25 June 2014

Week 91 - Ubud, Nusa Lembongan, Sanur, Kuta Lombok (Indonesia)

We left Amed after breakfast the following day to start the trip back to Ubud. I’d figured out a route that would avoid most of the main roads and take us through some of the more picturesque villages. We turned inland from the coast and wound our way over the mountains and through paddy fields via some extremely bendy roads. The local people were curious to see white people out of the tourist centres and waved and shouted as we passed. The road led us from Amlapura to Rendang, around the southern slopes of Gunung Agung then on through Muncan to Bangli. Although we decided against stopping at Pura Besakih (the biggest temple in Bali, where i’d had my xray the previous week), we stopped at Pura Kehen in Bangli, supposedly a miniature version of Pura Besakih. It was almost empty and after avoiding the scams to buy temple sashes that you get given for free, we wandered about, climbing the ornate stairway into the first courtyard and to the inner courtyard beyond, it really was quite beautiful.
Rhys at Pura Kehen, Bangli, Bali.
We reached a straighter road and sped up to cover the ground to Tampaksiring, where we intended to visit the ancient monuments at Gunung Kawi before stopping at some temples we’d missed because of my injured foot close to Ubud, in Bedulu and Pejeng. We passed some coffee plantations and saw signs for luwak coffee, (civet coffee) and having always wanted to try it we decided to pull over. As soon as we pulled into the carpark the back wheel kicked out, half of the spokes had sheered off but as we were already at the cafe we thought it would be a waste not to go in. We hadn’t realised it involved a quick tour of the process (the wild civets eat the red berries and the seeds come out in their poo and they collect it, rinse it and roast it) and then the girl sat with us while we sampled 8 different types of tea and coffee. If we weren’t worrying about getting the bike fixed we would have enjoyed it a lot more. The civet coffee was delicious but pretty expensive.

When we left the coffee shop we limped the bike owards Ubud and stopped at a bike garage (a little concrete hut at the side of the road) to get the wheel sorted. They tried to just replace the spokes (we think, they didn’t speak English) but struggled and disappeared with the wheel down the road. We sat on plastic chairs by the road for 2 hours before the wheel came back all shiny and new. The repair cost a whopping £7.50, we were so relieved. By then we decided we’d be better off just getting back to Ubud and skipped the temples (we’re coming back to Ubud in a couple of months to see everything we missed with my foot). 
Me studying the map while we wait for the bike to be fixed, Tampaksiring, Bali.
Back at the nice hotel in Ubud we dropped off our bags then took the bike back to town. We walked around the market for a bit then stopped at a restaurant overlooking the park where there was a local football game being played, for dinner. 

We had a shuttle bus booked for the next day to drop us at the port in Sanur where we took a ferry to Nusa Lembongan. The trip was painless and we arrived on the island before lunch. We checked in to our hotel and didn’t waste time jumping in the pool. I could easily have spent the afternoon just sitting there but Rhys was itching to explore the island. After walking the length of the main beach we headed back to the hotel to enjoy the pool until dinner. We had arranged to meet Grant (who we’d met in Bromo) for drinks and walked back to the beach, weaving between the seaweed piles drying in the sun, to a happy hour bar. We ended the night in another beach bar with live music.
Arriving at Nusa Lembongan, Bali.
The next day we had an early start to meet our boat driver for a morning snorkel trip. We joined two Cornish guys and headed out. Once the boat was through the reef that protects the bay, the waves started getting bigger and bigger. By the time we rounded the island to Manta Point where we hoped to snorkel with manta rays, the waves were so big it was a little scary, if you fell overboard or the boat capsized you’d have been swept and smashed against the rocks before you knew what was happening. Our captain made the call that the swell was too big for us to get in the water (not that we would’ve if he told us to go for it) and we continued around the island to Crystal Bay, a cove on Nusa Penida. The water was till pretty choppy but we jumped in. It was hard to fight the waves with only one flipper (of course I couldn’t fit the other one over my injured foot) but we saw some decent sized fish and colourful coral. It just wasn’t that enjoyable as you constantly had to check where you were and ensure you weren’t getting swept into the rocks. 

Back in the boat and we rounded the island into flatter water where we stopped at a glass bottom boat where they throw restaurant scraps overboard to attract shoals of large fish. It was cool to see but at the same time a little fake and zooish. Our next stop was at another area with a beautiful coral garden but the visibility was pretty bad so before long our captain called us back to the boat and took us to a reef near the mangroves close to the main beach of Lembongan. It was a drift snorkel and there was quite a current so after jumping in you went at such a speed that you couldn’t stop to admire anything for long, definitely snorkeling for lazy people. We must have drifted for nearly 800m before the boat picked us up and the sheer number of fish and the healthiness of the coral was breathtaking, our favourite snorkel spot for a long time. Despite the rocky start to the morning, by the time we made it back to shore we were all smiles. 
Enormous fish off Nusa Lembongan, Bali.
We were back at our hotel before lunch where we spent the rest of the day. Rhys retired to the room to watch TV and I camped out by the pool with a good book. That night we arranged to meet Grant again. After a few happy hour cocktails on the beach we walked to the main street where we found a sports bar. The Cornish guys from our boat ended up joining us and a couple of beers later I headed off leaving Rhys and Grant to watch the football. With the time difference, watching the World Cup is awkward with the first game not starting until midnight. 

The next day we had a ticket for the Perama boat to take us back to Sanur where we jumped in a taxi to take us to our hotel in the south of the town. We had a few chores to run and rented a bike to get out to the bypass to pick up our passports, new visa in place (renting a bike is far cheaper than using taxis). Back at the hotel Rhys headed to the room to chill and catch up on sleep and I wandered down to the beach. I found a little cafe on the sand for a drink and sat watching the world go by. The beach was ok but pretty busy and with a fair amount of building work going on. Back at the room I checked in on Rhys before heading out again to a disappointing ‘Art Market’ near our hotel which was just full of souvenir shops and lots of bothersome people.

We still had a couple of hours until Karen was due to land so we took the bike into the centre of Sanur. We had posh ice cream and wandered around the shops, finding an amazing bakery with homemade bread. Dinner was the last of the marmite on the bread in our room. Karen arrived at around 11pm, having found the hotel this time with no problems. After a quick hello she dumped her bag in her room and whipped out a bottle of duty free vodka which we spent the next three hours polishing off. We haven’t seen Karen since she joined us in Thailand in November so there was plenty of catching up to be done.

Just in case Karen hadn’t got her airport fix with her flight from the UK via Singapore, i’d booked us another flight for the following day. With the price of boats and transfers it just seemed to make sense. Rather than spending 10 hours using the public boat to Lombok we paid about £5 more each and flew, arriving in Kuta in time for lunch, even with an hour delay to the flight.

After a short taxi ride passed a wedding procession with traditional musicians, we checked in to our homestay then wandered down to Kuta beach. We instantly preferred it to anywhere we’d been in Bali. The town beach is a golden arch of spherical, granular sand punctuated by rugged, windswept hills that rise like pyramids all along the coast. The town itself is pretty small, based around two potholed streets parallel to the ocean and one that runs perpendicular, each with a scattering of hotels, restaurants and market stalls, intermingled with local houses and corner stores, it has a real rustic charm. The most annoying part is the hordes of kids trying to sell you bracelets and the women selling sarongs. We didn’t stay at the beach long since it was a weekend and was pretty packed and took a slow walk back to ours, stopping for a beer on route. We stopped by the hotel for showers and insect repellent then it was back out for pre-dinner arak cocktails and pizza.

We enjoyed a lay in the following day, me and Rhys catching the last order for breakfast just before 10am. We rented two scooters for the next two days then, leaving Karen in bed to get over her jet lag, headed out East to explore the coast with one of the bikes. Our intention was to find the best beach to return to with Karen that afternoon. Our first stop was at Pantai Segar, a beach outside the Novotel. It was a pretty cove with some great surf and finer sand than at the town beach. Back on the bike we stopped at the next cove, Batu Kotak. We paid the 25p entrance before noticing the next bay over looked even nicer. We didn’t even get off the bike but turned around to try to find out how to get to the bay. We ended up in a sandy river basin, off the road, following other bike tracks. We took a couple of wrong turns but eventually found a way onto back up to the track where we could access the beach. It was a bit more windswept but had some beautiful hills with views over the two bays each side,a perfect spot for a picnic. 
Pantai Segar, Kuta, Lombok.
Batu Kotak, Kuta, Lombok.
Batu Kotak, Kuta, Lombok.
Further along the coast we came across Tanjung Aan. One of the most popular beaches in the area. We parked up and wandered onto the white sand, noticing a golden bay at the far end of the beach that looked almost deserted. We followed the road around to the fishing village of Gerupak before deciding it was time to turn back to Kuta to collect Karen. We had one last try to reach the deserted golden sand beach and once there, found a little rustic cafe on the sand with sun loungers that was perfect. 
Trying to find the yellow sand beach, Kuta, Lombok.
Kids playing on the beach at Gerupak, Kuta, Lombok.
Just as we pulled in to Kuta, the electrics on the scooter died, Rhys managed to get us within a 100m of our homestay before it refused to go any further. Luckily the owner had seen us and as soon as we walked in to the hotel he gave us the keys to another, better bike. By then, Karen was awake and we picked up the second scooter and headed off, with Karen on the back of Rhys’s bike and me venturing out for the first time (other than real short straight rides) by myself. It was brilliant, I could be very tempted to buy scooter when we get home. We went to the quiet cafe we’d found earlier at the end of Tanjung Aan beach and settled on the sun loungers for a couple of hours. Back in Kuta we went for happy hour cocktails again before dinner.
View from our sun loungers on Tanjung Aan, Kuta, Lombok.
Karen was awake stupidly early, unable to sleep through the call to prayer blaring from the nearby mosque. She’d already been for breakfast by the time we got up and was ready to go, albeit tired when we finished. We took both bikes out again, this time heading West instead of East. We followed the same plan, to bunny hop along the coast and find the best spot to return to that afternoon. The road was beautiful, winding up through the windswept hills with rice paddies in the saddles, swerving the potholes and the occasional herd of oxen. We turned off just past Astari at Mawan where we found a beautiful horseshoe beach hemmed in by hills and with huge waves crashing to shore. Next, we followed a sign to Mawi. The track leading to the beach was in terrible condition and was pretty testing for me being new to the whole scooter riding thing (I have no idea how Rhys manages to ride with someone on the back, I took Karen 100m and wobbled all over the road). The beach wasn’t as good but the surf was epic, most definitely not for beginners. Even if the beach had been amazing I don’t think any of us wanted to ride the track back to return later.

Back on the bikes we made our way back to the main road and continued to Selong Blanak. It was a very pretty beach with powder white sand. We walked to a quiet end of the sand and spread out our sarongs. Rhys went for a quick swim before walking to the end of the beach leaving me and Karen to enjoy the sun and watch the world go by. After an hour or so we decided to move on and went back to the bikes to ride the road towards Blongas, which according to Lonely Planet, was spectacular. We rode for a couple of kilometres, asked a guy for directions and decided to turn back, it’s all pretty spectacular along that stretch of coast so we didn’t feel like we’d miss out too much turning back. We pulled back into Mawan Beach, the closest to Kuta and found a spot where we set up camp for another hour or so. Rhys walked around the bay and had a sign language conversation with a fisherman. Around 4pm we packed up and started the trip back to town, a chilly wind was picking up and although it had been overcast for most of the day, we’d still caught the sun.
Fisherman on the rocks at Mawan Beach, Kuta, Lombok.
Rhys and Karen enjoying the beach at Mawan, Kuta, Lombok.
On the ride home we pulled in to a restaurant with views over Kuta where we stopped for a quick but expensive drink to take in the scenery. We made it back to the homestay before sunset and spent a couple of hours chilling before delicious dinner in a hippy restaurant nearby where Karen made friends with the owners kid.

18 June 2014

Week 90 - Ubud, Jimbaran, Candidasa, Amed (Indonesia (Bali))

After a delicious breakfast at our hotel in Ubud it was time to head into town to get our chores out of the way. The walk took us through the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, a beautiful wooded park hiding three temples and inhabited by hundreds of Macaques. We bought some bananas to feed them and straight away a big alpha male started chasing Rhys and he gave him the whole bunch to get rid of him. Although cute, when a monkey comes at you bearing his teeth it’s a bit scary. We let a few of the little ones climb onto our laps and sit on our shoulders before continuing to town. Ubud is a really pretty place, inland in central Bali, surrounded by rice paddies and full to bursting of shrines and temples. The main streets are lined with restaurants and hotels and little boutique shops and souvenir stalls - it’s a shopaholics dream and although it is extremely touristy we found it to be really appealing. 
Rhys with his new monkey friend in the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, Ubud.
We dropped our passports in with an agent to extend our visas (yes, we could have done it ourselves but it would involve three visits to the immigration office in Denpasar and a lot of faffing that we’d rather pay to avoid), rented a motorbike for the next 9 days (at a bargain price of £1.80 a day), and dropped our laundry in to the cheapest place in town.

At lunchtime we wandered back to the hotel to relax by the pool and enjoy our lovely room for a couple of hours, waiting for the heat of the day to pass. We had arranged to meet Mario for dinner in town and walked in, through the monkey forest, a couple of hours early to browse the shops and markets, marveling at all the knickknacks, furniture and fabrics we could waste our money on. We met Mario in the Oops bar where we had some super strength mojitos before finding a little European wine bar for dinner and cheap carafes of wine (wine is a real treat!). On the walk home I managed to trip over my own feet walking down a dark path by the monkey forest. Rhys had to pretty much carry me home and clean off my grazes before bed.

The next day I woke to a foot twice it’s normal size and unable to put any weight on it. At breakfast Rhys called over the hotel manager to ask him to arrange a taxi to the hospital. The manager was keen to suggest we went to see the Balinese healer rather than go to hospital, the same advice you’ll get from any Balinese person, it seems the hospital is a bit drastic and they’re scared any aliment will lead to surgery. The healer didn’t open until the afternoon so we had a couple of hours of chill time before hopping to the car where the hotel owner drove us over an hour to the Besakih Temple, the Mother Temple, the biggest and most important temple in Bali, located at the foot of Gunung Agung where the speacilist bone healer practiced.

Once we arrived we entered one of the smaller temples and took a seat on the temple stairs waiting to be seen. While we waited, the hotel owner took Rhys to make an offering, with a little basket of flowers and a small cash token, Rhys knelt, prayed for my foot and took part in a ceremony involving water and rice. Of course we’d seen Canang Sari, the small daily offerings made all over Bali every day but this felt more intimate, we weren’t there to see it as tourists but to take part, it was very beautiful and I wish I knew more about it. (For instance I know that different coloured flowers are for different gods but thats about the extent of my understanding). In Bali, Hinduism permeates every aspect of life, incorporating local animism and ancestor worship. The fundamental principle is that there is order in the cosmos and balance and harmony needs to be maintained in order to be free of the never ending cycle of reincarnation. There is one supreme god and then other deities that look after everything from rice to the mountains.

Before too long I was called into a little side room where I sat on a table and they x-rayed my foot before we took our seat on the stairs again to wait to speak to the healer. He had a look at my x-ray, realised nothing was broken but that a bone had moved, readjusted it and with a laugh, sent me on my way. With the hotel owner as translator we got the aftercare advice of soaking it in hot water and rubbing sandalwood into it and grateful that nothing was broken, hopped back to the car for the return drive. Back in Ubud, Rhys had to run a few errands (since I was immobile), we ate at the hotel restaurant and headed to bed.

The next day the swelling had gone down slightly and I could limp for short distances. We packed our bags and put our backpacks in storage. We had decided to take the bike out for a couple of days to explore the island. Our first stop was Jimbaran. Our original plan was to stop at a couple of temples on the way, drop off our daybags at a hotel, then head back north to see the beaches that line that stretch of coast. We wanted to see what all the fuss was about with Kuta and Seminyak, the roads however, were crazy busy and not particularly pleasant to drive around on (apart from the new toll road over the water with a whole separate bridge for motorbikes). Along with my inability to walk anywhere we figured going up to Kuta was a bad idea and instead rode to the beach in Jimbaran. 

Rhys left me in the car park while he tracked down a seafood restaurant with seats on the sand and we stationed ourselves there for the afternoon. The beach is a thick swath of golden sand bordered to the north by the airport runway and is famous for its seafood eateries at sunset - we beat the crowds and had our stretch of beach pretty much to ourselves by going at lunchtime. As they wouldn’t let us order small portions we ended up having a massive seafood feast after which Rhys explored and swam while I sat on the sun lounger watching the world go by. 

My foot was a bit better again the next day and we decided to take the bike and explore the surfers paradise which is the Bukit Peninsula. Our first stop was at Balangan Beach where Rhys went ahead and found somewhere for breakfast with views of the surf, close to the path. Walking on soft sand was beyond me so we were a bit limited in where we could go. Breakfast turned out to be delicious and we toyed with the idea of taking a sun lounger and staying at Balangan for the rest of the day. Not wanting to miss out on seeing some of the beaches further along the coast though we went back to the bike and continued. 
Balangan Beach, Bukit Peninsula.
Our next planned stop was at Bingin, like Balangan, supposed to be a good surf beach with decent sand. We found the turnoff only to discover the road ended at a car park and you had to walk the remainder of the way, not an option for me. We continued further, to Padang-Padang, a world class surf break where international competitions are often held. There was only a small beach in a cove, crowded with umbrellas and beach towels but the closest we could get was to peer at it from the cliff top road bridge, again, my foot meant we couldn’t get down to the sand. 

Our next stop of the day was at Uluwatu Temple, one of the security guards lent me a stick to help me limp around and once inside the temple walls Rhys propped me up in a corner to fend off monkeys while he walked around. I don’t think I missed out. Although the temple is located in a great spot on top of a cliff, the buildings themselves are hardly mindblowing.

Starting to think the day was going to be a bit of a write off, we rounded the corner and arrived at Pantai Suluban, one of the prettiest areas of the Uluwatu coast. We parked up and hobbled to the cliff top where there were dozens of cafes, bars and souvenir shops built into the cliff face with stairs winding up and down Escher like. We found a table at a cheap bar and stopped for lunch. Although we didn’t make it down to the beach we spent a pleasant hour or so watching the surfers and marveling at the waves crashing in to shore, we’d never seen anything like it, it certainly wasn’t for beginners.
View from the cafe of the surf at Pantai Suluban, Bukit Peninsula.
Leaving Suluban we headed off to find a beach that I could actually get to. Then the van in front of us stopped abruptly right on the brow of a steep hill. A wheelie and a broken tail light later and Rhys rodeoed the bike into the grass verge. That made us decide to call it a day and we rode back to Jimbaran in search of a bike garage. Luckily, there was one about 20m from our hotel and within no time they’d tracked down and replaced the parts. We ended up eating at a local cafe across the main road from our hotel and I honestly think it was some of the best, and cheapest food we’ve had in Indonesia.

My foot had improved a little again by the next day and we set off again on the bike, this time destined for Candidasa in East Bali. Although still a busy road, leaving the Kuta/Sanur area behind was a relief and the traffic thinned. The road was straight and pretty boring and we pulled over at a couple of disappointing beaches on route. The Lonely Planet suggests there are some real beach gems in this area, like Lebih and Klotok, but the tide was in and the bits we could see where pretty unappealing. The whole ‘Bali as a paradise’ image that we’ve grown up with was starting to fall apart, it’s not particularly tropical, the beaches aren’t great and there’s a lot of litter and traffic congestion, the surf is amazing but we don’t know how to surf and they’re not beginner waves.

About 10km before arriving in Candidasa we stopped by Padangbai, a supposed backpacker town with decent beach that we had heard good things about. We didn’t even bother stopping, we rode through and didn’t think it looked that appealing. One stop on route to Candidasa that was worth while was at the Goa Lawah Temple, one of Bali’s nine directional temples, serving as a guardian against the dark spirits from the ocean. There was a ceremony going on at the time so although we couldn’t get into the temple to visit the bat caves behind, it was really interesting to see the locals all dressed up walking in to the complex with offerings balanced on their heads accompanied by the sounds of traditional musicians.

Candidasa itself is a resort town with a non-existent stretch of beach. With the building boom in the 1970’s the reef was destroyed to make cement leaving the waves to crash in to the shore shifting all the sand. Since then, artificial reefs have been built and small sandbars are starting to return. Our hotel was lovely with an infinity pool overlooking the water and we were happy to spend a couple of hours there relaxing. That evening we walked north to the lagoon, a huge pond filled with lily pads where we stopped for a drink while the sun set.
Me enjoying the pool a tour hotel in Candidasa.
Lily pond in the centre of Candidasa.
We moved on again the next day, heading for Amed, a 10km windswept strip of coast in East Bali consisting of seven little villages and coves. It’s one of the poorer areas of Bali and one of the newest must see places to visit. On the way we stopped off at Pantai Pasir Putih, a nice little beach just outside of Candidasa with semi-white sand where Rhys parked me on a sun lounger and wandered off for an explore and a swim. Leaving the beach, we took a wrong turn and ended up taking an inland route, stopping to admire at the rice paddies and the mountains, enjoying finally being away from the crowds. Once in Amed we checked in to our hotel, actually not in Amed village itself but a short distance along the coast in Bunutan. Again, we’d prebooked a lovely place with a beautiful pool area and views out across the ocean and we didn’t waste any time going for a swim. 
Me lounging on the beach at Pantai Pasir Putih, near Candidasa.
View of the mountains and rice paddies on route to Amed.
As it was still quite early in the day we decided to climb back on the bike to explore the coast a bit. We only went as far as Aas, a village at the southern end of the Amed, where we’d read about decent snorkeling. We had to ask some locals how to get to the beach and after walking along a litter strewn path, were a bit disappointed to find it was pebble and every inch was covered with fishing boats leaving no where to sit. The whole coast of Bali seems to be fenced off by resorts and actually getting access to the sea, especially at the nicer stretches of coast, can be difficult. We didn’t fancy sticking around and walked back to the bike. A couple of villages over in Lipah, we could see a nicer stretch of beach and noticed a path offering access by the side of a hotel. We set up camp by one of the boats and Rhys went for a brief snorkel. The surf was quite fierce so with my foot, I wasn’t able to join him.
View of Amed Village.
We’d spotted a sunset bar a few hundred metres from our hotel perched up on the hillside and pulled in for a drink. It was a lovely place with happy hour cocktails, beanbags and views over one of the bays and out to sea. We stayed until nightfall when we headed back to our hotel for dinner.
Rhys enjoying a cocktail at the Sunset Bar, Amed.
We had another night in Amed and spent the following day exploring the area. First, we headed north to Tulamben where the wreck of the US cargo ship, the Liberty, torpedoed by the Japanese in 1942, towed to shore and then broken up by a volcano eruption, can be snorkeled just off shore. Again, the waves were hammering into the shore and the beach was made of big black volcanic rocks so it was extremely difficult to get in and out of the water even for people with use of both feet. Rhys waded in while I waited on shore with the hundreds of divers who were preparing or debriefing from their dives. It was the first decent wreck snorkel we’ve come across and Rhys seemed to really enjoy it, seeing a variety of big colourful fish and coral growing up around the boat, before being slammed into the rocks when he tried to get back out of the sea. 

Back on the bike we followed the winding inland road we’d taken the previous day, through the rice paddies to Tirta Gangga, a water palace built in the late 1940's by Gusti Gede Djelantik, heir to the former Kingdom of Karangasem. It was a lovely place full of fountains, stone statues and water mazes and well worth the stop despite the hordes of tourists. We paid a little extra to swim in one of the pools and had it to ourselves, a peaceful little haven fenced off from the rest of the complex. Rhys made friends with a praying mantis, which some mean lady flicked, and we continued along the road south before happening upon another water garden, Taman Ujung, built in 1901, by the predecessor of the King who constructed Tirta Gangga.. We were the only westerners at this one and although it wasn’t quite as pretty as the first complex, being far bigger and more modern, it was still peaceful and a pleasant stop. 
Statues at Tirta Gangga Water Palace, near Amed.
Continuing on our route we turned off onto the coast road that we’d intended to take up to Amed the previous day. The road was incredibly winding, following the mountains and passing through local villages, we felt like we’d actually found a corner of the real Bali, not the one put on for tourists. It was a challenging ride but one of our favourites with views out to sea and down into the coves, the beaches of each filled to bursting with traditional outrigger boats. We stopped for lunch at another little restaurant built into the cliff before returning to the hotel. I sat by the pool while Rhys chilled watching TV before we wandered back to the Sunset Bar we’d been to the previous night for dinner and drinks. All up, we enjoyed Amed, the beaches aren’t great and i’m sure we would have got more out of it on a snorkel trip as the sea is supposed to be teeming with life, but it was pretty, albeit dry and windswept, reminiscent of the Mediterranean, I felt like we could have been in Greece.
Rhys making the most of the hotel pool in Amed.

11 June 2014

Week 89 - Yogyakarta, Gunung Bromo, Ijen, Ubud (Indonesia)

We woke the next day and checked out of our hotel having packed overnight bags to take with us to Borobudur. We started the day with a becak ride to the Kraton, the palace. We paid our entrance fee and wandered in, we still don’t really know where we were but it wasn’t the Kraton and there was nothing to see apart from some mannequins in traditional costume. Confused we wandered back out and walked around the corner where we found another entrance. We paid again and emerged into the Kraton. It wasn’t what we were expecting, kind of a huge walled courtyard with little buildings scattered around and marble areas that we couldn’t walk on, the Sultan still lives there so you can only go in some of the outer areas and there’s not really all that much to see. There were some interesting little rooms with beautiful batik and other displays but it was extremely hot and we really weren’t feeling it. 

Thinking we’d explore the alleyways around the palace and grab some lunch before heading to Borobudur we were a bit disappointed when we found ourselves in a residential area with no where to even buy a drink. Finally we found a becak and asked him to take us to the bus terminal. He dropped us off at a busy cross road. Stupidly we paid him and followed in the the direction he had pointed. We ended up hanging around at the corner trying to work out what to do when a little man came and shooed us over to his shop and offered us stools. He seemed to take it on himself to flag down buses for people so we told him where we were headed and took a seat. 45 minutes later and we were still there. A guy who spoke English appeared and recommended we got the next bus to Muntilan where we could change and get a bus to Borobudur. Finally on a bus we were headed in the right direction. 4km and nearly an hour later we were in Jombor, a little village to the north of Yogyakarta. We stopped to pick up more people for an age and the temperature inside the bus was reaching inferno levels. We were at breaking point and decided enough was enough. We clambered off the bus, paid for the journey to Jombor and got a cab back to Sosrowijayan in Yogya. 

Back in town we thought we’d treat ourselves to a nice hotel to cheer us up and began the rounds looking for a room. We wanted a pool and wifi but failed miserably, everywhere was either fully booked or extortionate. We ended up at a little homestay on Gang 1. We turned up the aircon, put the TV on and destressed. For dinner we wandered across the alley way to Supermans, a stupid name but good internet, nice staff and great food. We had steak to make up for the disappointing day.

We had to check out of the homestay the following day as we’d reserved and paid for a room elsewhere. We dumped our bags and went back to Supermans for a relaxed breakfast. We headed back to the hotel and tried to chill in our room only to realise there were building works going on that were so loud you couldn’t think straight. Having already had enough of Java we complained and asked for a refund. After showing us a dirty room at another homestay they owned, we finally got our cash back and went back to the Sari Homestay where we’d spent the previous night. 

That afternoon we’d booked transport through a tour agency to Borobudur and realised how stupid we were not doing it that way in the first place. The transport is so cheap, we paid just over £4 each for a private car for the return trip (it cost us nearly that much on public transport to get to Jombor the previous day). The drive was eventful with our driver getting increasingly fidgety for the last 10km and driving pretty erratically, we were happy to get out and get into the temple complex. 

After a complimentary cup of tea in the foreigners entrance, we donned our obligatory sarongs and wandered in. Borobudur is one of the most important Buddhist sites in the world and is considered one of the finest temple complexes in South East Asia, up there with Ankor Wat and Bagan. Constructed in the early 9th century, the temple complex consists of a single, solid building with six square layers topped by three circular layers each covered in lattice stupas. The whole building is covered in narrative relief panels and every niche and stupa contains a buddha statue (there are 504 in total, although most are missing their heads, stolen since the temples rediscovery mostly by Western museums). It wasn’t crazy busy and we wandered around only disturbed a couple of times by people asking for photos. The scale of Borobudur is impressive but we didn’t find it as aesthetically pleasing as Prambanan which is more delicate and intricate.
Rhys at Borobudur, Yogyakarta.
Borobudur, Yogyakarta.
We headed out of the complex, weaving and dodging the hundreds of souvenir sellers before finding that our driver wasn’t in the car park where we’d left him. We finally found him asleep parked up around the corner and jumped in for the journey back to Yogya. 

The next day Rhys woke up feeling unwell so we spent the morning holed up in our room watching TV. After a late breakfast at Supermans, Rhys headed back to the room and I wandered along Jalan Malioboro looking for fabrics and batik. 

A little later we decided to venture across town to the Bird Market. It was a long journey in a becak but it gave us a chance to see a bit more of the city. We cycled around the Kraton and saw all the little shops and cafes we’d managed to miss previously. The bird market itself, in the south of the city on the ring road, was well worth the trip. It wasn’t particularly upsetting, sure some of the cages were small or crammed in but Indonesian people really do love their birds and do take care of them. We wandered around in awe of the brightly coloured birds spotting the odd bat, puppy, ginormous cat and mongoose as we went. We stayed for an hour or so before jumping in a becak back to our homestay.
Rhys at the bird market, Yogyakarta.
I’d seen some nice fabrics earlier in the day and decided to try my luck in the Pasar Beringharjo, a market near our hostel. It was getting late and when I arrived the market was starting to close, I couldn’t bare the thought of coming away empty handed so I rushed around and found a nice lady who sold me some lovely material for a bargain price. Back on Jalan Malioboro I stopped by another fabric shop and ended up buying a second length of fabric before walking back to the homestay. That night, to cheer Rhys up we ate at Pizza Hut in the mall.

We’d agreed to abandon any attempt to use public transport in Java and arranged a tourist shuttle bus to take us to Bromo the following day. The journey was long and the 8 hours they’d told us it would take turned in to 14 hours. Everything they tell you in Java seems to be a lie. Atleast we were on an aircon, comfortable mini bus (only having to swap buses once in Probolinggo for the last hour) and had our accommodation booked already. We arrived into Cemoro Lawang at 10:30pm and went straight to bed with the alarm set for 2:45am. The room at Cafe Lava was basic but comfortable and we woke up not feeling too bad despite the lack of sleep.

We’d met a lovely Portuguese guy, Mario, on our bus the previous day and arranged to meet him at our hostel to walk to a viewpoint for sunrise. The walk was supposed to take 2 hours and as we started, we realised we didn’t really know where we were going. It seemed sensible to follow the stream of jeeps and motorbikes and we headed out into the dark to walk across the volcanic ash desert, known as the ‘Sea of Sand’, that covers the floor of the caldera. Once across the sea we found a concrete road that led up to the viewpoint, from there it took just over an hour of walking uphill, along a road lined with jeeps belching exhaust fumes in our faces, to reach Gunung Penanjakan where we grabbed a coffee and joined the crowds on a hill for sunrise. The view was incredible. As the sun emerged the clouds dropped down into the caldera, floating like a carpet and wrapping around Gunung Bromo with Gunung Semeru smoking away in the distance. It was absolutely beautiful. We stayed for about an hour chatting to some other people from our bus the previous day before walking back down to the sea. I think we were the only people who chose to walk, everyone else was on a jeep tour.
View of Bromo at sunrise from Gunung Penanjakan.
Walking across the Sea of Sand in the daylight was a completely different experience to walking in the dark, the sides of the caldera rear up in all directions with the volcanoes rising from the centre. We reached the bottom of Bromo and took the stairs to the crater rim. After battling our way through the crowds who were all huddled at the top of the stairs where there is a safety barrier, we walked along to complete a circuit of the crater. We were the only people walking around the crater and after the initial 50m which was a bit precarious we found ourselves on a decent track and took our time with plenty of stops along the way to soak up the view. At this point Mario accepted he wasn’t going to make it to Ijen that day.
The smoking crater of Bromo
Back at the hostel, after being out walking for 8 hours, we were covered in ash and in desperate need of a hot shower. We met Mario for a quick lunch before turning in for a well earned afternoon nap. We met Mario again for dinner (having foolishly thought we might go and see sunset, evenings in Bromo are way way to cloudy) and were joined by an English girl, Lucy. We whiled away the evening playing cards and headed to bed at 9pm.

The alarm was set for 4:35am, and other than an abrupt wake up at 3:50am with someone knocking on our door trying to find Lucy, we slept well. When the alarm went off we climbed out of bed, dressed and met Mario for another sunrise viewing. This time we walked to the back of one of the hotels where we found some benches with a view over the whole caldera. We watched sunrise, took another thousand photos and went in search of coffee. Nowhere seemed to open until 7am so we went back to our room to pack before meeting up in our hostel cafe for breakfast. 
Sunrise view of Bromo from Cemoro Lawang.
At 9am a mini bus turned up to take us back to Probolinggo, the first stage of our journey to Ijen. Again, we’d prebooked our transport to avoid the horrendous public buses. Once in Probolinggo we were dropped at a tour office where we had to wait 2 hours, in the stinking heat, for a van to take us to Sempol where we would be spending the night. We were the last to be picked up and had to share the tiny front seats next to the driver. After an hour and a half we pulled over and had to wait another hour for a lunch stop before finally rolling into Sempol at 6:30pm. We had a trip booked the following day and had to be up, packed and ready to leave the hotel at 1:30am. Already tired from the two pre-sunrise starts the previous days we headed straight to bed.

At 1:30am we were up and ready to go, there were 5 people from our bus who had chosen to do the ‘Blue Fire’ tour. 25 minutes later and we were still waiting for two French girls to get themselves out of bed and into the van. Finally they climbed in and we drove off for the 30 minute trip to the park entrance. We parked up, met our guide and immediately started the climb. It took a little over an hour to cover the 3km to the summit and we bumped in to Mario who was on a different bus on the way. We left the guide and the slow French girls and walked over the rim and down into the crater with another guide, following the sulphur collectors going about their business. 

The blue fire was mesmorising and well worth the early start, we may not have seen lava in a volcano as yet but seeing huge blue flames flickering out of cracks in the earth was pretty amazing. As soon as we neared the flames the wind changed and blew a cloud of sulphur over us obscuring our view and making breathing difficult. Our eyes were watering and our throats burning, ours was the only group int he crater without gas masks. We turned and made our way back to a safe distance, a bit freaked out. When more people and more guides arrived I left Rhys watching the flames from a distance and headed back into the crater to try to get closer again. I got within about 10m of the flames and stood there just marveling at how beautiful it was. 
Blue fire at Ijen crater.
Eventually our guide came and found me and we walked back out of the crater to watch the sunrise from the crater rim. You couldn’t help but be impressed as the sun crept over the mountains and spread slowly down the sides of the crater to light up the bright turquoise waters of the crater lake. Once the sun was up it was easier to watch the sulphur collectors and appreciate how hard a job they have, each walking into the crater twice a day and lugging out up to 90kg of sulphur in each journey, for which they are paid 800 rupiah per kilo, about 4p. It was only in the daylight that we could seen the signs telling us that it was forbidden for tourists to walk down into the crater, a bit bizarre considering its a pretty standard tour option.
Me at Ijen crater.
View of Ijen crater lake.
Rhys and one of the sulphur collectors, Ijen.
By 8am we had negotiated our way back down the slippery track and were at the van ready for the short 1.30 hour drive to Ketapang. We had another bus change before boarding the ferry to cross into Bali where we continued for another 3 hours to Mengwi. A short taxi ride later and we were at our hotel in Ubud. Initial impressions of Bali were good, traffic was lighter than Java, the bus arrived when it was supposed to and the hundreds of shrines and temples lining the roads were beautiful. Our hotel splurge was even better than we had anticipated, the room was huge and the bathroom with a whirl pool bath was amazing. We were too tired to really take it in and after dinner at the hotel restaurant we retired to our room for a bath and an early night to catch up on sleep.

4 June 2014

Week 88 - Jakarta, Tasikmalaya, Pangandaran, Yogyakarta (Indonesia)

We left our hostel in Kota Kinabalu and walked the short distance to the airport shuttle bus stop. Within no time, and while watching some interesting introduction to Sabah videos, we arrived at the airport. The flight left on time and we landed at KLIA2, the terminal we’d had so much fun trying to find when we flew to Borneo 4 weeks earlier. Luckily, more of the terminal had been opened since our last visit. We had a couple of hours to kill before we were able to check in for our onward flight to Jakarta and propped ourselves up in MacDonalds to make use of the free wifi. 


Once through to the international departure lounge we had a whole new adventure trying to find some seats. They’ve tried to be quirky and put in areas like a ‘Sports Lounge’ and a ‘Film Lounge’ but in practice these corners of comfy seats are just full of people lazing around with their feet up using three chairs each. Again, the flight left on time and we arrived in Jakarta a few minutes before 8pm.

As it was late and Jakarta is notoriously busy and untraveler friendly, we decided to treat ourselves to a coupon taxi. Intending to get out of Jakarta first thing in the morning we’d prebooked a hotel in the south of the city (the airport being in the far north), close to the main bus terminal. At that time of night the traffic wasn’t too bad and we arrived at our hotel feeling pretty worn out from the long day. The Zodiak Hotel was perfect for a stop over, very modern and clean with friendly staff and a very comfortable bed. 

From the hotel we only had to cross the road to jump on a TransJakarta bus 20 minutes south to the main bus terminal. Our aim was to find a bus bound for Pangandaran which the internet had suggested went ‘frequently’. The first problem we encountered was finding the actual bus station and we’re still unsure whether we were at the right place. We got off at the right TransJakarta stop but there was nothing there, just a layby, a dead end and a lane of shacks selling crisps and soft drinks. We asked a couple of people where we could get the bus but our lack of language skills didn’t get us very far. We were told to wait where we were (we think) by one of the shacks where the buys would pass and pick us up. We were offered seats saying it was a long wait. Then we were told the next bus was at 4pm. A little unsure whether we were getting the gist of what was being said we made the decision to get on the first bus that came that would take us in the right direction. We got on a bus to Tasikmalaya. 

We expected the journey to take about 8 hours giving us just enough time to get another 3 hour bus to the coast that evening. The journey took 10 hours and was incredibly frustrating (although an absolute bargain for 45,000IDR, for about £2.30). Rhys worked out we’d gone a grand total of 268km, averaging 17mph. Traffic was horrendous and it was only a Thursday, I dread to think what weekends are like. We’d heard Jakarta was badly congested and thought we would have missed the worst by getting out of the city the night before. 

Despite the traffic, the journey was incredibly picturesque. After exiting the tollway at Bogor we headed up and over the Puncak Pass, a highland area of hills carpeted with tea plantations and views over to the smoking cone of Gunung Gede. Originally we’d thought of spending a night or two there, but after seeing the sheer amount of people were glad we skipped it. Once over the pass we thought the traffic would clear and cheered up as we meandered though the main street of a little town lined with shops selling pot plants. Again, we were wrong. The traffic was relentless pretty much the whole journey and we whiled away the time staring out the window at the rice paddies and rice terraces (rivaling those in the Philippines but lacking the tourist infrastructure), and watching the kids playing with homemade kites. We finally arrived in Tasikmalaya at 8pm and figured it was too late to continue. We found two men with motorbikes at the bus terminal and asked them to take us to a hotel. We ended up at a decent, albeit expensive place with slippers in the room and a swimming pool that we didn’t get a chance to use. 

We woke to the alarm the next morning and waited outside the hotel for a bus to Pangandaran. We didn’t have to hang around too long before one arrived and we rattled off for the final 3 hours of the journey (which took 3.5 hours of course). The bus dropped us at a big roundabout and the conductor pointed in the direction of the pantai (beach). We collected our bags and headed off, in the searing mid day heat for the 1km walk to our guesthouse. Luckily, the place we’d booked into was run by the kindest lady and she let us stay even though we’d arrived a night late. Highly recommend the Mango Guesthouse, the room was spacious and clean and the staff were exceptional. The lady brought us a cup of tea and we thought our luck had changed. 

We spent the afternoon wandering along the beach to get our bearings. The northern end of the beach is really the ‘foreigner’ end. There are a couple of nice beach bars and you don’t feel too out of place in a bikini. We walked to the southern end of the beach and it got increasingly more busy with more and more locals running about, fishing boats being pulled in/or out of the water and people hiring body boards and selling sarongs and hippy trousers. At the far end we came to the fence separating the beach from the national park and were happy to spot a barking deer and a few monkeys. We walked back to the hotel and hadn’t realised how far we’d walked, we were tired and hot and ready for a lay down.
Rhys walking along the beach at Pangandaran.
Barking deer on the beach at Pangandaran.
That night we walked to one of the beach shacks for dinner and drinks. There was a raffle on at one of the bars with live music and you got a ticket every time you bought two Bintang (beer). We ended up with a few raffle tickets and thought we were in with a good chance of winning, sadly, we didn’t take any of the prizes (there was a water cooler, a TV and a DVD player, just what you want when you’re traveling), but Rhys got on stage as the middle man in a 3 person T-shirt (very hard to explain, I think you had to be there), danced and won a shirt.

The next day I woke up feeling rotten. We’d rented a motorbike for the day but I felt so terrible I couldn’t leave the room. Rhys looked after me and pottered around the room watching TV and playing computer games, venturing out for dinner at a beach bar.

After sleeping for 16 hours or so, I woke early feeling a lot better. There was a knock at the door at 8am. The guy we’d booked our train tickets to Yogyakarta with had booked them for a day early and our lift was there to pick us up. We weren’t packed, Rhys was in bed and I wasn’t well enough for the journey. Cross, we then spent a couple of hours waiting around to sort out the confusion and ended up paying an extortionate amount for a business class ticket the following day (I say extortionate but it was only £18, that’s just a lot for Indonesia). We hired a motorbike from our guesthouse and headed out to explore, keen to turn around the luck we’d been having since arriving in Java.

We headed out of Pangandaran and followed the road towards Batu Karas. About halfway, the tarmac ended and we had a bone crunching journey for the last 15km, I don’t know why they don’t repair one patch at a time instead of digging up an endless stretch of road. Just before the turn off to Batu Karas we reached the terminal for boats to the Green Canyon. As this seems to be the most popular day trip from Pangandaran we thought we’d give it ago and rented a boat. The journey took all of 20 minutes, along a lovely stretch of river with emerald green waters and forested slopes, to reach the entrance to the canyon where the boats stopped. For an extra £5 you could swim but we weren’t really interested, you get tired of being looked at sometimes and feel you don’t need to give people any more reason to point. Back at the parking lot we agreed it had been a fun way to pass 50 minutes but certainly wasn’t mindblowing and was expensive for what it was (since we had to pay for a boat for 6 people to ourselves).
The green canyon, near Pangandaran.
We continued along the road until we reached Batu Karas, which, according to Lonely Planet is where we would find hordes of surfers. Instead, we found another cove, admittedly of nice chocolaty brown sand, but again full of people and body boards to hire punctuated with a little hill covered in rubbish with views out across the ocean. There were some nice little guesthouses and cafes around and we stopped for lunch before heading back to Pangandaran. Batu Karas was pretty, especially if you headed away from the headland to your own little secluded spot (where we had to stop as our little scooter didn’t cope well on sandy tracks) but really wasn’t anything to shout about.
The quieter end of the beach at Batu Karas.
Back in Pangandaran we reached the beach road and turned right, away from the crowds. The road turned into a track and then into a sandy path, where we passed a coconut husking plant with mountains of brown, fluffy looking husk, before ending by a lagoon lined with what we could only guess were bamboo fishing platforms. The beach there was wide, flat and empty and a whole world away from the crowds at the southern end. We were feeling pretty sun beaten and shaken from all the unsurfaced roads by this point and decided to take the bike back. A little later we wandered back down to the beach for a swim before a drink in a beach bar with a puppy. For dinner we chose to eat at one of the nicer hotels on the beach road fancying something other than rice and chicken.

Having rebooked our train tickets we were up with the cockerels allowing ourselves plenty of time to pack and get ready for our 8am pick up. At 8:20am, the van hadn’t arrived and we started to think we’d been left behind. Rhys asked out guesthouse lady to check and we found out we wouldn’t be picked up until 9am and that we were booked on a later train. Finally, the van arrived and we jumped in for a hot and sweaty hour long journey to Sidareja. Along with 9 other westerners, we holed up in the air conditioned VIP waiting room before being handed our tickets for the train. Once on board, the train weaved through mile after mile of endless rice paddies before arriving at Yogyakarta.

I liked Yogyakarta as soon as we stepped off the train, the streets were manic with bejaks (tricycles) and scooters and the pavements were lined with shops and stalls selling batik. We headed a couple of blocks south of the station to the backpacker area of Sastrowijaya, just off the main shopping street Malioboro, to a place we’d seen online. There weren’t any available rooms so Rhys left me with the bags and went off to find a room somewhere on one of the the two gangs (alleyways). That evening we had a quick exploration of the area, ate dinner and went to bed.

The next day we decided against our original plan to rent a motorbike to visit the temples at Prambanan, 17km outside of Yogya, since the transport the tour agencies could arrange was so cheap and I was keen to stay at the temple to watch the Ramayana Ballet and we didn’t fancy the ride back after dark. It was the right choice. We had our own driver and he dropped us at the temple where we spent a couple of hours exploring in the stifling heat. Prambanan is a 9th century Hindu temple complex with a 47m high central building dedicated to Shiva. Originally there were 240 temples in the compound but most of the outer buildings have collapsed and you can wander around the rubble before reaching the central temples, adorned with bas reliefs spiraling up into the sky. So far on our trip we haven’t been blown away with Hindu architecture but this was different and we were both impressed with not only the scale of the complex but the detail. 
Me at Prambanan Temple, near Yogyakarta.
Rhys at Prambanan Temple, near Yogyakarta.
After the temple, as we had tickets for the ballet, we had to hang around for quite a while. We sat under a tree by the temples just enjoying the atmosphere before wandering back to the car park to meet our driver. There are a few other temples nearby in the same park but it was so incredibly hot we didn’t want to walk around more. Our driver dropped us at a restaurant for a quick dinner before taking us to the open air theatre for the ballet. As we still had a couple of hours until show time we took a table at the theatre restaurant and enjoyed a couple of drinks while the sun set with views over the temple. When it was time, we made our way into the theatre and settled into our concrete seats. The show started and the dancers came out in full costume to perform an epic Hindu poem with the floodlit temple as the backdrop. It was a great experience although very different to European ballet, here it was all about right angles, elbows, knees and ankles, no pointy toes in sight. After a scene with some fire we had a short interval and it started to drizzle, two thirds of the audience headed off while we waited for the rain to stop. They dried the stage and the show continued and we left happy and tired.
Rhys with the stars of the Ramayana Ballet, Prambanan Temple.
Ramayana Ballet with the floodlit Prambanan Temple in the background.