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Even things that are far apart can meet as one… ~ Indonesian Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were travelling to
Jakartafrom Australia – via Hobart and Sydney
Indonesia – an archipelago of islands just northwest of our own island country (Australia). I’ve been more than aware of it for the best part of my life. Great surf, great climate, great topography, great food, great lifestyle. Yet I’ve not visited until now. There are a few reasons for that:
> Firstly, the world is big, and we tend to travel far rather than near. Indonesia is one of our nearest neighbours, and we’ve always looked beyond its shores to faraway lands.
> Secondly, the country has had its fair share of bad press, mostly caused by foreign tourists disregarding local values, customs and ethics, but also by ruthless and cowardly terrorists intent on destroying those that do not share their faith.
>Thirdly, the country has had its fair share of catastrophic natural disasters, including the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami that had such a devastating human toll, along with a detrimental long-term impact on local tourism.
Yet here we are, embarking on an exciting Indonesian adventure. We are only visiting two islands on this trip – Java and Bali. The country comprises
around 17,000 islands, but there is only so much we can see. We’ll try to ignore the shenanigans of clueless foreign tourists, and we’ll also try to ignore the spectre of terrorism. As for natural disasters, there’s not a lot we can do.
I’m looking forward to this trip for a number of different reasons. In my vegetarian years I consumed a sizable quantity of anglicised Indonesian-style food. My stand-out favourite was
gado-gado (vegetables with peanut sauce), which I used to buy religiously from a long-gone eatery in Hobart called
Little Bali. I’m looking forward to sampling the real deal.
I’m also looking forward to experiencing the coastal scenery of Java and Bali. My surfing years are behind me (for now), but I still feel a strong affinity with the smell, sound, taste and touch of ocean water, and the solitude of wild deserted beaches. I know the Indonesian beaches we visit won’t be deserted, but the prospect of experiencing the Indonesian coastline is very alluring.
Uluwatu, one of the key surf spots in Bali, was always featured in the surf magazines and videos that I consumed as a young teenager in Tasmania. The ocean waters surrounding
Tasmania are cold at the best of times, and I lived in a wetsuit in every season. However, the ocean waters surrounding Java and Bali are warm. In the magazines and videos I pored through as a kid, the surf adventurers in Indonesia were wearing nothing but boardshorts. I used to dream of surf beaches where the water was warm.
There is another reason I am looking forward to this trip. Indonesia features in the work of one of my favourite authors – Joseph Conrad. Following some insightful pre-travel research on Ren’s part, I purchased
An Outcast of the Islands, Conrad’s second novel. Long out of print and difficult to source, I managed to acquire a pristine copy from Adelaide Booksellers. I doubt it had ever been opened. It arrived in a matter of days, and I read it quickly. I was absolutely transfixed.
The book offers a cynical view of colonialism in 19th century Indonesia. While for the most part fictional, the villages and trading posts described in the novel are based on places that Conrad visited, stories he heard and people he met during his voyages in the Indonesian archipelago in the 1880s and early 1890s.
I knew our Indonesian adventure was going to be hot and humid. The country sits on the equator, and its climate is mostly tropical. However, Conrad’s highly evocative language ratcheted things up a little, as evidenced by the following paragraph:
The light and heat fell upon the settlement, the clearings, and the river as if flung down by an angry hand. The land lay silent, still, and brilliant under the avalanche of burning rays that had destroyed all sound and all motion, had buried all shadows, had choked every breath. No living thing dared to affront the serenity of this cloudless sky, dared to revolt against the oppression of this glorious and cruel sunshine. Strength and resolution, body and mind alike were helpless, and tried to hide before the rush of the fire from heaven.
Joseph Conrad, An Outcast of the Islands
The rush of the fire from heaven! Far out! There’ll be no escaping the heat in Indonesia.
Anyway, enough musings on my part and more about the journey itself. The day before we left Australia, we dropped Oliver (the kelpie) and Mia (the cat) at their respective lodgings. For only the second time in our
pre-travel preparations, I noticed Oliver didn’t want us to leave, and he REALLY didn’t want to stay at the kennels. When he got out of the car, he pinned himself to my leg and looked at me with pleading eyes. “Dad, don’t leave me here. Not with all these dogs.” I struggled to leave him. In his older years, he has adopted a reasonably sedentary lifestyle. Breakfast; a walk with me in the morning; a long nap until lunch; a long nap until dinner; a long nap in front of the fire after dinner; a very long nap in our bedroom until the following day. He loves his daily routine, yet suddenly, we expected him to co-exist with heaps of other dogs in a large, loud and lively kennel. Who can blame him for not wanting to be there. I looked at him gently, stroked his chest and told him we’d be back soon. I knew it was a lie, because a month isn’t ‘soon’… but his eyes were imploring and I had to do something!
Mia was another story altogether. When she realised we were leaving for an extended period, she decided to take matters into her own
paws. She’d noticed the signs – half open packs with clothes strewn inside; travel books all through the house (she’s a smart cat); Indonesian travel videos screening every night (she’s a very smart cat). Yet she’d put all this out of her mind until 10 minutes before we left the house. And then she decided to hide behind the couch. Out of reach and beyond bribery. As I lay on the floor with my arm stretched towards her as far as I could reach, she just started at me. I could see her eyes, and I knew what she was thinking. “If I make it impossible for Dad to get me, he’ll just give up and leave me here.”
But of course, we couldn’t do that. So, we had to move the couch. Literally
move the couch. And still she refused to budge. So, we had get behind the couch and scruff her. She REALLY didn’t want to go to the cattery. But that’s exactly where we took her. I knew she’d forgive us when we returned, but it was hard. When we pushed her into her private enclosure, she looked at me pleadingly, and I knew what she
was trying to say: “Dad, don’t leave me here. Not with all these cats.”
So, that was the day before we left. We had a very early start on the day we actually left. Up at 2am; in the shower at 3am; driving out the gate at 4am; turning into the undercover carpark at 4:45am; arriving at Hobart Airport at 5am; boarding the plane at 5:45am; lifting off at 6:10am. A lonely moon shimmered in the dark morning sky over kunyani/Mount Wellington as we hurtled into the stratosphere. It was a beautiful sight. We were Sydney bound, and it wasn’t long before we touched down at Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport.
We waited in line for the bus to the international terminal, then made our way through customs. Ren breezed through, but the security gate wouldn’t open for me. Why? Because I repeatedly put my passport upside down into the electronic passport reader. Those behind me edged into adjacent queues, frustrated by my inability to operate the damn machine. When I finally realised which way my passport needed to face, I was through in no time. How embarrassing!
After a quick gin tasting on our way through the
international terminal (and there’s nothing quite like a straight gin at 9:30am in the morning), we explored the shops, grabbed a few iconic terminal photos and settled in an empty gate lounge to sit out our five-hour stopover in Sydney.
We eventually sped down one of Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport’s busy runways at 2pm. Our flight may have been packed, but the flying conditions were ideal. It was a fantastic feeling knowing we would arrive at our destination (Jakarta) within eight hours, and that our flight was direct without any stops. Anything under eight hours is a short international flight for us!
Lunch was pretty good. We both ordered the chicken satay, and it was okay. The rice was reasonably spicy and the chicken was tender. It was the wine, however, that was the lunch standout. A shiraz from Gomersal Wines, a boutique winery nestled in the Barossa Valley. I had a couple of glasses. Lunch was followed with Paddle Pops (a blast from the past), Tim Tams and hot tea. And all the while, the vast Australian mainland spread to the horizon below us as we continued our northwest journey to Jakarta.
Following some further insightful
pre-travel research on Ren’s part, I purchased another book –
A House in Bali – by Colin McPhee. I wasn’t aware of the author or the book prior to our travels, but the premise of this particular work fascinated me. McPhee, a Canadian composer and writer, became obsessed with Balinese music after hearing old gramophone recordings in 1929 – so much so that he spent a decade living on the island during the 1930s. In the book he chronicles his daily life in a house in Kedaton, and then in a traditional
kampong (a collection of wooden structures) in Sayan. Hence the title of his book.
I read half the book before we left, and I’ll read the other half when we return from our travels. In between living in his two houses in Bali, McPhee travelled to Paris, where he discovered the Western music he once loved no longer held the same appeal:
I went to concerts only to listen with restlessness, for the programmes of new music that I once delighted in now seemed suddenly dull and intellectual. I cared even less for the eloquence of the romantic symphonies. As I sat in the concert halls I thought of the sunny music I had listened to in the open air, among people who talked and laughed, hearing yet not hearing the musicians, but cheered and exhilarated by the sounds. Here, as I looked about me in the hall, I felt suddenly shut in, and I could hardly wait for the end of the concert. The huge orchestras sounded torpid and mechanized. The basses dragged, the drums were heavy as lead, and I could no longer listen to the endless legato of the violins.
Colin McPhee, A House in Bali
This is exactly how I feel when listening to overly pompous classical music, so I fully understood McPhee’s plight. He couldn’t get back to Bali quickly enough. I couldn’t wait to experience the
sunny music he described so eloquently, played by Balinese musicians in the open air.
Throughout the flight we snacked on soy crisps, pretzels and curry puffs, and we stockpiled a few packets of salted caramel biscuits to enjoy with hot cups of tea in our Indonesian hotel rooms. I also enjoyed a very refreshing whiskey as I read during the flight.
SHE SAID... We were very proud of how
organised we were with packing and getting ready for this trip. We had the luxury of drawing up
To Do lists a whole two weeks before, and then proceeded to get everything done in a methodical way. Is there anything more satisfying than ticking off items on a
To Do list in a timely manner? Okay, maybe that’s just me. 😊
We had to be particularly prepared, because the degree of difficulty of leaving for a trip is always higher when it’s cold. We were in the height of autumn weather in Tasmania, and this normally goes one of two ways – brisk sunny days with bright blue skies framing the autumnal colours of our deciduous trees (I absolute love these days!); or, we can have grey misty days that are consumed by rain; or a non-stop drizzle that lasts up to a week.
We had a mix of all of these in the last few days, but I’m happy to report that the dreary weather didn’t bother me like it usually does… I was already basking in thoughts of our warm tropical holiday that was only days away. As I typed this just now, I wondered if
I’ve inevitably jinxed our chances of good weather in Indonesia! I hope not!
We were catching that most despised of flights out of Hobart – the 6am one! And it was very cold and dark when the alarm went off at 2am! We shuffled around in a semi-daze and shut down our house and drove out of our gate at 3:50am, exactly as planned.
We had already dropped off Mia (our beloved tabby cat) and Oliver (our adorable Australian kelpie doggie) at their respective holiday abodes the day before. We tried not to think of Mia’s forlorn meows in the car or Ollie’s pleading eyes as we drove out of the kennels. The guilt is very real. 😞
Our early morning drive to the airport was quick and uneventful, but the nocturnal wildlife was out in force. As well as the usual wallabies and possums we have to avoid whenever we drive in the dark, we also saw a wombat… which was quite unusual! We love wombats, and were so happy to see this wobbly bottomed fatso near our property. 😊
We were slightly ahead of schedule, and we pulled into the long-term carpark before they’d
even opened for the day. The customer service at this place is second to none, and the guy on opening duty drove us into Hobart Airport a few minutes afterwards.
We were flying with Qantas, and our first flight was a domestic one to Sydney, followed by an international one to Jakarta. Hobart Airport wasn’t that busy, so we were checked in and officially in holiday mode in no time! We took our routine ‘good luck’ selfie with Nathaniel (the bronze sculpture of a Tasmanian Devil) before settling at our gate with a hot chocolate.
Thankfully our 6:10am flight to Sydney wasn’t packed, but it was extremely cold onboard and not at all conducive to the hour-long nap I desperately wanted to have. A slice of banana bread with a hot cup of tea helped to thaw me out a little bit.
Our usual domestic flights from Hobart are on the Boeing 737-800s which have very quiet cabins, but this smaller Boeing 717 plane was exceptionally noisy! It almost felt like we were sitting in an old truck at times! Once I got used to the clanking and rattling noises, I napped for a little while, but
within minutes the captain announced that we were landing! We’d made good time, but we landed late due to being put in a holding pattern (which isn’t unusual for Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport).
Most of you would have heard me moan about Sydney Airport at some point. The domestic terminal is fine, but the transfer shuttle between the domestic and international terminals was as hideous as it’s always been. The queue for the shuttle bus snaked out of Gate 15 and through the terminal, blocking the walkway and cutting off access to the toilets. There were three staff running (or trying to run) the show, and it was a shambles.
They would call the urgent flights into a second queue, but then process them at the same time as the normal queue. We just missed the first bus and had to wait 15 minutes for the next one. We had a long transit time of 5 hours and 45 minutes, so we weren’t at all worried about rushing. However, it was a long enough wait for me to list a whole heap of inefficiencies that this transit gate desperately needed to address.
After finally being loaded onto
the hot bus, we then sat on the tarmac for about 10 minutes while waiting for three planes to land and be guided into their bays. Surely there has to be a better way to move between the two terminals?!? A small sign at the gate suggested that we could catch a train or taxi between the terminals too… but I assume this could be at our cost, and would also mean clearing security twice! Give me Melbourne Tullamarine Airport any day!
When we got to the international terminal, we made it through the immigration smart gates in a matter of minutes, but very unsurprisingly, I got selected for the ‘random’ security screening as per usual! Ah. It’s nice to know my brown face still stands out in a crowd. 😉
Our flight wasn’t on the departures board as yet, so we wandered through the Duty-Free shops and before Andrew knew it, I had settled in at a Hendricks Gin tasting booth for a tasting. They were spruiking their original gin as well as their new Amazon flavour. Nothing says ‘on holiday’ like two shots of gin at 9:30am! 😄
We found a relatively empty lounge near
a charging station, so we utilised the power points and started writing our travel notes. At some point we wandered around the nearby food court and picked up some snacks. The sushi rolls (teriyaki chicken and cooked tuna) from a pop-up stall in the middle of the court were surprisingly very fresh and extremely delicious – especially for airport food!
We were in a ‘Quiet Terminal’, and there was signage every 25m or so making it very clear that there would be no announcements. The signs clearly stated that passengers had to check the screens for flight updates; which obviously meant that gate changes weren’t announced. We spent the better part of an hour watching passengers on a flight to Sri Lanka casually walk to their original gate and then panic when they realised they had to sprint to the other side of the airport to get to their new gate. It was amusing at first, but as time passed, the passengers became more confused and then frantic when they turned up to an unstaffed gate and had no idea what to do. I desperately wanted to handwrite a note with the new gate number and stick it on
the counter!
We also came across a distraught woman who only spoke French and couldn’t communicate an issue with staff at a gate. The staff merely shrugged and kept serving other passengers! How can such a large international airport be so useless on so many levels??? Rant over. 😊
We eventually boarded our absolutely packed flight, and for the umpteenth time that day, we thanked our lucky stars at having checked into our flight so early in Hobart. Qantas had been charging $40AUD (per person, per sector) to select seats, and there was no way we were buying into this ridiculous money-making scheme! So, we trusted that the travel gods would be kind and give us the two-together seats in the 2-4-2 floor plan – and they did! It was perfect.
The flight on the Airbus 330-200 was very smooth. I loved the view of Sydney as we took off. I sometimes forget how beautiful Sydney is until I see it from the air. Soon afterwards, we rose above the clouds and we had a view that I find extremely calming… our plane’s wingtip sailing through crisp sky-blue sky and a blanket of fluffy white clouds cushioning
us below. It was also very comforting to know that the flight was going to be under eight-hours!
I’d chosen our travel destination last year (Greece), and we both agreed that this year we needed a break from long haul flights (and over 24-hour door-to-door travel times)! After tossing up a few options, Andrew’s final choice was Indonesia. It so happens that we will be celebrating his birthday at the end of the trip too. 😊
When I was doing my usual travel research on Indonesia, I came across their national motto
Bhinneka Tunggal Ika which translates as ‘Unity in Diversity’. It stems from the fact that Indonesia is a massive, sprawling and diverse country with people of different ethnicities, regional languages, religions and beliefs… and its numerous islands each have their own distinct dialects, cultural traditions and food.
Indonesia also has a national slogan – ‘Wonderful Indonesia’. Australia doesn’t have a national motto or slogan that I know of, but we have a few memorable tourism slogans that range from very cute to very questionable (google ‘Northern Territory tourism campaign 2016’ if you want to simultaneously chuckle and cringe!). I quite like Tasmania’s current slogan though
– Come Down For Air. But I digress…
The relatively young national Bahasa Indonesia language was specifically created to unify the country. It’s a Malay language that’s integrated elements of Dutch, Portuguese, Arabic, Sanskrit, English and Spanish, among others. The food is another crucial unifier. Even through cursory reading, it’s become abundantly clear how important food is to Indonesians. It underscores all traditional and religious festivities, and it’s an integral part of family gatherings and catching up with friends.
While looking up local proverbs for our blogs, I came upon this very amusing food-related proverb –
nasi telah menjadi bubur, which literally translates as ‘the rice has become porridge/congee’. It’s typically said when a situation is sadly beyond redemption. However, the proverb can be humorously improved with the saying
tambahkan saja dengan ayam (‘but you can add shredded chicken’)! Basically saying you can’t change things, but you can make the best of it. I really like this food analogy. 😊
This is Andrew’s first time in Indonesia, and even though I’ve been to Java and Bali, both visits were many years ago. I have some good but vague memories of spending Christmas in Jakarta with some of
my family members in December 1996 (Mum was working there at the time), but I have next to no memories of a party weekend in Bali some years later.
My memories of our time in Jakarta involve visiting Taman Mini – an entertainment park which had buildings replicating the traditional architecture from around Indonesia; shopping on Jalan Surabaya (a market street of antiques and bric-a-brac); and a colleague of Mum’s taking us on a day trip to Bogor (a hill country town that offered some respite from the intense heat of the city).
I’m so glad Andrew picked Indonesia as our trip this year… but telling people where we were heading has been an unexpected and interesting sociological experiment! When we said we were going to Indonesia or Java, we got normal reactions… but whenever we mentioned heading to Bali, the reactions were very swift – ‘Why BALI???’ 😲
Most Australians – and anyone else who’s been to Bali – would know that we have an unfortunate phenomenon called the ‘Bali Bogan’. A ‘bogan’ is someone typically loud, brash and crude. They are usually depicted in a singlet and shorts, and possibly with a ‘mullet’ haircut and
thongs (flip flops). Swigging from a bottle of beer is an optional extra. I suppose they are similar to a British chav, or American hillbilly or redneck; but the term is normally used in a more lovable than negative way in Australia.
For whatever reason (most likely due to budget airfares, sun, surf and cheap booze), bogans started frequenting Bali. Over the years Bali has become known as Bogan territory, and the term ‘Bali Bogan’ was born. And you only have to look at the recent news reports of public drunkenness, nakedness at sacred sites and assault, to understand why most Australians cringe whenever Bali Bogans are mentioned!
In reality, the Bali Bogans usually only hang around the southern Bali beachfronts, but the damage to the reputation of the entire island has been done. I have to admit that I have derided Bali in the past too, but I don’t think it’s fair to slight an entire island for the sake of three or four neighbourhoods frequented by Bali Bogans. Needless to say, we’ll be travelling well beyond the sun-drenched and alcohol-soaked resorts in Kuta, Seminyak, Legian and Canggu frequented (and sometime decimated) by the hordes that flock
there.
And as if this wasn’t bad enough, thanks to the films like Eat Pray Love, the once-serene inland town of Ubud is now said to be overrun by yoga studios and vegan cafes. This in itself isn’t as bad as what’s happening on the southern beaches… but it’s still a form of invasive tourism that’s shifting the cultural face of the town. I’ll report more on this after I’ve experienced it first-hand.
As usual, I like to learn a basic slew of local words before I visit another country, and I’ve been practising some Bahasa Indonesia words:
Yes – Ya
No – Tidak
Selamat pagi (pah-ghee) – Good morning
Selamat malam (ma-lahm) – Good evening
Silahkan (see-la-khan) – Please
Terima kasih (teri – ma – kasi) – Thank you
While Bahasa Indonesia is the national language, there’ll also be the Javanese and Balinese languages to learn when we get there. However, I’ve made a very interesting (and slightly shocking) discovery that both languages have three distinct levels – and the level you speak is determined by your status in society! I really struggle with class divides, so this really astonished me.
On a practical level,
this discovery was also very discouraging. I learn languages best by ear… but there will be no chance of me picking up even basic Javanese or Balinese if there are three versions of each being spoken around me! On the other hand, I can understand a smattering of Bahasa Malaysia, so hopefully my ears will pick up the very similar Bahasa Indonesia more quickly as a result. I read a very interesting article by an Indonesian author who described the challenges of writing in a ‘national’ language that in reality is spoken differently in every place (with a mix of local dialects). It’s also a language that’s evolving very rapidly.
Speaking of understanding the country, I am EXTREMELY excited about getting to know Indonesian food much, much better! My research has tantalised me with snippets of information. For example, the word
sambal (a generic word for a variety of chilli pastes) is borrowed from the Javanese word
sambel, which means ‘sauce’. Through trade, immigration and shared colonial masters,
sambals are now integral to the cuisines of Sri Lanka, India, Malaysia and Singapore. I’m very partial to a good
sambal, and I’m looking forward to trying all the regional versions.
I’ve also learned that a dish I’m even more partial to –
satay (
sate in Indonesian) – may have originated from Java. This fact is unsurprisingly hotly contested by a few of its neighbours. This skewered and grilled meat typically served with a peanut sauce is ubiquitous in most of Southeast Asia, and we’ve had outstanding
satay in Singapore and Thailand… but apparently Indonesia has at least 40 different versions that vary by protein, marinade, cooking method and sauce or sambal. I can’t wait to try as many flavours of Indonesian
sate as possible in its (maybe) homeland.
And then there’s all the delicious tropical Asian fruit. The timing of our trips to Asia don’t always align with the fruit seasons (hot summer months), but I’m hopeful that I’ll still be able to get my fill of mangos, mangosteens, guavas and rambutans. 😊
But anyway, back to our Qantas flight to Jakarta. Lunch was served not long after take-off, and we both opted for the fried rice with satay chicken. It was unexpectedly very good. Dessert was surprising in that it didn’t come with lunch - the cabin crew simply walked around with tubs of chocolate paddle
pops! I love paddle pops, but our increasing suspicion that Qantas is cutting costs is probably right. We kept wondering what the new Qantas CEO will bring to the company (and to our flying experience).
I wanted to stay awake during this flight… to adjust my body clock and hopefully be sleepy enough to slip straight into the new Jakarta time zone (three hours behind Hobart time). So, I watched seven of the 10 episodes of the first season of
Just Like That. I was a massive fan of the
Sex and The City series in the 1990s, but I was bitterly disappointed by the two films that were released later… so I had been putting off watching this reboot of the series. It wasn’t as bad as I had imagined, but it wasn’t anything brilliant either. The best thing I can say is that I was grateful the scripting was age appropriate for the now mid 50-year-old characters. I wished I’d been able to get through the whole series, but our landing in Jakarta prevented that.
It’s so nice to be on a MUCH shorter flight and travel day than when we flew to Greece last year.
It was only while writing this just now that I realised this is our second ‘archipelago’ in a row. We spent time in the Aegean archipelago last year, and here we are about to experience the Indonesian archipelago.
Off the top of my head, I don’t think I’ve visited very many island chains in my life… the number would definitely be under five. Having very much enjoyed our times on the Greek islands, I’m now looking forward to indulging in Indonesian island life.
Thank you for following our travel musings; see you in Jakarta!
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Jasmin Baker
non-member comment
Sad Mia and Oliver
Oh so sad to hear they didn't want you to leave. The negatives of our travel :( :(