. Yum. A girl in the restaurant approached us yet again to talk. 5 minutes later she's touching my chest, saying "You're cute!" Then, she turns to Peter "You too!" "You must be TV star!", etc. If her boyfriend weren't at the next table, I would have totally misinterpreted her remarks. Hm. All day long, people would run up to me and yell out "Hi, mister!". At first, I thought it was amusing, and I would yell back Hi mister! But after the hundredth time, it became like an assault, someone running up behind me, screaming in my ear with no warning, until I cringed any time I saw someone move towards me. I found a supermarket and gave in to some cravings, buying some yogurt, apple juice, and cookies for dinner. Hung around on the balcony at the losman talking to a couple of Canadians coming the other way. They gave me a Thai phrase book. Nice. We traded recommendations on places to stay. |
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| 31 January | Bandung | |
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I made one last attempt at Sumatra this morning. There was one other office in the mall I could try to get a ticket at. The news was no different, however. There was only first and third class available. So that's it. I tried to find an earlier cheap flight to Singapore than my existing Sunday flight, but only Indian Air and the like are cheaper. No way. On to Singapore on Sunday!
I saw Peter off, then grabbed a train to Bandung to wait it out. It's too far back to Pangandaran, and there is no way I will stay in Jakarta. It was an easy ride. I decided to go with a dorm to save some money. By Moritz was a decent enough place with a friendly management, and they made me feel welcome. Even the site of the computer at the front desk was a taste of home. I felt like eating Indian food for dinner, so I went to the Braga Pub and restaurant as recommended in LP for a curry. It was nothing special, but good. Very pricey. I even had a Guinness. After I finished eating, a woman at the next table came over and talked for a while. She leant over once, grabbed my leg, and said to me "Good body!" I'm getting to like this place! She had to grab a cab, and vanished soon after. I'm just confused what she wanted from me. This looks like a good enough town, but I'm not sure I will want to spend 4 days here until my flight... We'll see tomorrow... |
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| 1 February | Bandung | |
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Bad night. The room was stifling hot, then the 3 Germans in my room came in at 9:00 (right when I went to sleep), rudely turned the light on, smoked, talked for an hour, then went downstairs. They stayed very loud until after 1:00, when they finally turned in. I'm up at 5:00 as usual. Groan. Needless to say, I made no efforts to be quiet as I got ready for the day. A good breakfast was included in my stay. A tasty large jaffle with tea for me.
I decided to check out a couple other places for my own room. I first went to Le Yossie around the corner. A basic single cost 8000. Hm. The guy there said that he could show me some nicer places if I was interested. Why not. He leads me to 2 Patrissen hotels. The first was very nice. It had a private bath, was impeccably clean, but cost 17000. Still, I liked it, it was just a little remote. The second place was much fancier, but not so nice. It even had bedbugs. I don't think so. My friend's name today was Achmed Sa, a funny man. Ramadhan started today and he was going on about how he had overslept. He cannot eat until tonight. "Very hungry!" He does a great German impression. "Ya, ya" We got back to Yossie, and he didn't ask for anything except for me to stop by and see him, so he wasn't in it for more than maybe a commission, but also being friendly. Good to see. I think I'll be sticking around Moritz for at least one more night, though. I cooled back at my room, then set off again around town. I took a long walk up to "Jeans St." Dozens of shops all selling jeans and T-shirts, with blaring music and huge statues outside. There was everything from a giant Indonesian Superman to James Bond, the Power Rangers, you name it, it was there. I wasn't in a shopping mood, so I just strolled along, looking at the various displays. I worked up an appetite, but I couldn't find any food for sale (remember: Ramadhan). Fed up with this, I decided to visit the supermarket for grub, and eat on the balcony back at Moritz. No sooner did I get back near the center of town but I heard "Seán! Seán!" behind me. There's Andy. He caught up again. He and Rasmas (Dane) skipped Pangandaran and went to the Dieng Plateau instead. I bought a bunch of junk food, yogurt, and apple juice as they waited outside, and we walked back. They're off to Jeans St. themselves now, but I didn't feel like going again so we arranged to meet later for dinner. Then, all afternoon, I just sat on my balcony, drew, wrote, gorged on cookies and soda, and planned future travels... Over dinner with the others, we all decided to move on to Bogor tomorrow. Bandung's just too big a city to deal with for 4 more days... It's the 3rd largest city in Indonesia, following Jakarta and Surabaya. |
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| 2 February | Bogor | |
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Usual early rise. I felt fine today, but I had some very minor food poisoning from dinner last night, a painful gut was all. I've been lucky so far with no problems from the food. I hope my luck's not changing... I met the other guys (staying at Yossie) and we hopped a bemo to the bus station. We only paid 300 each (the local rate) for the bemo, plus 25000 (again the local price) for the bus. I like it!
It was a beautiful ride to Bogor, but again, just like last time, as soon as we get close to Bogor, the skies open up. "Rainy Bogor" as the locals call it. They supposedly have around 332 thunderstorms a year. At the station, I found a familiar setting, but didn't see the guy who ripped me off last time. Indeed, we were confronted by a dilemma: 400-500 for a bemo, then a long walk in the downpour, or 2500 for all three of us to take a taxi right to our front door. You guessed it. Lazy buggers. We got to Pensione Firman and checked into a room. They wanted 21000 for a 3 share, a bit pricey, but not too bad. It was a very nice place. It was airy, they had nice couches in the open-air porch, free tea, coffee, and the people were friendly. I think I'll tell LP to up their recommendation for this place. We ate lunch on the porch while the sky continued to fall outside. Sunny Bogor. That was the day... |
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| 3 February | Bogor | |
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No rain this morning! Taking advantage of this, we visited the Botanical Gardens. They were supposed to be fantastic. Perhaps nice for Asia, but not too special anywhere else, I thought. They had a huge collection of tropical plants and a virtual maze of trails.
We wandered the streets looking for food. It was not exactly easy in this town during Ramadhan. The couple places we did find looked very dodgy. Finally Rasmas exploded, "Lets just eat somewhere!" Well, okay... Edible if pricey. We then wandered out to the Kantor Pos (post office) to post some cards, then to the train station to check on the train for tomorrow. Andy tried to use his chess computer to beat a local on the street with a chess problem, but the guy changed the setup by the time we get back. The others went back to the stay, but I needed some rambutans. I wandered the streets until I found a market area. I was in a good mood, greeting people "Hello Mister!" all over. I found the best fruit on offer and turned to haggle. Berapa, satu kilo? Satu kilo, durabura rupiah. Mahal! Limaratus! Limaratus? Tidak! Bagus, bagus, seraburu. Tujupuluh. OK. Back to eat! I wolfed the entire bunch down as usual. I will miss these when I leave the area. Selemat pagi, yeah, yeah, happy, happy! |
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| 4 February | Jakarta | |
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Up early and onto the train no problem. At Jakarta, I tried again to get into the Rose Maria, but no luck. We ended up at Wilma Wisata YHA. Not good, but good enough. I checked for mail again. Nothing, so I forwarded any that might arrive on to Bangkok and passed the rest of day best I could...
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©Copyright Seán Connolly |
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