On The Road Again - Part 2

Java

Traffic jam- leaving the Tollroad at Bogor

Timber mill, Bogor

Road-workers are the same everywhere!

After arriving in Jakarta we quickly availed ourselves of a very expensive taxi and headed south along the tollway towards Cimaja. The traffic at this time of the afternoon was not yet intense, despite it being Friday, so the trip to Bogor (approximately the halfway point between Jakarta and Cimaja) was relatively painless. However, it never serves you well to become complacent. As four lanes converged into one, the traffic ground to a standstill. After an hour and a half of snail crawling for the next kilometre we found the hindrance to be a broken down cement truck.



Once past the truck the traffic was now in weekend mode and congested for the remainder of the journey. A single lane each way winds along the mountain ridges and down into the valleys towards the south of the island. The road greets the Indian Ocean in Pelabuhan Ratu, a fishing village, local business hub and regional capital. Once reached, it is comfortable to know that although we are not there yet, Cimaja is only another fifteen minutes away. 

Cimaja looking east towards Pelabuhan Ratu.

Cimaja.

Cimaja near 'Indicators'.

Rice Paddies - Cimaja.

Fishing platform common in Pelabuhan region.

Love this photo! Could be anywhere but was taken in village of Cimaja.

Approaching Cimaja we had our fingers crossed that we would be able to get a room at our chosen accommodation. The Quiksilver West Java Pro was in full swing and the village was bursting at the seams. Fortunately for us, but not so for the young lady concerned, one of the young female competitors got knocked out of the competition early and had returned home. The room had been saved for us.

‘Nurda’s at Cimajapoint’, our choice of accommodation, consists of three rooms on the ground floor and a large dormitory upstairs in the original family home of Nurda and Evan. This year we lodged in the back room. We didn’t have the beautiful views across the lawn to the ocean that we had last time but we did have our own little private courtyard surrounded by tropical gardens. There is also ‘the honeymoon suite’, Nadia’s  room in the loft of the new family home and restaurant. This beautiful room with stunning views is available when Nadia is away from home. Nowadays, Nadia (the daughter) often is away as she has scored herself a job with Billabong in Bali. Bordered on one side by rice farms and the other by a small river then banana and vegetable plots Nurda’s place is on an enormous block of land that leads through gardens and across lawn down to the beach. The guesthouse and workshed are up the back and the new family home with restaurant underneath is positioned closer to the water and creek. Monkeys, ducks, chooks, dogs turtles, carp and Chocolate the goat, complete the menagerie at Nurda’s

Nurda and her mother man the kitchen and cook the best food in Cimaja if not all of Java! The menu has a great range of Thai, surfer staples and Indonesian food. The only downside – it is not a good destination if weight loss is of primary concern. All the meals are delicious and all meals are super-sized for hungry surfers!! The waitress with the mostest, and a gifted singing voice to match, is the beautiful young Isha.

Our accommodation left, the workshed on the right.

Neil outside our room, out the back.

Our courtyard.

From our courtyard. Restaurant entry through the trees.

From the back of the property looking down through the gardens to the ocean.

Pretty flower in the garden.



Who would have thought - a Hillshoist in Cimaja!. The only one in Indonesia?

One of the quackers.

A very sad Rosco.

Mama, Astro (the naughty boy) and baby.

Juno, our security guard, and moi.

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Vegetable farm near the surf break.


Our walk along the river to the beach. Our accommodation was just on the other side of the small river. A local style fishing net in the water.

 We watched the final two days of the West Java Pro and I practiced my photography skills on the young Indonesian stars of the ocean. The surf photographer pros probably do not have a lot to worry about my presence on the scene, but I am improving and my new travelling camera is a little beauty, despite me trying to drown it in Sumbawa (well.... I wasn’t trying. A freak set came out of no-where and the third wave drenched me despite the fact that I was not on the beach but up on the bank. I was devastated but everything now seems to be OK with the camera – touch wood).

Our regular walk to the beach - during the surf contest.

Gerry, a local contestant.

Another contestant.

And the winner is .........


.............. Lee Wilson

The professionals at work. I had no-one holding an  umbrella for me!

Once the surf contest was over the contestants gradually left and village life returned to its normal pace. With less people out in the water, Neil donned the boardies and sunscreen and hit the water. Entry and exit from the surf at Cimaja can be a little tricky as the beach is not of the golden sand variety but huge boulders that roll backwards and forwards with the surge of the waves. The locals are fleet of foot and extremely nimble as they skip across the often slippery boulders. Bules and older surf god types tend to be a little more hesitant when approaching the water’s edge from either direction and squashed tootsies and multiple foot cuts and abrasions are often all part of the total Cimaja surf experience. But regardless of the downfalls, Neil’s enjoyment of the Cimaja waves most likely scored a 9 out of 10.

Neil negotiating his entry into the surf.

Neil in action!

Playing in the surf, Cimaja style.

Sandcastles, Cimaja style. Watch the toes!

Look dad!


Dinner's organised. Time for a surf.

On our final night, after partaking in our last supper, Neil and I ventured to the Desa to enjoy the vocal talents of Isha and Nurda supported by a highly enjoyable local band. It was a wonderful way to end our stay, an evening with our friends and neighbours in Cimaja.



At the Desa, looking down on the band. Isha singing.

Isha in full rock mode!

Isha.

Nurda and Isha.

On July 1^st we headed off on our journey, homeward bound. Although this step had not been originally intended we decided to return home briefly to catch up with our family, dump the boards and attend to some personal matters before continuing to India. We splurged out on our final night in Indonesia with a flash room in the FM7 resort handy to Jakarta airport.



Our room at the FM7 Airport Resort.

Classy!

Lamp Art.

The restaurant.

As it turned out, it was lucky that we were well rested before the circus (Jakarta Air Asia Terminal) the next day. Neil and I still don’t really know what went on that day. We do know that our plane was delayed many times, that we were rescheduled onto a much later flight, spent twelve and a half hours twiddling our thumbs and drinking lots of coffee and finally arrived in KL at 1:30 in the morning instead of 2:30 the previous afternoon!!!!!!! Once there we and our fellow delayed passengers had a brief panic moment when none of our luggage was on the same flight as us. Fortunately, at that time in the morning it is easy to spot lost and forlorn luggage sitting unwanted in the middle of a large open space. All of our luggage managed to arrive on the much delayed original flight. Pity we hadn’t – we would have been reunited much earlier. I still wonder if there were any passengers on that flight or just the baggage of all the passengers they rescheduled onto three other flights!

Of course the best remedies for such a tiring experience is a bit of retail therapy and a feast of culinary delights. So ......  wasn’t it lucky that our final two days, before our flight home, were in KL where both of those can be achieved!

Outside the Pavilion Shopping Mall. 

The fountain changing colours.

KLCC to Bukit Bintang walkway. - about 2 klms long and airconditioned all the way.

Waiting for the lights to change on Bukit Bintang. The monorail above.

Check the shorts!

On the road again. On our own again!

First stop, Sumbawa.

The flight was delayed an hour but we were on our way soon enough.  Six bules on the flight, all of us seated at the tail end of the plane. 

The runway at Bima airport is flanked on both sides by fish farms and mud flats. Looking down from a height the narrow strip of tar down the middle does not seem wide enough to land planes, even small ones such as ours. However, we landed safely and quickly found ourselves in the midst of the mayhem of the small arrival terminal. No such thing as a baggage carousel, just a small hole in the wall through which all baggage is passed onto a very short conveyor belt. Our baggage claim tickets were immediately released from my grasp as I was firmly assured by a smiling porter that he had everything under control. With the porters jostling for position along the conveyor there certainly was little room for the passengers to get a look in.  So, with matters out of our control temporarily, we took our passports into an office where an official marked down our presence on their island. I left Neil in charge while I checked out the plumbing and in my absence he was given the ‘Do you know Schapelle Corby lecture’ – he must have looked dodgy. Back outside the office the porter had things semi under control – he had the surfboards (there were only three board bags on the plane so that was a relatively easy task) and two black bags ready to haul off to our, as yet, invisible driver. “No, we only had one black bag and neither of those are it.” No problems, ours was soon found and once again disappeared out of our sight as the porter whisked bag and surfboards out the door into the waiting throngs. You’ve got to be quick! All appeared to be chaos but we were soon rounded up and escorted to our pre-arranged driver, the baggage already loaded into the car.

Rice fields between Bima and the mountains.

Salt farming.

Salt farming. Fell in love with the little windmills!

The trip from Bima to Hu’u and Lakey Peak is a pretty one. The road passes the fishing farms, salt flats and paddy fields before winding up into the mountains. Dompu afforded us a short break while our driver did a quick grocery shop and we local watched as they got on with their daily business. After Dompu the reasonable road deteriorated greatly as we headed towards our destination. It was under repair but apparently needs to get a lot worse before it gets better. Motor bikes had a better go of it as they could go around the ditches. Not us! We bumped down into them and rolled back up. But there is always someone worse off than yourself. We had just commenced the horror stretch when we rounded a bend and, low and behold, two bules on heavily ladened pushbikes were pumping the pedals in a massive struggle to master the conditions.

Heading home from school.

Strand Bags Subawa style.

Smoko in Dompu.

Chooks for sale - Dompu.

Looking up into the bay from Hu'u.

The Bay from Hu'u

The Bay from Hu'u

At the Aman Gati we had a semi-detached bungalow that overlooked a central grassed area and once upon a time (two years ago) looked out to sea - but not anymore. Two storeys of eight luxury rooms now blocked the view. Our room, however, was relatively private, comfortable and had a working hot shower – just as well as ‘I’ had neglected to pack the leatherman. During our previous stay at the Aman Gati the Flick Mixer tap handle broke off and, after multiple attempts to have it fixed, decided that the pliers component would do an adequate job of turning on the water.

Our room at the Aman Gati. There's a bear in there!

Accommodation at Aman Gati.

Front gardens at Aman Gati - Neil heading to the shower.

A bit of middle eastern music and getting into the groove!

Local kids frolicking in our pool.

The shoreline between Nunga’s and Pipe, two of the surf breaks, has perhaps a one kilometre strip of surfer accommodation, restaurants, warungs and small stalls.  After sampling the wares at all the eateries along the stretch we opted to lunch at ‘ The Lakey Beach Inn’ and dine at ‘Pumas’. Pumas scored the top rating on this trip. The menu was extensive, varied and delicious. The other bonus of eating at Pumas was that you got to eat the same night that you ordered. Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but, the other eating spots were very, very slow.

The break after which the area is named, Lakey Peak is directly out the front. Neil’s preferred break was Periscopes, a three kilometre, beautiful walk away. However, Nungas, is where Neil had the best surf of the trip. 



The Peak.

Along the beachfront.

Pumas, No 1 for tucker!

Looking back along Lakey Beach.



Sunset looking across the bay.

Looking back to Lakey Peak from Periscopes.

Nungas.

Nungas.

Nungas firing!

Seaweed gathering.

Seaweed gathering.



Heading to Periscopes.

The Boss!

On the walk back from Periscopes.


Pioneer of style attempting a massive air! Awesome!!!

At the end of our stay it was another flight back to Bali for an over-nighter then on to Jakarta.



Drawing Long Bows, Surf Gods and “Big Waves”

(Our month with Daz and Stuart)

My apologies to all those who find the title confusing. I’m sorry, you had to be there. This entry is dedicated to Daz and Stuart in memory of our journeys together to beautiful locations, our wide ranging conversations and witty repartee.

Our arrival in Bali was a late one followed by a quick taxi ride to Sanur and hearty greetings from our travelling companions at our accommodation. They had arrived earlier that day, dined at the local night markets and were relaxing on their balcony near the pool when we arrived.

After a brief one day stay in Sanur to acquire life’s essentials (Sim cards, Indo money, toiletries, nibblies etc.) we boated across to Nusa Lembongan. Kristy and the wonderful staff at Linda’s were ready to rescue us from the tender that brought us to shore and escort us to our rooms. Our upstairs room had a wonderful view of the beach and stairs leading to it that ensured I stayed fit during our stay. If you desire luscious legs I can highly recommend steep stairs with big steps for the job. At the end of a week, negotiating those stairs at least six to ten times daily, my legs felt like jelly and were happy to be moving on.

What can I say about Nusa Lembongan? Picture beautiful weather (not too hot, not humid at all), comfortable accommodation, a swimming spot for me straight out in front and ‘Shipwrecks’ surf break just a short boat ride or healthy paddle away for the boys, delicious food at our own restaurant or at many other restaurants along the beach, pleasant sand and village strolls, great snorkelling spots and best of all, great company – what would you say? Could I be so bold to call it a small island paradise?

During our stay there we met and enjoyed the companionship of a young Swedish couple, Sven and Josipa. They joined us for many of our meals, our snorkelling excursion to Nusa Penida and helped us celebrate Stuart’s 55^th. Friendships forged along the road are one of the greatest benefits of travel.

Another ferry ride returned us to the island of Bali for an overnight stay before flying to Kupang in West Timor. Kupang is not and never will be a holiday destination but as an overnight stopover it is a lively, friendly town (the wild, wild west). Strolling down the main drag late Sunday afternoon we proved to be a bit of light entertainment for the locals who resemble Papua New Guineans more than Indonesians and for whom bules (Westerners) present bit of an oddity. We had visions of walking to the night market but after venturing perhaps four kilometres we decided to buy some fruit from a nearby stall, catch a bemo back to our hotel and dine there.

Bemos (a mini bus of sorts) are the local form of transport throughout much of Asia. West Timor bemos are in a class of their own. They have to be the jazziest! Each bemo is heavily decorated both outside and in. They all sport large boom-box speakers under the back seats and disco lighting to enhance the ambience and give a psychedelic effect at night. Their horns are of the echoing variety. A ride in one of these little beauties wakens the senses with their cacophony of sounds and the vibrant visuals – a treat not to be missed and all for the princely sum of twenty cents.

As we were luckily forewarned that the Kupang/Rote ferry had not run for three days, the following morning we breakfasted early and headed for the ferry terminal. Yes it was running and yes it was filling up quickly. Darrel and Stuart who were behind us in the line got the last tickets before the ticket office shut its sales windows. The locals with their local knowledge were continually jumping the queue which had made it a little difficult to ever get to the front of the line – we quickly learnt to stand our ground or miss out. We ended right up the front of the bottom passenger deck which also meant that were amongst the last off the boat with our gear and almost missed our lift from Baa to Nemberala. Mus, who was taking us with him, had also been on the boat, hadn’t seen us on board, waited half an hour, decided we had missed the ferry and headed for home. Thankfully our phone had reception in that one and only place on Rote and he returned to collect us.

Mus’ family are the owners of Anugerah Homestay, room and full board for $45 a night, our accommodation - two of the front local style bungalows with attached outside mandis (bathrooms). Anugerah’s is right on the beach, a short stroll from the water’ edge, the hardware shop, which stocks all your daily needs, and Nemberala Beach Resort, the perfect location for  sunset drinks. Communal meals are served in a large lounge/dining room, the ice boxes are refreshed regularly with bintangs and ice-creams, the idiot box is available for the DVD of your choice, aerial ping-pong or reruns of McCleods Daughters and, most importantly, the staff/family are happy, friendly and helpful – everything you could possibly need for a relaxing fortnight.

Although the Rote is a low key surfing destination the local life of the twin villages of Nemberala and Sedoe continues on basically unaffected by the presence of bules, with very little accompanying tourism. This area of Indonesia is away from the well beaten tourist route and hopefully will remain that way. The island is an idyllic location, postcard perfect, peaceful and inviting (definitely up there in my top 10 favourite places).  The beaches are possibly the cleanest in Indonesia yet to be cursed by the scourge of Asia, plastic and Styrofoam rubbish. The pleasant pace of village life revolves around the local industries of seaweed farming, fishing, small scale market gardening, lontar palm cultivation and ikat weaving. The lontar palm is believed to be the nectar of the gods and the foundation of good health.

The island, like a small handful of others in the Indonesian archipelago, is mostly Christian. The Nemberala church celebrates its birthday with an annual month long gala event of daily football and volleyball matches to entertain the masses. It is a highly anticipated event with competitors and their audiences travelling from most, if not all, of the island’s villages and neighbouring small islands to participate in the celebrations.

The boys scored waves for the first week but unfortunately the swell dropped during the second. We filled our days with walking, reading, eating, sleeping, playing UNO, swimming, babbling on and generally having a relaxing time of it. Daz explored the surrounding highways and byways on his hired motor bike but Stuart, Neil and I kept our feet firmly planted on the ground.

At the end on the fortnight we had the reverse trip with another over-night stay in Kupang. This time round we found the night markets with bemo trips to and from. We successfully negotiated four cumi-cumi (squid) meals but had a slight communication problem when it came to ordering prawns. We thought we had asked for two grilled king prawns each and were just a little surprised when we were served two plates of chilli prawns each. Must have thought us to be very greedy or hungry bules! Chalk that one up to experience. Some of the locals got a tasty free meal.  Ours was washed down with delicious avocado juices. These truly are a taste sensation – chocolate syrup drizzled round the inside of the glass then filled with icy avocado juice – can’t be beat!!

Our return stay in Bali was a brief one. We had a day and a half to restock some necessities, enjoy some fine meals and relax around the pool with Daz and Stuart before we parted company on 31^st May. Neil and I flew on to Sumbawa and Daz and Stuart filled their final day with a sightseeing tour to Mount Agung and other destinations before returning to Australia the next day.

 

Thank you Daz and Stuart for your company. It was a memorable month.