This is a vacation travelogue, if you will, describing my trip to Indonesia |
TANGKUBAN PARAHU VOLCANO The last overseas trip we took I returned with a run-down of what we did on a day-to-day basis, but this time, instead, I’ve been thinking about taking certain aspects of the country and expatiating on them one at a time. I would hope this would keep my experiences to a short, concise limit so you won’t find my writings too lengthy or tiresome. There were many things about Indonesia that impressed me during our travels, but the main two were the people and the food, in that order. I think, however, I may start with the adventures we had and the details concerning each one. There were only a few, but they peppered our weeks with a savory flavor which gave us something to look forward to, and then, afterwards, something to remember our journey by for years to come. The first great adventure we embraced took place from Jakarta where we embarked upon a trip to the closest of the many active volcanos located in the area. On February 14th we hired a guide and a driver and left early in the morning for the Tangkuban Parahu volcano. After being in the country already for one week, I had chosen to wear shorts for the very first time since the people of Indonesia find exposed knees and armpits immoral. Therefore, I chose a pair of long shorts that hung down to my knees. The city of Jakarta is an active one. Along with the exhaust fumes and the noise pollution, one must contend with the hustle and bustle of the over-crowded streets where three lanes easily accommodate six jam-packed lanes full of motor bikes and scooters, cars, vans, motor bikes, buses, trucks, and did I say motor bikes? These small two-wheeler vehicles squeeze into the tiniest of spaces including those found along the shoulders of the highways as well as between larger vehicles such as buses and vans. Like mosquitoes, as they did in Thailand and Malaysia, these tiny bikes swarm like bees up and down every highway and byway in Indonesia. We traveled the highway for hours in this fashion, thankfully in an air-conditioned van with the windows rolled up tightly against the stench of the city. While bouncing from seat to roof and back down to the seat again on the bumpy, potted roads, I watched the world go by through the window. Along with the miles and miles of jungles, hills, and far-away mountain scenery, there were long stretches consisting of terraces which were covered with either neat squares of flooded rice paddies, or bushy green rows of tea plantations to feast our eyes upon. Occasionally we asked the driver to stop so we could get photos of women thrashing their crops, or drying their rice out on the tarps they had stretched out along the road or in their driveways. We came to an unexpected detour and had to find our way along a rural route where we had to stop from time-to-time to get directions from the locals. It was along these off-the-beaten-track roads where we were first given a glimpse of what life is really like for the average middle class to poor Indonesian. Horse-drawn taxis, called The Lone Bendis, and miniature seats attached to bicycles where kids in attractive crisp, clean uniforms sat as they were pedalled to school by the adult operator, as well as the ubiquitous motor bikes and bicycles, traversed the winding, rutted road beside, behind, and before us. The horses that pull the carriages are small pony-sized animals. They come in every color imaginable and I believe they may be Bashkirs or Bataks. A horse in Indonesia is called a kuda and to make it hurry along one must say ‘huss’. Giddy-up might work too, but I think you’d have to have a pretty good Indonesian accent for them to understand the meaning. Bagoose (bagus) means good in Indonesian and that is exactly the way we found the volcano. Our first encounter with the giant wonder came as we exited the van in which we had bounced our way up the mountainside. We found the air cold, clammy, and wet beneath a grey, overcast sky. I had thought at that point that perhaps I had not chosen my habiliments wisely that morning after all, but once we got moving, I changed my mind instantly! As it turned out, the humidity of the tropical island was not far off as it had first appeared. We stood over the Domas edge and looked down into that crater, first. Then we moved on to the Tangkuban Parahu, eyeing those who had gone before us already making their way along the hot gurgling mouth of the giant spectacle. For a time a thick mist blew over the view but just as we had been told, it blew away again within minutes and when it did the sight below was spectacular! It took a while to make our way down into the crater. There were steps upon steps we had to traverse first which lead their winding way down inside the volcano in uneven stairs made of sticks, fallen trees, rocks, and dirt. Vendors hoping to sell us their goods; homemade jewelry, post cards, petrified eggs, and handicrafts such as ash trays and vases carved out of the trunks of ferns, took us by the arms and helped us along. Since we knew what they were up to, and since we were already aware of how over-priced their goods were, we had made a decision not to buy anything from them no matter how pushy they got. They got very pushy, by-the-way, but we stuck to our guns. So much so that on the way back out of the volcano, they left us cold to fend for ourselves. Once on the volcano, we boiled some eggs in the 120 degree hot-springs which we enjoyed only ten minutes later while sitting on the hard lava rocks that make up the ground inside the volcano. I found this experience to be the highlight of the whole excursion. I can’t, unfortunately, describe the lofty feelings that accompanied that little meal, but suffice it to say I regard it as one of the most special moments of the trip. As we explored the surface, we discovered that what we were walking on was only a thin layer or crust of hardened lava and only a few inches below us was a moving boiling liquid. If we stepped too hard, or loosened a rock, the steam from below would leak out with a burst that would make us jump. Our guides thought nothing of snatching up several of the green sulphur-covered crystals and placing them in plastic bags for us to take back home with us, or writing graffiti on the rocks that surrounded the area. There were no walk-ways, no fences or warning signs in the area so we could go wherever we pleased and do whatever we desired. We were able to get a few photos since we had purchased a cheap 35mm camera earlier in the week. Our guides showed us how to make steam rise from the sulphur by blowing through a cigarette. They tried blowing without a cigarette to show us that nothing would happen without the influence of nicotine. We saw two kudas on the volcano. Both were tacked up and fiery, either prancing or cantering in hand and obviously eager to go as they were being led across the cement pathway. On the walk out of the volcano, we were shown two different types of glow-in-the-dark mushrooms, three different types of fern, one of which is used in cooking soup. Later, we discovered we had been 1,864 feet above sea level. We could see the Java Sea from that vantage point below a blue/black sky covered in mist with green rain forest trees looming from all sides. It was gorgeous and reminded me of post cards and paintings I had seen before. The trees were the homes of black monkeys which resemble gibbons and we were fortunate enough to spy one in the branches before leaving the volcano. TAMAN SAFARI On the 20th of February, Normie and I scheduled a visit to the Taman Safari, the home of the endangered Sumatra Tiger. The park is located on the side of an active volcano which was thrilling enough in itself. That fact, however, didn’t prepare us for the fascinating experience we were about to partake in, however. Although I have seen many through the years, this safari, other than South Africa itself, turned out to be the best I have ever encountered. On the morning of the safari, Normie and slipped down the staircase and out the door as we headed to the hotel restaurant which was accessed through a side door of the main building. The sky was not yet threatening and we were still hoping at that point for a crisp clear day. We were surprised to find the restaurant empty with no banquet pre-set as usual. Since we were the only guests, we were offered a menu with only two choices. I picked the ever-popular chocolate Koko Crunch cereal and Normie ordered the more conventional omelette and the ubiquitous fried rice that accompanies every meal in Indonesia whether it be breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Jen, our guide, and his non-English-speaking driver, came early so we were able to get a head start on the day. True to form, there were no back seatbelts in Jen’s van. For some reason only the front seats in this country come equipped with belts. Oh well, we settled back in our comfortable seats nonetheless and prepared ourselves for the long two hour journey ahead. We stopped once along the road in a city called Cimahi (Chee-ma-hee) to take photos of a black monkey that was obviously the pet of a local family. Husband, wife, and child were standing along the roadside with the monkey in hand. The primate was as tall as the little boy and they looked too cute to pass up. We discovered the monkey’s, or lutang’s (loo-tang), name is Bambi. He looked more like a gibbon to me, but Jen assured me it was not the same breed. We hopped back into the van and continued to travel the winding, bumpy one-lane road on our way to the safari park. As we got nearer and nearer the sky began to grow darker and cloudier. It was apparent we were going to see some rain somewhere along the way before the day was done. At the park we were delighted to find that the animals are free to walk around at their leisure. The meat-eaters were separated by huge gates that were opened for us as we approached and then closed again after us. We bought a few bunches of carrots to feed the vegetarian mammals that wander up to the windows looking for hand-outs. These were mainly the zebras, the llamas, the camels, and the hippos that lay in the water up to their chins with their mouths wide open to accept the tasty orange treats we threw to their open jaws. When we drove through the bear enclosure, we were instructed to roll up our windows. It was a good thing we were quick about it, too, because one of the grizzlies nearest to our car spotted a carrot leaf that was clinging to my window and ambled over to investigate. It pushed its paw against the window and opened its mouth to nibble off the tidbit and I was astounded to find myself so close to such a monstrous creature! The bear had not appeared to be so huge from afar! Just think, there I was, only a window thickness away from one of nature’s most unpredictable and dangerous animals! White rhinos also wandered around the van as we drove through. It was exciting to be so close to them, too, even though only two short years ago we had almost been trampled by one of their cousins, the African black rhino, during a safari in Kruger National Park. There were lions, too, which either wandered up the road and over to the car, or remained on their strong but soft sides, resting in the grass beside the rocks and trees that sheltered them. Every kind of tiger imaginable decorated the foliage with their bright orange and black stripes. There were even a few white tigers. What a sight to see! Having been up close and personal with a few lions and tigers, myself, at the Siberian Tiger Foundation in Ohio years ago, I knew what kind of power and strength each of those animals possessed in their legs and paws and to see so many of them loose and free like that was a spectacular sight! Every kind of African animal was represented in that park from the big cats, including the cheetah, to the elephants, giraffes, and deer. There were also sun bears, jaguars, binturongs, orangutans, and smaller primates on display as well. Herds of bison as well as several exotic breeds of deer grazed lazily under the treetops as we slowly slipped past. The rain fell half way through the drive, but it didn’t hinder our visibility nor the activities of the wildlife, so we quickly forgot about it until we finished the drive and decided to take a peek at the rest of the park which picked up where the drive-through safari had left off. Inside the grounds, while enjoying the remainder of our visit on foot, the rain let up for a while. Turning a corner, we finally spotted the Sumatran Tiger that we had been looking for! I was reminded of how fortunate we had been two years ago when we visited Asia and caught a glimpse of the endangered Sumatran Rhino! There are five rhinos in the world and the Sumatran is one of the most endangered. What a privilege it had been to see one in the flesh! That’s how I felt about seeing the tiger! There were birds galore, from varieties of hornbills to broadbills and king fishers; parrots, owls, and wading birds. We also saw pumas, golden cats, and serval cats. I had never seen such a collection of so many different wild cats in one place before in my life. While walking past the elephant/camel ring where rides were being offered to the public, a few of the younger pachyderms that were not old enough to be ridden, wandered around and one of the smallest ones reached its trunk out to me as I passed by. A keeper gave me a couple slices of melon to offer the hungry beast and I very willingly obliged. Another, taller elephant came over for a treat and as I placed a morsel inside his mouth, I gave his trunk a hug. He was very amicable and I didn’t want to walk away when it was time to go. The rain started to fall again by the buckets near the end of our visit. We were given an umbrella so we could continue to make our way through the park so we wouldn’t have to miss out on anything. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped to visit Jen’s sister and her family. She made banana fritters for us and I sat back to enjoy them with a bottle of Tehbottle, which is an Indonesian favorite, while Normie had a common ol’ every day bottle of Coca Cola. That night, warm and dry in spite of the weather we had just experienced, Normie and I tried a bag of Lay’s seaweed flavoured potato chips and we found them surprisingly tasty. Although they don’t sound very good, they were so flavorsome! I would have bought them again in a heartbeat if I were ever given the opportunity. PANGANDARAN On the 27th of February we met with our guide, Jen, once again, and his driver, Ali, so we could be transported to Pangandaran for two days and one night. The objective was to spend the first morning in the national park and the second snorkeling over the coral reefs in the Java Sea. The drive to Pangandaran was the same as those we had taken previously when we went to Tango Ban Brochu volcano, and then later, to Taman Safari, the leading wildlife recreational park in Bogor, Indonesia. That is to say, the road was long, winding, and full of bumps and ruts that our van never seemed to be able to avoid. We stopped early on in the piece to purchase some Indonesian-type snacks at a fast-food place, Indonesian-style. I say Indonesian-style because the experience was unlike any other form of fast food purchasing I have ever seen or done before in my life. First of all, you need to know that the roads in Indonesia are bordered by shops that are lined up one after the other, shoulder-to-shoulder. Jen picked one of these shops, had Ali stop the vehicle, told the owner what he wanted, who then cooked his order while we waited. Jen bought twenty cubes of fried tahu (tofu) and leaves for us to share along the way. I may as well mention at this point that all the shops lined up by the side of the road in a row side-by-side sell the exact same things. Therefore, if you’re looking for sate kambing, which is coconut lamb saute on a skewer, or sate kalenchi, which is rabbit, all you need to do is know where the line of shops that make that meal are located. Anybody is able to point you in the right direction. Later, when we made a real meal stop, Normie and I ordered a bendrick, which is a hot drink made of ginger and coconut. I mention it here only because it was fabulous. It’s the type of drink you would want to have if you had a sore throat or a congested chest. It was better than a hot cup of tea. When we finally arrived at our destination, we were shown several rooms in a few of the many hotels located near the Java Sea. We chose room B1 at the Grand Mutriana Hotel which included a TV, air conditioner, hot water, and a balcony. As soon as we were booked in, we hopped back into the van again and headed straight for the national park. Of course the sky decided to send the rain just as we disembarked from the van. We were given some umbrellas, luckily, and decided not to let the weather interfere with our scheduled plans. I’m glad we had made that decision, for the walk through the rain forest turned out to be more than we had expected. Not only were we able to spot a few black monkeys that decorated the branches of the trees and threw fruit down on us from the tallest ones, but we were fortunate enough to witness the sound they make which I had only heard before in movies and on TV. At first I thought they were frogs or some kind of birds, but as Normie pointed out later, their calls sound more like something you would not expect to come from a throat made of flesh and blood, but rather the sound you would get by banging a stick on a tree. It was loud and we were quite surprised, to say the least, when we were told where that odd sound was coming from. We also had the opportunity to feed peanuts to the makaks that prowled the ground for hand-outs, and the porcupines that inhabit the caves we were able to explore during our excursion. The cave was as full of bats as the forest was of deer. These usually timid mammals allowed us to come pretty close to them and I don’t believe I had ever been so close to wild deer before in my life. Our guide stopped to fish out a scorpion from under a fallen tree so it could pose for a picture while he held it in his hand. He explained how to handle a scorpion and offered us the opportunity to do so, but Normie and I quickly turned the offer down. We were amazed at how much the hornbills that flew about the branches sounded like the kookaburras of Australia that we’re so familiar with. That night, as the sun dove into the Indian Ocean, Normie and I walked along the edge of the Java Sea and marveled at how dark the sand was. It resembled kangaroo meat to me, whereas Normie likened the shade to dark chocolate or coffee. As we walked we marveled at the many firsts Normie had experienced on this vacation so far; the hiss of a cobra, the chatter of monkeys, the sound, especially, that the black monkey makes, his first look at a porcupine in real life, and the squeaking of bats. We also experienced a few firsts together: As we were headed to the cave we came to a fresh water spring where several men on motor bikes went past. Two were carrying live goats that were bawling their heads off as they went by. We asked our guide what that was all about and he told us the goats were going to be sacrificed at the springs. Apparently there’s a legend that surrounds the area which claims the water provides ever-lasting youth. He went on to explain the goats would be sacrificed there due to its holy appeal. We also witnessed a wild makak drinking tea from a bottle. We learned that the black monkeys in the forest remain in the trees and do not descend to the ground. They eat only fruit and vegetables that the trees provide. The makaks, however, eat anything they can get their grabby little fists around. That explains the afore mentioned tea drinking primate. That night, as the sun slowly descended upon this far away place with its strange sounding name, we sat in the balcony and enjoyed a cold drink and some snacks before bedtime. We discussed our vacation and where it was taking us, and how we had arranged everything we had done so far on the spur of the moment instead of having everything already sorted out and scheduled beforehand the way we had done on our last overseas trip. We were quite pleased with the results so far and considering the cost of pre-arranged tours, we were well ahead of the game. The next morning Jen and Ali arrived on time as planned. Normie and I had just finished a beautiful breakfast on an outside table which had been ordered the day before upon our arrival. Jen brought a pair of fins and a pair of coral shoes for us. They were both too big for me, so we looked around for something that was my size, but to no avail. We decided that Normie should use the fins since the shoes could be made to stay on my feet in spite of their huge size. After sorting that problem out, we piled into the van and were taken directly to the beach. We found a sandau waiting for us on the shore as we pulled up. This is a long, thin boat with four or five seats with a motor in the back. It has a pontoon attached on either side and poles to attach a cloth roof to when necessary. As soon as we boarded the boat we were off for the nearest island. The coral beach in which we did our snorkeling acts as a barrier from the open sea so there is no danger of running into a shark. This made the experience that much more exciting since we didn’t have to be looking over our shoulder at every turn. The first thing I noticed was the snap, crackle, and pop that the coral makes when the current flows over it. This almost sizzling sound is constant and therefore often ignored as we spent the next hour and a half with our faces underwater. We saw all kinds of coral fish and many multicoloured corals. There were cod fish, angel fish, blue fish with black stripes, leather jackets, black and yellow fish, long-nosed fish and red fish with big black saucer eyes that came up close to check us out. When we finished we took some time on the beach to enjoy the scenery. Makaks came out of the forest to check out our boat. The jungle trees come directly to the shore and we were told that sometimes early in the morning or early evening a deer or two can be spotted on the beach. Sometimes the monkeys can be pretty annoying and if you try to chase them away they can become very aggressive so people mostly leave them alone. They were a treat for us to see, though, since we can’t see monkeys on our beaches in Oz. On the trip home we stopped at Jen’s house and met his entire family. BRUNEI Since our overseas adventure started in Brunei, I’ve decided to continue this literary journey by going back to the beginning and revisiting this rich and pristine kingdom once again. On February 6th we arrived at our destination quite a few hours later than scheduled because our plane had arrived late in Brisbane. Because of this difference in time we were mentally thrown off. We didn’t realize by exactly how much until later, though, when we went to a travel agent and planned a tour of the Merimbun Rain Forest at the same time our flight was scheduled for Jakarta. Of course we didn’t realize it until all the paper work had been completed. Before saying our good-byes, however, we assured the young woman with whom we were conducting this business transaction that we would return to take the tour on our way back home again. Eighty percent of Brunei is covered by the most pristine rain forests in the world. Just to give you an idea of its petite size, its population is only 372,361. The population of Indonesia, on the other hand, is over 200,000,000. Since our flight didn’t land in Brunei until eight o’clock in the evening, we weren’t given much time to get acclimated to our location until the next day. Bright and early we had our complimentary breakfast then headed outdoors to the bus stop located across the street from our hotel. With the thick Brunei Yearbook under Normie’s arm that he found in the hotel room so he could point to the beautiful photos of the places where we wanted to go when we needed directions, Normie and I boarded the purple bus as we had been instructed and went to the closest outdoor market which turned out to be on the largest water village in the world. The bus afforded us a new experience in itself. It’s a large vehicle, but inside the seats are arranged with room for only one passenger per seat down one side and two down the other. The conductor sits near the door and when the bus starts moving, she or he goes down the aisle to take the fares. The price is one dollar per passenger regardless of the destination. Normie tried a boiled salty egg at the market. It was black but came out white with the yolk and the white part hard as a rock. He said it tasted like a salt rock too. There were cats down every aisle: Skinny, sickly-looking cats. They would either lie or sit on the ground, immobile, not affected by the dried kippers and giant prawns or the cooked chicken whose aromas traveled the aisles on an invisible bus line. Brunei women dress in foot-length dresses or slacks and long head scarves that cover the neck and throat. Some scarves are even longer and cover the shoulders. We learned that these garments represent the religion of the wearer and are voluntary, not mandatory to the Muslim religion. Since it is inappropriate to show the knee or arm pit, in the unbearably hot tropical heat Normie and I wore long pants and collared shirts with sleeves down to the elbow for nearly the entire four weeks we visited Indonesia. We boarded a water taxi (a boat) to tour the water village which is referred to as ‘The Venice of Brunei’. We passed tin-roofed houses, restaurants, grocery stores, and schools that were built on stilts. These were dilapidated buildings; old and rugged structures and looked odd against the golden glistening mosques that loomed over the city from behind. We were amazed to discover that every hovel had a satellite dish. At one point a kitten caught my eye as it struggled to walk on the narrow ledges around a yardless house above the canal. I was amazed that these water people who lived in such homes without front lawns or backyards would even consider owning a pet, but we saw several dogs as well as cats while touring the village. As we drifted past the Golden Dome Palace, it served to remind us that Brunei is a kingdom not a republic. The king, who is also a sultan, is the second richest person in the world, second only to, guess who? Bill Gaits, of course. We were told that the king visits a mosque once a week and since no one knows for sure which one he’ll pick, every service they conduct themselves as if they’re expecting him that day. Other taxis slapped past making wakes but no waves. The driver took us to his house and we waved to his wife and daughter as we went by. When the ride was over, we walked to the Sultan Palace which had a dry moat and two motionless guards posted at each entrance. Afterwards we caught another bus to the largest shopping center in the country, the name of which is ten feet long; then we boarded anotherie just like the otherie to visit the Brunei Museum. While waiting for our bus, a woman stopped to take us back to our hotel. She said the buses going back to the city are not reliable so she often looks out for travelers as she drives by. While in the city, we tried sweet corn ice cream and yam ice cream along with a pear and honey drink. All were extremely yum. That night we went to bed prematurely because we were scheduled to be at the airport early the next morning. JAKARTA February 8, 2006 Since I don’t change my watch when traveling, the next morning Normie read 6:00 AM on my watch and decided to get up when it was really only 4:00 AM. We had showered and packed before we realized he had read my watch wrong. Sitting on the plane before take-off I looked out at the terminal, the parking lot, the runway and I thrilled to the fact that soon, very soon, there would be crowds of cumulus, cities of cirrus, streets of stratus hanging just outside that very window and I would be in the air with those clouds once again. It took two hours to fly to Jakarta. When we arrived we hired a taxi to take us to the backpacker’s hotel which held a room that Normie had pre-arranged for us ahead of time. We were disappointed to find that a backpacker’s hotel according to the Western world is not the same to those in the Eastern countries. The place was located down a dark and dirty alley which made my toes curl up. The hotel was a grubby square building at the end of this alley and the room was enough to turn my stomach. Like a prison cell there were no windows. There were two cots on either side of the room, both only a foot off the ground and very small covered with a grey mattress pocked with stains. There was one glaring ceiling lamp in the middle of the room and nothing else. As we quickly left the building, several helpful Jakartans took us under their wing and led us down the street to other vacant hotel rooms in other equally drab and dirty buildings. We turned them all down. We finally arrived at a travel agency so we went in looking for direction. We told the proprietor what we were after so he directed us to the Cipta Hotel which was located across the street but not too much further down the road. The name of this hotel is pronounced Chip-ta, for the hard ‘C’ sound in the Jakartan language is pronounced the way we say the letters ‘CH’ together. We were given a room with air conditioning, a big single bed, a large TV, a refrigerator, and a working elevator. Even more importantly, the room was CLEAN! During our first supper on the streets of Jakarta, we were serenaded by a guitarist with a beautiful voice. As we learned later, serenading, busking, and begging are all regarded as perfectly fine ways to earn a living in Jakarta. They happen everywhere; on the bus, the bajaj (which is an Indian made three-wheeled vehicle similar to Thailand’s tuk-tuk), and the van-like mini-bus that occurs on every street corner from one end of the city to the other. February 9th We spent most of our very first day in Jakarta on foot in the rain beneath borrowed or rented umbrellas. People come from out of the woodwork, somehow aware of the weary traveler’s wet predicament, offering umbrellas in out-stretched arms, for a price, of course. One man gave us an umbrella then followed us around until we didn’t need it any more. Then he let us know how much we owed him for the favor which we had never asked for. We first walked to the Freedom Monument. It was a twenty minute walk from our hotel. This monument is a five hundred foot tall structure that allows the viewer a magnificent scope of the city, something like New York’s Statue of Liberty. When we arrived at the steps to the building, a self-appointed tour guide appeared to take us to the top. We did not ask for his assistance and at first we were reluctant to pay him when the tour had ended, but we had been able to glean valuable information from him, so we didn’t mind the few dollars he wanted when it was time for us to part. While in the building, a family of Jakartans asked to have their photos taken with us. They treated the whole affair as though it were a real honor to them. This was the first time something happened to make us feel like celebrities. We had no idea that we were going to feel that way most of the time during our visit to Indonesia. We walked to the corner to catch a small blue bus, referred to as ‘The Blue Car’ by locals. On the way we passed a school of karate students beginning their exercises for the day so we stopped to take a few photos. We also witnessed the military police doing drills in formation so we stopped to take some photos of them as well. The blue car took us to China Town, which turned out to be a disappointment. It was a building where every floor had a trillion stalls that sold anything that had to do with only one thing; electronics. From there we walked to the Mangga Dua Market. (Mangga is how the Indonesians spell the word ‘mango’ and dua is their number two). This mall is a famous wholesale shopping center located near the International Trade Center. We were able to purchase many items at good prices to either sell on Ebay or at the Sunnybank Hills Market. We also purchased a few items for our own personal use. We were the only white people in the area and because of that, and the friendliness of the locals, we felt like celebrities. Wherever we went, we heard friendly voices calling out to us: “Hello, Mister!” or “Hello, Mrs!” We have never seen such a land full of such happy people before. They are always ready with a smile and a friendly hello, and when gathered together, no matter where they are, they are always laughing. While visiting Indonesia, Normie had been invited to join in a paint ball game, a boxing match, and a game of tennis. He had been offered meals time and time again while perambulating up and down the walkways exploring the many shops that line the streets near our hotel. JAKARTA (Feb 10th - 13th) February 10th Normie and I discovered where most of the malls were located so we chose to get on the bus daily to visit the Sarina Building and the Mega Glodok Kemayoran Mall, which is a giant shopping complex with several connecting malls. Both were located on the same end of the busline so even through the daily showers it was convenient for us to visit them both in one day. I found a place to get my hair cut and permed, but unfortunately, ‘body wave’ got translated into ‘no perm at all’ and I came out with less curls than I went in with. It was a nice cut, though, so I didn’t complain even though Normie said I should go back and get the perm I really wanted. Because my hair was no longer curly I had to buy a hair drier and a brush, both of which I had left our Aussie house without since I never dreamed I’d be needing them on this trip. This particular day Normie and I witnessed a motor bike accident. The rider had gotten too close to the curb and ran into it, which sent his bike skidding across the cement and left him lying flat on his back with his feet suspended over the sidewalk. In seconds the police were on the scene along with a hundred helpful spectators who jumped rails, stopped traffic, and climbed fences to get to his aid. Normie and I had to step over a thong that had been thrown from his foot when he hit the pavement. There are no laws that govern the wearing of helmets when riding motor bikes on the streets of Jakarta. It’s up to the citizen’s own discretion whether to wear one or not. This particular rider, I’m sorry to say, was not wearing a helmet. February 11th Early in the day Normie and I spent an hour or so in the National Museum then walked back to the Sarina building and had a hot plate meal and lemon ice for lunch. Later, we visited McDonalds. Now dining in this famous fast food restaurant is not the same experience as it is in those restaurants I’ve known in America or even in Australia. The menu is totally different. For one thing, there are no hamburgers. Since most of the citizens of Jakarta do not eat pork in any fashion, the hamburgers at McDonald’s are called beefburgers and they taste just like the regular burgers you get at McDonald’s the world over. Hamburgers, on the other hand, are not the same thing! There is spaghetti on the menu as well as soup, rice, which comes wrapped like a burger, chicken equal to that of KFC’s, and an egg with every combo meal. The drive-through is appropriately called a ‘Mc Stop’ and consists of a little red box with a chair in it. A young woman sits on the chair and takes your order. Another young woman goes inside to get the items, and then brings them back to your car. Every McDonald’s also features a musholla, which is a small mosque, if you will, designed for prayer with mats for people to sit upon. McDonald’s also offers take-away food. Your order is placed in a hot box which is attached to the back of a motor bike. The rider who operates the motorbike wears a McDonald’s outfit. We just had to take photos of this since we had never seen anything like it before! During the night I came down with a bug that upset my stomach and made me nauseous. I was harassed with diarrhea and the chills all night. February 12th I couldn’t eat much brekky since I still didn’t feel well. I stayed in our room all morning, getting up to walk the hallway at Normie’s advice, or to take a short walk in the fresh air outside when I was up to it. I had to force myself to get out of bed, though, and it took much persuasion on Normie’s part to get me on my feet. I slept most of the day, and by suppertime, I convinced myself I was getting better so I managed to walk to Sizzler’s that night for tea. Earlier, when Normie went out without me, people asked him where his wife was. Some of these people were strangers to us both; how they realized I was not on Normie’s arm as usual was a mystery to us. Being sick made me depressed and every time I thought about something from the past it made my heart ache. When you’re feeling that bad you wonder if you will ever feel well again. I was glad when evening came so I could rest. I slept well that night and woke up the next morning feeling on top of the world. February 13th On this morning Normie and I walked to Sarina and caught a bus to the terminal where we got a blue car to Kasteel Batavia, or, Old Jakarta. This is the area where Dutch denomination of Jakarta and the rest of Indonesia began. There is a large town garden located in the city, with a European-style garden called Taman Fatahilla, located in the center. We wanted to see the puppet museum, but it took all morning to find. No one seemed to understand what we were looking for no matter how well we managed to act like puppets. By the time we finally found the building, we discovered the museum was closed on Mondays. Oh well, we vowed we would come back again and this time we would know where we were going! We visited the fish market since we were in the vicinity. It’s supposed to be one of those places where tourists like to go, but we couldn’t understand what the attraction was: There were only a couple of stalls down a bleak and muddy street. We did see something worth noting that day, however; a man stood on the corner with an aquarium filled with cobras. When he saw us standing there looking interested, he pulled one out. The huge snake just ‘sat’ there, so the man poked at it with his finger until the snake opened its hood and hissed. He kept poking and prodding it over and over so the reptile never had a chance to relax. Normie had never heard a snake hiss in real life before. He was fascinated. On the day I got my hair cut, Normie got his colored. He had asked for a light brown but got blonde instead. People kept stopping him to ask if he was from Holland. We found out later that a busload of Dutch tourists was visiting the area at the same time we were there. We assumed everyone had assumed Normie was from that group. Often women would stand directly in front of Normie and stare into his face. He couldn’t figure out why they would be so enthralled with his looks. I pointed out that his features were far different from most people not to mention his build and his coloring. We caught a bajaj and went to see the old ships which were moored in the harbor. There were narrow wooden planks that stretched from land to every gunwale and time and time again we were invited to climb aboard. We turned the offers down, however, satisfied just to stand and take pictures of the men that carried heavy boards or sacks of cement to and from the ships. There were two types of ships; those with two masts and those with only one. We were told the ships with two masts were the old ships and were not propelled by motors. We caught a mini bus next and decided to explore another part of the harbor, but we disembarked too early and ended up at an amusement park instead. Although it looked tempting, we decided not to enter the park and chose to go back to the Mangga Dua Mall again, instead. While we were on the walkway that led to the park, a man tried to sell us some pigeons; feathered rocks with live beaks and feet and tails which he carried in each hand. Can you imagine someone trying to sell us pigeons? We picked up the ten kotekas (penis cones) we had ordered from a street vendor earlier in the week. The price we paid for all of them was only Rp178.24 which translates to a mere $18. The next day we got up bright and early to visit the Tangkuban Parahu volcano, but I already mentioned that trip, so I will resume this literary journey with February 15th. JAKARTA TO BANDUNG JAKARTA February 15th Normie and I had been discussing what to do with the next two weeks remaining in February. We had decided we had seen everything that we were interested in seeing in Jakarta. We had heard Kota Bandung, called The City of Flowers, located three hours from Jakarta via train, has many features including factory outlet stores. Since the stores were something we had been looking for from the start, we thought the city would be just the place to visit. The plan was to return to Jakarta one last time for three days before our flight back to Brunei, so we paid the Cipta Hotel for the three nights we would spend with them upon our return. Previously, we had booked a room in The Grand Lembang Hotel for those two weeks and purchased our train tickets that would take us to the kota (city). We had made an appointment with a local magician who has a shop in the Glodok Shopping Mall, so we caught a bajaj from our hotel and explained to the driver it was pertinent to our schedule that we get there on time. Wouldn’t you know the driver had all kinds of trouble with his vehicle, the traffic, not to mention the roads, and since we were moving too slowly for our liking, we paid him part of the fee we had agreed to and, much to his chagrin, hopped out of the little vehicle just as anotherie just like the otherie went by going in the opposite direction. We told our new driver what the score was and luckily this one was trustworthy and was able to get us to our destination in record time. BANDUNG February 16th We got up early in anticipation of our impending three hour train trip. After brekky we hired a taxi to take us to the station. When we arrived, two porters carried our luggage up four flights to our train stop and wanted only $1.50 each for the effort. Since we arrived hours ahead of time, we chose a comfortable bench and sat down to wait for our train. According to our tickets, we were looking for the Executive train, or executif in Indonesian. There were many dingy city buses that came and went. Most were old and falling apart and hardly looked track worthy. Occasionally a shiny new train would come clamoring in and Normie and I would eye it up and down hoping against hope that that would be what our train would look like. We were appalled to discover young men hanging out of the open doors or, worse yet, sitting on the top of the city trains as they passed through. Normie asked one of the locals if that was against the law. He was assured that indeed it is, but it’s a free form of transportation and since the boys are able to slide off the top of the train before it comes to a complete stop, they never get caught, so it’s worth the risk to them. These are electric trains, mind you, and they were going fast! We worried for the safety of these young men. It wasn’t until we returned to Jakarta once again when we were watching the Indonesian news channel. Several young men, much like those we had witnessed on the trains at the station that day, had been electrocuted while riding on the top of the train and two of them had died. We wondered how many times that had happened in the past and how many more times it would happen again and again in the future. When our train arrived, we were pleased to find it was indeed one of the newer models. Since the incoming train stays on the same track and doesn’t turn around, the seats were designed to swivel, so we had to wait for the conductor to turn all the seats around before we could board the train. The upholstery was brand-new and the seating compartments were more spacious than anything we had ever experienced before! We marveled at how far we could stretch our legs. The foot rests were fully adjustable, too. The seats were reclinable with pillows and there was even a TV! At one point Normie left his seat to entertain four young men who were sitting at a table with a deck of cards. He performed a few magic tricks. Prior to his intervention, these boys were obviously bored. They were trying to keep their eyes open. When Normie left them, however, they were wide-awake and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Between the good food, snacks, and beverages that were served on the train, and the breath-taking scenery that entertained us for hours, time slipped away before we knew it. When we disembarked from the station, the taxi van we had already hired was waiting faithfully by the curb. This is when Normie and I first met Jen and his brother, Ojoss, our driver for the day. We arrived at the hotel in the rain and were taken up to our room. We had been told before we left Jakarta that there wouldn’t be an air conditioner in our room since the hotel is located in the mountains, but we had requested at least a table fan just in case we should need some cool air. We had expected a refrigerator as well. It was only because Normie pressed the issue, after much discussion, that both a fan and a refrigerator were finally produced. Our room was located above the huge pale green swimming pool which provided us with a pleasant view. We couldn’t wait to get into the water, but when we tried to enjoy the pool, we found it, unfortunately, much too cold for swimming. We got our first taste of sate kelinci at a corner stall, just down the street, which is sautéed rabbit on a skewer. The meat was cooked outdoors over an open flame that the woman stood over and fanned the entire time while it cooked. We also bought a plate of sate sapi (which is sautéed beef). The kelinci was simply marvelous and we both agreed that it was, so far, our favorite sate. We took the meat home with us for tea along with a block of seasoned rice. Yum. Our first meal in Bandung. BANDUNG The First Week While we stayed in Bandung, one of our most favorite get-aways was the Jalan Merdeka Factory Outlets where we spent many hours shopping either for ourselves, or for our business. It took several trips before we found a clothing store that carried our sizes and the styles we were after for the prices we wanted to pay, but we did eventually find one. Not all the stores were as inexpensive as one would expect from an outlet factory. We even visited Pasar Baru, or ‘new market’, which, we discovered, much to our dismay, had always been famous throughout Indonesia for its sporting equipment, textiles, and curtains. Oh well, it was worth the visit anyway. For several days Normie and I had been keeping a lookout for an outlet store called Harry Tetch which was well-known throughout Indonesia for its brand-name clothing. One day we made it a point to find the elusive store. We asked questions until we found the street upon which the store was located. Then we got off the bus and worked our way down the street until we finally stumbled upon its location. After a full morning of searching, and still unable to find it, we came out of a particular store scratching our heads, wondering where on earth the store could possibly be. Thinking we were in the right area, we decided to ask the security guard that was standing outside this particular store. He insisted the store we just exited was the famous Harry Tetch outlet store we had been looking for. Astounded, I went down the steps and turned to see the sign over the front door. I nearly carked myself laughing. “Norm, Norm, look!” I shouted, between fits of laughter, pointing to the sign. Sure enough, this was Harry Tetch, alright! The only thing is, the sign read Heritage. Ha ha. One morning we decided to do something different and chose to turn down the street to the right of our hotel instead of to the left. It was here where we had our first encounter with the lone bendi. These are horse taxis that run a circular route between Lambung and Subang. Of course I just had to ride in one of the carriages! The price was Rp 5,000 (.70) for ten minutes. The chestnut that pulled our carriage was Renny and I learned the word an Indonesian driver says to make a kuda go faster: ‘huss’! Every time we took a walk down that street, every bus, mini bus (car), trichal, bicycle, motor bike, etc, driver would ask us if we wanted a lift. They didn’t do this just because we were tourists, either, for they would call out to other Indonesians who were on foot as well. We learned that there are 23 million people in Jakarta which is more than the entire population of the continent of Australia! Besides shopping Normie and I also took time to do some sight-seeing as well. We visited a couple of famous waterfalls while on our own. The first was the Omas Waterfalls in Maribaya which was located alongside the Mount Tangkuban Perahu volcano a half hour north of our hotel. A self-appointed guide got off the bus with us and showed us the sights for free. Of course we just had to pay him something since he had done the favor out of the goodness of his heart. On another day we took a yellow bus to the Curug Cipurut Waterfalls to see the monkeys that were supposed to hang out by the river. We didn’t see any, but the long stairway down to the bottom of the falls made us thirsty enough to discover the packaged water we needed was only fifteen cents. We counted the steps as we climbed back up. There were five hundred altogether. While on the bus a little tiny girl paid her fare and sat down near the back door. It was odd to see such a young child riding the bus alone, but when the little girl’s stop came up, she shouted the ubiquitous word which means stop that sounds like ‘kitty’ in Indonesian. The driver stopped and she got off as if she’d been riding buses for ninety years. There are no bus stops in Indonesia, so whenever you feel like getting on a bus, you just wait by the side of the road until the right color comes along. The drivers won’t pass you up, believe me! When it’s time to get off, just say the word and the driver pulls over wherever you want to get off. Sometimes there’s a conductor who stands at the door and shouts the final destination of the bus to the passers-by in case someone wants a lift in that direction. He often takes your money while you’re already seated, enjoying the ride. If there’s no conductor, you simply pay the driver when you get off. The conductor will also find another bus for you if you need to make a connection sometime during your journey. Often he stands outside the bus when the driver’s looking for passengers, trying to interest the many hundreds of people who go walking by into riding on the bus instead. The buses are cheap, but there is no air-conditioning. There are plenty of windows, however! To give you an idea of how inexpensive a day can be in Indonesia, we spent a total of three dollars including two bus rides to and from Omas, the entrance fee to the waterfalls, and snacks that day. We went to the Trade Center later that day and found a magic shop called the Magic Castle. There were lots of tricks to choose from, but the prices were too expensive. By then it was lunch time so I ordered a hamburger at a shopping mall and boy wasn’t I surprised! It wasn’t a beefburger, which is what I had expected, but the taste was just as good. Oh, before I end this segment of our journey, I wanted to mention that at three o’clock every morning while we stayed in the Grand Lambung Hotel we could hear loud tapping noises coming from outside and often they would wake us up. One time Normie decided to say something to the guy who was making all that noise. When he found out who the culprit was, though, he couldn’t say anything. You won’t believe this any more than I did, but the thing that was responsible for all that noise was a blind security guard’s cane!!! What??? A BLIND security guard? (I turn my head, raise my eyebrows, whistling innocently). BANDUNG The Second Week After we had been in Bandung for five days, it was Normie’s turn to get sick. He was experiencing some pain in his lower back. We thought he might have gotten hurt while sitting in Jen’s van while it bumped its way along the uneven roads, jostling us in our seats and jarring his back. At one point he was slammed down hard into his seat and he thinks that might have been the start of all the pain. At any rate, since he wasn’t up to walking or sitting in the little buses that take us to the city shops, we decided to take it easy and just laze around the pool. We spent all morning sitting under the shade trees with our legs propped up, taking in the surrounding palm trees with the distant mountain peaks and the pool dazzling in the exotic sun before us. We spent a few hours playing gin rummy and taking photos of the scenery. At one point we took to the water, but it was too cold to stay in for long. It was hard to just sit there and stare at the vast and vacant square of nothing but beautiful glistening vacation water calling to us at every glance while our bodies longed to get drenched in the shimmering aqueous gem. Normie had begun to make it a habit to take his morning cuppa down to the window at the end of the hotel corridor to watch the sun rise over the peak of the Tangkuban Parahu volcano. More than once I would accompany him. Mountains surrounded our view from every direction, but the volcano had the highest peak. We never tired of watching the mist that would slowly gather around the summit and then dissipate again before our very eyes. Late in the morning, after we had retired to our room, a group of women dressed in fancy costumes arrived with microphones, amplifiers, and lighting equipment. We watched them dancing to the same song over and over, each time in a different outfit at a different location around the pool. They appeared to be making a video. They kept going until dark. The next day Normie was feeling better so we went to the post office to see if we could send some of our goods home. We had a parcel wrapped of kotekas which we had purchased recently and some of the extra clothing we wouldn’t be needing. We watched them wrap the items in a Hessian bag and were amazed when they brought out a needle and thread so they could sew up the package around the seams! We did some shopping at the Cihampelas mall later that day. This shopping center offers a huge collection of jeans shops lined up one after the other in true Indonesian style and is, appropriately enough, located on Jeans Street. Normie had a pair of jeans tailor-made by a tailor who worked just outside the front door, also, in true Indonesian style. That day was the first and only day it didn’t rain while we were in Indonesia. Just for the fun of it, the next day Normie and I hopped on the brown bus going in the opposite direction from all the stores we usually frequented just to see where it would take us. Weren’t we surprised when the bus stopped at the Tangkuban Parahu volcano! We were expected to pay the entrance fee, and no one would believe us when we told them we weren’t intending to see the crater. It took much explaining to get them to realize we had only taken the ride to see where it would end up. Since we had had so much fun taking the brown bus into unfamiliar territory, we decided to do the same thing on the yellow bus. This time we were taken to the suburb of Subang. At one point we got off the bus so we could wander around the neighborhoods which were located off the beaten track just behind the crowded city streets. This turned out to be a highlight of our vacation. We had no idea what lay behind the unsuspecting eye. The neighborhoods were quiet, clean, and the houses were beautiful. The streets were tiny. They reminded me of bridle paths, and they wound around themselves like a cement river. Vendors walked door-to-door, ringing their bells, or tapping their sticks to let the people know they were coming. Women with babies on their arms would come out to the street, order a meal, wait for the vendor to prepare it on the spot, then go inside to enjoy it. The vendor would wait for them to bring the plates back out when they were finished. He would scrub the plates clean, then continue on his route. Many times kids would pedal up to me, three to a bike, and shout a familiar question: “What’s your name?” When I told them it was Cathe, they would, inevitably, burst out laughing as if it were the funniest thing they had ever heard. It made me wonder if Cathe meant stinky poo in Indonesian. Anyway, if there were adults around, they, too, would join the laughter. It was all so innocent; I couldn’t possibly have taken offence. The village was located at the foothills of the famous Tangkuban Parahu volcano which were beautiful. We just had to stop for photos. We also discovered a hidden maze of market stalls that were run by the locals. Just as we could while visiting the neighborhoods, by the response we were getting from the people, we could tell no white person had ever walked down those aisles before. We could hear the words “Hello Mister!” ringing out from one stall after another as Normie walked by, stopping from time to time to look at the goods that were stacked on the tables and hanging from the walls. When Normie responded, it was met with a hardy laugh. Back on the city streets again, we stopped to share an ear of roasted corn. As always we had to choose from a whole line of stalls selling roasted corn. We chose the one that was operated by a couple of little girls who were probably about nine or ten. They prepared our meal beneath sporadic bouts of giggles and surreptitious glances over their shoulders at us as we made ourselves at home upon their ‘table’ which was a platform that also served as a seat. We were impressed with the flavor and wished, afterwards, that we had ordered one ear apiece. Normie paid our young cooks and left them both a generous tip. When we boarded the bus, Normie stole a glance at the girls as it pulled away. They were jumping up and down and raising their arms in a gesture of victory over the money they had just made. We smiled at each other as the bus drove off. It rained hard on the ride home and the driver didn’t want to take us all the way back to Lambung unless we paid him more than the ride was worth. He had figured that since we were the only passengers, it wasn’t worth his while to take us that far unless we made up for the empty seats. We refused to pay the price for one main reason; we didn’t have that much money on us at the time. Besides, we didn’t think it was fair. The driver parked the bus by the side of the road while we tried to explain the situation to him and he tried to get his point across. It took at least a half hour before we were able to make ourselves understood. We waited to see what the driver was going to do. It was pouring so hard we couldn’t just get out and walk away. As it turned out, since he finally realized it wasn’t going to be worth his while to drive us back to our hotel, the driver did the next best thing; he got out and hailed another bus for us. The money we had already given him for the ride was transferred to the new driver. What a relief! We spent our last two days in Bandung at our two favorite shopping centers; Pasar Baru and the Cihampelas mall. We continued our shopping spree by adding some new shoes, a few new wrist watches, and several pairs of sun glasses to our pile of purchased goods. The sunnies were only a dollar fifty each, so we bought several. I’m always losing mine one way or the other; usually in the ocean while swimming or in the paddock when falling off Flossie. The watches were just about five dollars each. While in the mall, we had a bowl of kambing soup for tea. Normie tried some durian ice cream for dessert and I had a huge glass of egg pudding milk bubble tea. Sound strange? Maybe so, but it tasted great! JAKARTA/BRUNEI REVISITED JAKARTA After two weeks in Bandung we were scheduled to return to Jakarta for three more days before moving on to Brunei, and then, finally, home. On the third of March we had Jen pick us up from the Hotel Lambang and drive us to the train station. We arrived early, so we chose a seat in front of a large screen TV and watched a zany program while we waited. I wonder if you’ve ever seen this game show from France where people dress up in bazaar outfits and try to achieve a task set before them while dodging a charging bull. It’s dangerous, funny, and quite entertaining. It helped to while the time away. Since we weren’t able to lighten our load, our luggage was extremely heavy. I warned Jen before he picked up my suitcase that it was overweight. He just shrugged it off telling me he’s had to carry heavy luggage before and there was nothing to it. Because he wanted to save face, he wasn’t able to let on just how heavy he found my suitcase after all. I watched him walk off with it, trying to act as though the suitcase was as light as a feather. I got a good laugh over that. We arrived in Jakarta in the afternoon and caught a taxi back to the Cipta Hotel, where we had been staying before we left for Bandung. We went out to get re-acquainted with the street as soon as we had settled in our room. It was fun to see the familiar faces of the people whom we had befriended during our first stay at the hotel in Jakarta. I found it interesting that the buses in Jakarta have a lane of their own. On Sundays, since there’s far less traffic than on any other day of the week, two lanes out of the regular four lane highways are closed to traffic so people can use the lanes for roller blading, bicycling, walking, or jogging. The second day back in Jakarta we took the bus to the Glodok Mall so we could pick up the magic tricks we had ordered before we went to Bandung. Since the mall is located at the end of the line, all remaining passengers disembark, leaving an empty bus behind. During the week, from the end of the line, when you get back on the bus again the crowds are so thick you have to wait for several buses before you can get on. People gather at the bus entrance and when the door opens, like cattle they stampede in shoulder-to-shoulder, heel to toe. Jammed, pushed, and forced from all sides, people crowd into the bus two, three at a time. Woe to the people who are trying to exit the bus at the end of the line when it’s that crowded! The conductor pushes you from behind to get you started against the flow so you can get up enough momentum to keep going forward against the incoming traffic. On our last day in Jakarta, we finally managed to find the puppet museum. We had seen Kasteel Batavia, or, Old Jakarta, from the bus during an earlier shopping spree, so we had taken note of its location. We were able to get a blue car as soon as we got off the bus, which took us to the square where all the museums were located. We were a bit early, so we sat down in the shade to wait for the museum to open. While chatting with the street vendors, I enjoyed a Tehbottle while Normie had a Coke. We marveled at how the people were dressed in winter clothes while we were working hard to keep the perspiration off our faces! As we whiled the time away, we noticed an old man walking around with a magnet on the end of his stick. He was going around picking up the loose bottle tops that were scattered throughout the grounds. Normie took a photo of him and then paid him for allowing us the privilege. This is a practice we had learned from Jen. He paid all the women who had stopped their work to pose for our camera whenever we wanted a photo of them. We were grateful to the man who guided us through the puppet museum. If it weren’t for him and the information he had to share we would have just walked in, looked around, and walked right back out again only five minutes later. He not only explained the history behind the puppets, but gave us some interesting facts to think about as well such as how the best puppets are made from young female water buffalo parchment. After the museum, we hopped back on the bus and this time we rode it to the north end of the line, which is something we had never done before. At this end of the line is the Block M market district. This is a giant shopping center with both indoor and outdoor stalls. The Ratu Plaza is also located there. We were able to pick up a few inexpensive items that caught our eye as we meandered down one aisle after another. Later, as a farewell gift to ourselves, Normie got his hair cut and an upper body massage while I enjoyed a professional foot/leg massage. For all these services, we paid less than nine Australian dollars. The next day we hired a driver to take us to the airport. It was time to say good-bye to the Indonesian Island of Java where we had made ourselves at home for nearly one full month. Although I didn’t mind leaving the noisy, smelly streets behind, and the oppressive heat that was always and everywhere, I did find it hard to leave the friendliness of the people; their quick and ready smiles; their innocent hearts and laughter. As the plane soared above the island, taking us further into the clouds, I watched the earth disappear below taking the terraced rice paddies, the steamy volcanic craters, the pristine rain forests, the lush never-ending tea plantations, the exotic monkeys, and the faraway beaches with their strange sounding names from my view forever. BRUNEI The plane landed in Brunei at two in the afternoon. We had already booked a room in the Trader’s Inn the last time we had stayed in that hotel, which seemed, at this point, to have been a million years ago. As soon as we had settled in, we went back to the travel agency where we had planned to book a tour of the Merimbun Rain Forest once before only to discover we wouldn’t be in Brunei long enough to do the tour justice. The same agent we had before greeted us at the door with a warm welcome. She not only remembered our names, but also the tour we had planned to take. We proceeded book the tour for the following morning, and arranged to have our driver take us to the airport afterwards. Earlier, when we were at the airport in Jakarta, we had our luggage sent ahead to Brisbane, so the only personal possessions we had with us we were either wearing, or they were in the backpacks we were carrying. Therefore, I didn’t have any clothes to wear to bed that night, or any other equally important necessities with me, so I slept in my jacket and went without everything else for one night. The next morning we enjoyed our final complimentary breakfast of our vacation in the hotel restaurant. At seven o’clock our driver came to take us to the Merimbun National Rain Forest. An hour and a half later we entered the park. We were guided through a small museum where exotic rain forest animals were on display including an aquarium where a fish with long teeth snapped at the glass if you bent down to peek in. Later, we were escorted outdoors and down a foot path that led into the rain forest. Because we were pressed for time, we could only afford a short walk, but it was long enough to catch sight of a large squirrel as it scurried up a trail-side tree. We were also fortunate enough to see a group of red-leaf monkeys. The red-leaf is one of seven species of monkeys that live in the rain forest and according to our guide, it is the most elusive of all. The rain forests of Brunei are where many exotic animals, reptiles, and birds can be found. Proboscis monkeys, binturongs, flying squirrels, clouded leopards, giant ants, exotic dragon flies, and a multitude of exotic birds make their home there. If we ever go back again, we’ll have to make it a point to spend a few days exploring these forests. In the van, on our way out of the forest, we spotted a group of long-tailed macaque monkeys by the side of the road. The macaques we had seen earlier in Pangandaran were of the tail-less variety. The six hour plane ride home was uneventful, but when we arrived at the airport in Brisbane, we had to declare our kotekas since they were made of wood. Each one of these gourds had to be unwrapped and inspected individually. When a few ants were found in one of them, we had to leave them all behind. We were told we could have them back in a month after they had been fumigated. This concludes our trip to Indonesia. |