Well, that was Indonesia (Java and Sumatra) by Will

It has been a pretty intense 2 weeks getting from Bali to Medan (Sumatra). The day we started driving out of Bali, we were on the ferry to Java. I found Java and Sumatra to be pretty much the same as the rest of Indonesia, but less touristy…which was good, and more of a Muslim presence. Hardly anyone spoke English either.
It felt like we had driven on these roads 100 times before. All the towns and villages looked the same and so was the scenery. I am looking for to a change in Malaysia and Thailand. [Dad: the monotony of some of the days has been relieved by our two iPods - on one day we had Leonard Cohen (now then Rosie!) singing for us for almost the whole day.]

At the start of Indo. we were having Bakso (noodle soup with meat balls-probably dog). But we got sick of Bakso quickly after Bali and have now moved on to ‘nusi dan ayam’ (rice with chicken). We have been having 3 meals of this pretty much every day…it was great for a week, but we are looking forward to the change to Pad Thai!

The roads were generally a lot better than the roads in the rest of Indo. But we found it harder to navigate. There are more roads so there are different ways of getting to certain places, which makes the signage hard to decipher. But the locals were very helpful if we asked for directions…well the males were at least. Every time we asked a women or a group of chicks, for directions, they all just laughed at us and didn’t even acknowledge that we were talking to them. This must be a cultural thing. It sounds and probably is sexist, but that’s what I experienced. It was highly frustrating when you are hot, tired and lost!

We also realised not to take the ‘By pass’ around small towns and cities. It just took you through a maze of shockingly bad back roads that got us well lost. [Dad adds: on a number of occasions the locals have got in their car or on a motor bike and lead us to the road we were trying to find. We have been very grateful for this.]

The other lesson we learned was to stay well away from Jakarta (the capital of Indo.). The whole time we were in Indo, dad was telling me that there was no chance we were going to go anywhere near Jakarta…but once we compared the 2 options: taking one day, going 80 kph on a flat good road or going 40 kph on crappy roads and taking 2 days…..we thought it might be worth going through Jakarta.

But it wasn’t! We got to Jakarta on the toll road, then got lost and ended up doing 5 or 6 U-turns to get back on a bloody toll road!
Dad was driving and I was navigating. By the third U-turn [Dad: in sometimes intense traffic] there were expletives being yelled, phones, maps and wallets being thrown in all directions….But we eventually got out of that bloody place and got to the port the same day. [Dad: Will had a very bad navigating day that day - worse than the others! At one point he pointed up two or three road levels above us in a cloverleaf type junction of toll roads and told me we should be up there!]

[Dad: as you may imagine we have seen the insides of bad and a very few, good hotels. We got to Hotel Putra in Kebumen, central Java, and soon after we had shifted our stuff in Will assessed this as the best yet. In the morning we came out at 6am for breakfast only to find ours, as well as the other cars parked in front, had been washed! Asking for an explanation the smiling attendants uttered one word: “servis”. We had no difficulty in understanding the meaning. Room and excellent hot breakfast cost just over AUD13.]

The rain has been fairly consistent recently. Nearly every afternoon these huge black clouds form and rain comes pissing down for a good hour. Most of the locals don’t seem to mind and continue riding their scooters in the wet. [Dad: on the day we drove into Medan the huge storm brought trees down across sections of the road as well as flooded roads.]

We are now in Medan sorting out stuff for the next leg. We met the shipping agent ‘Infinity’ and Charlie yesterday. They were very genuine and more than helpful. We are going to try get the car serviced here. We went to a huge mesjid (mosque Raya) today. The building was amazing but dad was getting hassled for money in the middle of it…There are a fair few tourists in Medan. This morning Dad was talking to an English chick that had been through China.

I am currently sitting in the hotel room listening to the blaring call to prayer from the mosque right next to the hotel. It sounds kinda cool but feels a bit invasive. But I am a guest in their country…

Photos: intense green rice paddies were everywhere; strange vehicles (Q: junk heap on wheels, or someone’s motor home? A: the latter!) and one of many market towns thronging with unconcerned locals spilling over the road lined with colourful stalls.

MR POTS & PANS

FLORES

We left Kupang for Flores with some regret. We enjoyed the easy accommodation at Hotel Maliana (for about AUD20 we got our room (no shower of course but a bucket of cold water each morning makes for a good start to the day), breaky and, would you believe, afternoon tea!), the relaxed bar at Lavalon (reliable information, food, close to the water and an ever changing mix of travellers and backpackers), and of course the night market where for a dollar a good meal (course) is had from one of the myriad street food stalls cooking fish and chicken on micro BBQs (they close the street to the mad traffic each night). Of course for Will he enjoyed the company of Terry and John (cycling to Bangkok, and motor biking from UK to AUS, respectively). Will’s hire bike took some starting - the photo shows the boys trying to work it out (you had to put the stand up before starting it!).

A rusting ASDP ferry to Flores (15 hours) was our first taste of life on an Indonesian ferry. Typically, a couple or three cars squeezed amid the trucks and many motor bikes. Seeing the “lifeboat” canoe and easy to get to life jackets (see picture) brought back all the horror stories of terrible loss of life on storm hit Indonesian ferries (the sky and sea and all it potentially brought with it, was suddenly of great interest…)

People “slept” everywhere - all around the vehicles (including ours), on tops of trucks, on every horizontal surface, but mostly on sleeping platforms (in effect huge bunks), with about 15 or so people per bunk level. At least we could lie down with the rest of humanity, and listen to the phones playing tinny sounds of various sorts and portable music blasters blaring till after 1 or 2am (and then re-starting at 4am to welcome in the new day). Was that sleep I had or nightmare?

And so onto Flores - a week of hairpin bends and blind corners on very steep mountain roads soon brought home the reality of our journey. We seemed to follow Mr Pots and Pans for ever but he was far from alone in the outrageous loads competition. There were some highlights such as locals fishing just off deserted beaches (A canoe was frantically paddled in a small arc while dragging a net. Once the net was set, the fishermen hopped into the shallow water to frantically splash and dive to collect their catch before it got away), and of course the magical volcanic craters of Kelimutu and their lakes. While the colours (apparently) change, we saw a vivid turquoise with strings of yellow. With clouds boiling about, and few others bothering in the late afternoon, we had the crags and eroding crater rim almost to ourselves. I should (probably needlessly) add that Will was not content to join me in the car to drive here, but had to hire a motor bike for the ride to Kelimutu.

SUMBAWA & BEYOND

And so it continues…We landed in Sumbawa to be met by donkey drawn carts which add to the other forms of transport trying to use the roads and in the towns of Sumbawa and Lombok. These are like taxis and mainly used by locals (not tourists - there are few of these or “normal” taxis here).

We were also met by the Princess of Bad Roads (I think I owe an apology to some author for that). And she was so bad at times we laughed. We did a lot of laughing, as we tried this way and that, this speed and that in a sort of loose dance with others trying to do the same, only to be met by huge potholes within the broken up surface (“Dad, you got every one of those” was Will‘s accurate but unwelcome assessment of a particularly bad set of ‘holes.)

The hotels come and go, always for a one night stand. Cold water is the norm, non-operating toilet cisterns and showers now the reality. We welcome the mandi (imagine a large trough about the size of a washing machine), to ladle water from for daily necessities like flushing toilets and showering. Mainly a fan but for a few tens of thousands more (don’t forget about Rp 7,500 is got for a dollar), we welcome air. I don’t suppose one can really complain - rooms with all the ‘cons above come for around AUD10 and 20. And there is more - free wake up calls to prayer as early as 4.30am from the local mosque.

Now I have been abandoned - yes Will has banished me to my own hotel in Bali, while he and girlfriend Lauren while away the time surfing and ‘biking around Kuta for a few days. Oh well, such is life as Ned said (Will left me holding the baby (I mean car) in Kuta as he tried to find Lauren on the late afternoon of our arrival in Bali - some hours of traffic jams later totally lost in the dark, I thankfully find an (expensive) hotel). I have now shifted to more appropriate accommodation called Ned’s Hideaway on a gang (lane) in upmarket Seminyak (not bad for AUD15).

My first taste of Bali was horrible but as I settle in I can hardly ignore the delicate and colourful Hindu offerings underfoot with incense smoking wistfully away, or in unlikely niches in gate posts and walls, as well as in more formal settings. This daily practice seems at odds with the extraordinary commercialism just everywhere (at dinner last night three different spruikers walked in to try to sell to reluctant diners). This is Bali to a tee...

Will and I leave tomorrow for Java.