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Published: March 22nd 2009
Day 260: Monday 16th March - The experiences you can’t plan
You don’t need an alarm clock to get up in Indonesia. Whether it be the prayer call from a mosque or a rooster, you can almost guarantee a wake up call before you need to get up. I’m woken - this time by a rooster - at 5:30am. I need to be up early anyway to catch a boat back across from the Gili Islands to Lombok. I bump into Ivy again when I go to get the boat. She has ended up doing a night on each of the three Gili Islands. She gives me some really useful tips on where to go in Jakarta, Indonesia’s capital, where I will arrive later this week. Ivy has been living there for several months so she knows what she’s talking about. I ask her how she managed to get such a long visa and she tells me that her Dad is the US ambassador to Indonesia. A useful contact to have if you’re American!! When we arrive back at Bangsal harbour in Lombok we transfer to a bus to take us on to Senggigi and then me on to the
airport in Mataram. I have a couple of hours to wait for my flight so I take advantage of the only really decent internet connection I’ve had so far in Indonesia.
Despite their poor safety record, Lion Air manage to fly me to Surabaya in Java in one piece. It’s only a 45 minute flight, literally hopping over Bali to eastern Java. Surabaya is one of Indonesia’s biggest cities and is covered in smog when I arrive. It’s not really a concern as I’m not stopping, only passing through as I travel east in the direction of Mount Bromo. First, I have to get an airport bus to Surabaya’s main bus station. Once there, I catch a bus to Probolinggo, two hours east of Surabaya. A couple of observations I’ve made already in my short stay in Java are that it is very busy and that this is most definitely a Muslim island as a good number of the women are wearing a hijab. It does appear to be one of the more moderate Islam states though. Java is the heart of the Indonesian nation, home to more than 50% of Indonesia’s 250 million people and is also the
political and economic centre of the archipelago. Despite being the most populated island on the planet it isn’t however that big, it’s only half the size of the UK but has double the amount of people. The UK is overcrowded so what does that make Java??
In Probolinggo I have to change on to another bus to take me to Cemoro Lawang, the village on the lip of Mount Bromo’s crater, and a further two hour drive away. As I walk through the bus station, a travel agent leads me to their shop where they give me some helpful background information on Bromo, how to get there and costs and what I should pay for a room in Cemoro Lawang. Most importantly though they give me a map of the volcano and show me where to go to get the best views. After all this advice I feel obliged to buy a ticket on there more pricey shuttle bus to Yogyakarta tomorrow, but hopefully it will be more comfortable than the bus. I then follow a guy who is lurking in the shadows to a bemo which is waiting outside the bus terminal which is going to Mount Bromo.
At one point there are 20 people packed inside, which falls just short of the record 25 I saw in one in Chiclayo, Peru. Over the course of the next half hour or so all the locals are dropped off in villages surrounding Probolinggo until just me and an Austrian guy, Phillip are left. The bemo driver now decides to terminate the journey with us still only half way to Bromo. The two of us climb into another bemo which is sat waiting but after half an hour there are no more passengers and it doesn’t look as if it’s going to be leaving. The best option now is to get an ojek (motorbike) ride up to Cemoro Lawang. And so with my 18 kilo rucksack on my back and with my daypack strapped to the chest of Tembul, my driver, we set off for the hour climb up through the mountains and past terraces where every crop and vegetable imaginable is being grown. The views in the fading daylight are spectacular, the ride is a thrill despite my thighs aching something rotten by the time we arrive. The last part of my day long journey was totally unexpected and
unplanned but it lit up an otherwise dull day of travel.
I’m up above 2000 metres altitude so it is much cooler and a welcome break from the heat at sea level. The hotel owners try to overcharge me for breakfast but this time I’m wise to it. Mind you today I’ve probably already overpaid for my bus to Probolinggo and my shuttle bus tomorrow to Yogyakarta. I did alright on the bemo ride though and had a laugh bargaining with Tembul for my ojek ride so it’s not all bad. You just never should accept the first price an Indonesian offers you as it will be too high. At the same time not getting too hung up with it if you are overcharged and a good sense of humour whilst bargaining are vital to get the most out of your time in Indonesia. I get a bite to eat with two Finnish girls who are sitting in the restaurant at the same time as me and arrange to walk to Bromo with them tomorrow. I want to see the the sunrise from the top so I’ll have to be up at 3am, so it’s a welcome early night
for me.
Day 261: Tuesday 17th March - The lunar landscape of Mount Bromo
It’s 3:15am but myself, Haine and Salak (I hope my spelling is correct, Finnish girl’s names isn’t a strong point!!) have all managed to drag ourselves out of bed to climb Mount Penanjakan. Penanjakan is the mountain I was advised to climb by the agency when I stopped in Probolinggo, as this is the location where all the photos of Mount Bromo are taken from. We have a two hour climb to ascend the 500-600 metres from our start point at 2200 metres. Initially we follow the road towards Penanjakan without really climbing. I’m feeling nauseous and I can’t work out whether it is the altitude, the effects of an early morning or the start of a cold which I’ve felt coming on in the last 24 hours. Probably a combination of the three, I’m glad when we reach the view point half way up as I seem to get a second wind. Just to get here has been a challenge, as soon as we left the road, following the path in the dark has been tricky and we end up going the wrong
way on one occasion. Fortunately, we can hear another group who have a guide and we quickly catch them up on the right path. Our detour doesn’t cost us much time and we should still make it to the top for the sunrise, especially now there is some natural light illuminating our path. It takes us a further 45 minutes to reach the top at 5:30am, by which time the sun has recently risen.
The viewpoint at the top of Mount Penanjakan is crowded with people, mostly Indonesian tourists, and by the number of jeeps we’ve walked past on the last stretch, most people who have driven up. It hasn’t been that difficult a climb but rewarding, definitely. Gunung Bromo’s extraordinary volcanic landscape is almost surreal, belonging to another world. The smoking cone of Bromo is one of three volcanoes to emerge from a vast caldera, the Tengger Massif (which measures 10km across), its steep walls plunging down to a vast, flat sea of lava and sand. It has a supernatural beauty in the early morning sun. An even larger volcanic cone, Gunung Semuru (3676m) overlooks Bromo, and the whole view is spellbinding. Mention of volcanoes is synonymous with
Indonesia, and one of the main images I associated with the archipelago before my visit. There are 129 active volcanoes in the country, which surely must be the most volcanic country in the world?
The three of us get some Bakso (a tasty Indonesian soup of noodles, meat and dumplings) ahead of our descent, utterly confusing the stallholder over payment in the process. Haine and Salak decide that they want to go down on the back of a motorbike, but I would like to walk down hopefully finding the route that will take me down into the Tengger Massif crater along the way. It is quite treacherous going down, the ground is slippy and I’m glad that my walking poles save me a few times. I don’t see any path that leads down into the crater, so I take the same path as we came up on, arriving back in Cemoro Lawang an hour and a half later. Haine and Salak are enjoying breakfast and tell me there motorbike ride went across the floor of the Tengger Massif crater, so I’m a bit envious that I didn’t take one now. I haven’t the time to walk down into the
crater and get back for a bus to Probolinggo which will leave in about an hour and a half. Instead, on their recommendation, I walk to the edge of Cemoro Lawang, on the lip of the crater and stare down into the vast caldera where Mount Bromo sits smoking.
When I come to leave, a guy from the hotel is taking a group of Canadian guests back to Probolinggo and offers me a lift. I hop into the more comfortable and quicker ride down to Probolinggo as the price is the same as the public bus. It is interesting talking to the Canadian retirees who have been travelling in SE Asia for 5 months and give me plenty of advice on places to visit and also my next destination, Yogyakarta. I arrive back in the heat and humidity of Probolinggo at 10:15am and have to wait until midday for by shuttle to Yogyakarta. It’s my fault I have to wait so long as I told the agency that I wanted the transport at 12 rather than 11 which they initially offered. I was concerned I wouldn’t get back from Bromo in time if it was to leave at 11am,
but that hasn’t proved an issue. When it is time to leave, I’m the only passenger. I’m a bit confused as to why we couldn’t have left earlier if they knew I was the only passenger. Still, I shouldn’t complain as at least I have space to stretch out, in my own chauffer driven transport! I’m glad of it as the journey is hot and gruelling as we travel over 9 hours west, covering about a third of Java’s length. We stop only once on the way for some refreshment. I have Gato Gato (vegetables in a peanut sauce) which I’ve been told is good, but it isn’t one of my favourite Indonesian dishes. We arrive in Yogyakarta approaching 10pm, my driver dropping me off at the area where backpacker accommodation is plentiful. The first place is full, the second too pricey, and I’m too exhausted to be bothered by the third. I take it and if it’s not up to scratch I can always change tomorrow.
Day 262: Wednesday 18th March - Yogyakarta, the cultural and artistic heart of Indonesia
My first act of the day is to write a list of what I need to do
this morning: laundry, arrange transfer to Borobodur, get train ticket to Jakarta, check out other hotels and guesthouses in the area and get breakfast. A walk around the corner and I’ve resolved four of the five - the train ticket can wait until tomorrow. Kusdi, my new friend, has a room for 10,000 Rupiah (60 pence) a night less than I’m paying which includes breakfast and he’ll throw in today’s for free into the bargain. He also sorts out my laundry for me and a ticket to Borobudur for Friday. Now that’s what I call a one shop stop! I’m normally loathe to transfer accommodation once I’ve arrived somewhere and this is the first time I can recall doing it on my trip but my instinct that my hotel last night was overpriced was correct. Okay I’ve had to sacrifice a TV in the bargain but that’s a waste of time when you can’t understand Indonesian!
Despite being loaded with cold and feeling a bit grotty I decide to go and explore Yogyakarta. I haven’t yet had a Becak ride (cycle taxi) and I barely get off the tight lane I’m staying on before get an offer of a
ride. Now the fun part of bargaining and these Becak riders are notoriously hard to negotiate with. I play them off against each other before getting a fair price and climb aboard the seat at the front of the Becak for my ride down to the Sultan’s palace. Yogyakarta is still headed by a Sultan, the current one being the tenth. The Sultan’s Kraton or Palace remains the focus of traditional life in Yogyakarta, however as a spectacle it is underwhelming. Information on the palaces, temples and treasures within the Kraton is non-existent and because of this it is hard to understand what you are looking at. The highlight of my visit is the Gamelan rehersal (traditional Indonesian music on percussion instruments) and puppet show which I catch the back end of.
The Kraton may be underwhelming and the nearby water palace, a complex of pools and palaces which was built in the 18th century falls into the same category. What isn’t underwhelming is the friendliness of the Javanese people. Yesterday on the car ride down from Mount Bromo, one of the Canadian ladies commented that the Indonesian people were the friendliest in South-East Asia. The look I gave
her was first one of astonishment and then I enquired as to where they had visited as this hadn’t been my experience to date. Her response was, “oh, only one week in Yogyakarta”. Over the course of the day I have an almost endless stream of locals that befriend me then either show me around places, take me to places I’d never otherwise find or give me local tips on where to go in the city. Through these encounters with locals I get taken to see Wayang Kulit puppets being made out of buffalo hide. Wayang Kulit performances are famous in Yogyakarta and I hope to be able to see one in my time here. I then get shown around the water palace and bird market by another local. For this I have to pay a small tip but in return I get some valuable background information and I don’t think I would have found them otherwise in the maze of alleys that is the Kraton complex. Whilst the Sultan’s palace is still lived in by the current Sultan, the water palace - a private bathing area with adjacent rooms - was abandoned by the previous Sultan and is no
longer used. My guide also tells me that the current Sultan has 5 daughters and so the future of the Sultan’s Palace is in doubt as normally the eldest son becomes the next Sultan. The bird market holds more interest than the two palaces. Clearly a popular pet with locals, thousands of songbirds can be found in cages. The name of the market doesn’t tell the full story as I see bats, lizards, pythons, snakes, dogs, cats, mice and cockerels all caged in what seems like an overgrown pet shop.
Leaving the Kraton complex behind and declining numerous offers of a Becak ride, I walk back towards my accommodation. On the way I meet another couple of friendly locals. The first tells me that the best Batik can be found in the gallery of the local art students. As he departs after a brief chat, another local guy takes up the baton, agreeing with the opinion of the other guy and offers to take me there. These Javanese are so friendly but they do have one downside in that every Javan or make that every Indonesian seems to support Liverpool! In the Batik gallery I am first shown the
process which they make the Batik, using natural dyes and wax to create the designs which can take up to a month to complete on cloth. I am then left to peruse through the gallery, with a price list in hand. Half an hour later and I’ve picked out two Batik paintings that I can’t separate and therefore part with a cool 1.3 million Rupiah (£80) for two huge paintings. It’s a lot of money and something that at the start of the day I hadn’t planned to buy but they’re beautiful paintings and £80 for two is a bargain in reality as they’re really good quality. My only regret is not taking a photo of them as they’re still in their frames....nevermind. Hopefully, the artists will contact me to let me know the meaning of their art as I leave my contact details. Without my local friends I would never have found the place, so thank you. I finish my afternoon with a bowl of Bakso with the hottest chilli sauce the warung (stall) holder has as I try and clear my head cold. I wash the Bakso down with the local soft drink, Pocari Sweat. The name sounds
disgusting but it’s good, like a natural lemon juice. However, with no instant reprieve to my head cold I hope that an extended sleep may do me some good.
Day 263: Thursday 19th March - The Prambanan temples
My head feels like there is a Gamelan performance going on inside it all day. There is still plenty I want to see around Yogyakarta, so there’s no point feeling sorry for myself. I catch a surprisingly modern bus to Prambanan on the outskirts of the city, half an hour away. Prambanan is the world’s eighth largest Hindu complex. A pretty useless fact, goodness knows where the largest seven are (India maybe??) but it helps to put the size of the place in context. Many of the temples were damaged by a large earthquake in 2006, and evidence of restoration work can still be seen around the site. Built in the ninth century AD, the complex at Prambanan was mysteriously abandoned after its completion. The Prambanan temple complex consists of 16 temples on the main platform. The main temple, the Shiva temple is the largest at 47 metres tall and also the most lavish. It is flanked by the slightly
smaller Vishnu and Brahma temples with the smaller still vehicle temples of Nandi, Garuda and Angsa standing in front of the main three. Nine much smaller temples complete the main platform, which is then surrounded by 224 shrines, largely standing in ruin. It is mightily impressive even after the damage which the earthquake caused. A couple of local boys practice their English on me whilst giving me a mumbled, unclear guided tour of the complex. I shouldn’t criticise as I didn’t mind one bit and their English is light years ahead of my Bahasa Indonesian!
In the evening I have a debate in my head over whether I’m feeling up to seeing a Wayang Kulit (Shadow Puppet) performance. In the end I decide to as I may not get the opportunity again. I take a becak down to near the Kraton to see the two hour show. There is an audience of four - clearly the off-season in Yogyakarta’s tourism. The artwork and the craftsmanship is tremendous on the Wayang Kulit puppets, the show itself is very clever accompanied by Gamelan music. However, it goes on about an hour too long for me and in the absence of air-conditioning
in the theatre I find myself dosing a few times. The guy who runs it wants to show me his collection of puppets at home after the show (presumably in the hope of a sale) but I need my bed, especially with an early start tomorrow.
Day 264: Friday 20th March - Borobodur
It sounds like a character out of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, but no Borobodur is the largest Buddhist monument in the world. It certainly has a touch of fantasy about it on first viewing as it towers above the surrounding trees. The temple consists of ten levels, seven square bases - five containing intricate carvings which represent the most complete story of Buddha’s life found anywhere in the world - are topped by three circular ones. The circular platforms contain 73 larger than human size latticed Stupas shaped like the school bells of yesteryear. On the five terraces sit 432 Buddha images, the scale of the monument is immense. Borobodur was built in the ninth century but with the decline of Buddhism it was abandoned, to be rediscovered in 1814 when Raffles governed Java. I’m here at the best time of the day, just
after sunrise, the temperature is cool and the hordes have yet to arrive and it’s peaceful sitting on the top of the temple in quiet reflection as the morning mist hangs around the lush surrounding valley. The tour I’ve joined gives us two hours at Borobudur - just enough - before we stop at Mendut temple on the way back to Yogyakarta. I’ve had my fill of temples for the week, so I decline the opportunity to go inside. After seeing the special Borobodur there’s only one way to go, and that is down.
The remainder of the day I kill time waiting for my night train to Jakarta. I change my ticket for a later train which will get me into Jakarta at the slightly less ungodly hour of 6am instead of 4am. For this it costs 2000 Rupiah, next to nothing but if I hadn’t been so hasty in the first place when I booked my ticket I would have saved myself 60,000 Rupiah (£4). Still, not much in the scheme of things. With the baking temperatures making travel during the day oppressive I’ve decided I won’t travel any great distance again during the day if I
can help it during my remaining time in Indonesia. I’ve enjoyed Yogyakarta, my first experience of an Indonesian city. I suppose my overriding memory will be that of the Borobodur and Prambanan temples but the friendliness of the people will also hold a special place in my recollection of the cultural heart of Indonesia.
Day 265: Saturday 21st March - If I can’t go to all of Indonesia, I’ll bring all of Indonesia to me
Travelling executive class on Indonesia’s railways to is tantamount to spending 9 hours in the fridge. The air-conditioning is cranked up so high I have to resort to my four season sleeping bag for the journey after I wake up freezing. Otherwise the journey is a blur, I’m so tired I’m falling asleep on the platform waiting for the train. It also is late getting into Jakarta which is a good thing as I don’t have to hang about in the station killing time waiting for hostels etc to open. I walk down to the area that houses the backpacking accommodation in the city and have no joy at the first two places as they’re full but strike lucky at the third attempt.
Striking it lucky isn’t really an appropriate phrase. Dark, I’m offered a small sparse room a shared toilet and shower. It’s possibly the worst room I’ve had in my time in Indonesia. The trouble is I don’t think there are many better options. My main concern is the security though. There is no lock on the door, which means I have to use my combination lock on the outside which seems a bit futile as a hefty push and the door would break through anyway.
Across from my accommodation is a travel agency which I make my first visit of the day. I need a flight ticket for the next leg of my journey, Medan the capital of Sumatra. I searched on the net yesterday afternoon and could find nothing better than 900,000 Rupiah which I thought was a bit expensive. The agency manages to get me a ticket for 600,000 Rupiah but only if I take the later flight in the day. I think I’d rather stay in Jakarta just a day and a half rather than stay an extra day, especially with my accommodation situation, so I book a ticket for tomorrow evening. On this occasion not being
hasty has paid off....make a mental note.
I spend my first day in Indonesia’s capital at Taman Mini Indonesia Indah. I’m struggling to describe what this is. What I do know is that my guidebook brushes over it without going into much detail leading me to surmise that it’s not worth the considerable effort of getting there, whereas a certain travel writer rates this place highly. Both can’t be right. I’ve worked out what this place reminds me of. It is like a poor man’s Epcot, the famous Walt Disney theme park in Florida. Built around a lake are 26 areas, each containing buildings (houses in the main) in the style of each of the areas of the archipelago. Inside the houses are decked out true to the culture they represent and have native clothing displays as well. The theme park also has a few other museums and what looks like some rides for the kids. It all sounds good but it doesn’t quite work. It could be great if someone in charge had some vision and stopped allowing vehicles inside the park and improved the labelling and displays within the houses. Instead, it isn’t really anything, save a
weekend getaway for the locals from the hectic pace of the city, but this isn’t really the raison d’etre of the park. The colourful Sumatran houses, the longhouses of Kalimantan and the strange boat shaped houses on stilts from South Sulawesi are my favourite. The attendant in the Toraja house from South Sulawesi speaks good English and gives a good insight into the strange Toraja culture. Otherwise, I’m in the dark, no displays are in English (there’s not much in Indonesian neither) and the attendants are either not present, aren’t interested or can’t speak good enough English. I came here to bring Indonesia to me as I can’t see all of Indonesia in my remaining time on my visa. Disappointed I leave thinking my guidebook got in right.
I mentioned about the considerable effort to get to Taman Mini. Well on the way there it wasn’t too bad, just one bus and a short walk meant it took me little over an hour. Returning to central Jakarta is another matter. Five buses, (four of them supposedly express) and two and a half hours later and I’ve managed to cover the 15km required. Jakarta is one busy city, chaotic and
difficult to travel across with any great speed.
Day 266: Sunday 22nd March - Colonial Jakarta
I have a morning and part of the afternoon ahead of my flight to Sumatra early this evening. Jakarta seems short of tourist attractions that appeal when I thumb through the guidebook although a trip to Kota, the colonial area of Jakarta sounds promising. First, I stroll up to Freedom square to see the national monument, which is as close as Jakarta comes to having a central landmark. The presidential palace is a short walk further, although when I try to take a photo one of the guards gets jumpy and ‘shoos’ me off. There’s not much to see anyway to I happily oblige before battling with the traffic to catch a bus north to Kota. Jakarta’s colonial heart is Kota, home to the remnants of the Dutch capital of Batavia, which is what the Dutch used to call Jakarta. Before 1945, Indonesia was known as the Dutch East Indies, after the war it finally won independence. Kota is a landmark to colonial splendour of yesteryear, today it is crumbling and its best days are behind it. I take a break from
the hectic Jakarta and enjoy a drink in Cafe Batavia. Dating from 1805, I enjoy the peace and quiet of the quintessential colonial surrounds - teak floors, baroque mirrors, deco sofas, a sweeping bar and black and white pictures of yesterday’s stars - as I have the place to myself for an hour. I think the price of drinks has something to do with it - 40,000 Rupiah (£2.50) for a non-alcoholic cocktail - three times what I would pay elsewhere.
Cafe Batavia is probably my favourite thing about Jakarta. However, it is the contrary to the real Jakarta which is busy, dirty, polluted and over-crowded. This city is functional rather than holding any great thrills for the tourist. I think I would rank it near the bottom along with Lima of the capital cities I’ve visited on my trip. The rest of Java has been great, just give its capital a wide berth. One commentator said that they would ‘rather hang myself than spend another night in Jakarta’. This is a touch extreme but I understand the sentiments and I look forward to getting to the airport and escaping to some more tranquil surroundings and leaving this mega
city of 15 million people behind.
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