We knew that Jakarta would not have much to interest us. But because of the way Indonesia’s domestic flight schedules work, there was no great way to avoid it coming from Sumatra. We also needed to extend our visas so that we could stay longer than 30 days in the country, so we made the stop. Jakarta (President Barack Obama’s childhood home for four years – of which we were reminded of by many proud Jakartans as soon as they found out we are Americans) is a sprawling, busy, hot, and muggy metropolis. Elise and I unfortunately ended up in an un-air-conditioned hotel room that was infested with mosquitoes so it was definitely not a pleasant stay. Our first stop was a visit to the immigration office. The visa extension process is very new in Indonesia (previously not allowed) but word on the street was that it is very easy and that it might only take one day if you have all the necessary paperwork prepared: copies of passport, visa, and departure card, extra passport photos, proof of airfare to depart the country, and some cash. So armed with that stuff, we showed up to a typical government’s bureaucratic mess hoping for the best: to get our visa extensions in one day and get the heck out of Jakarta. Here was the process:
1. Go in building and get directed upstairs to 3rd floor.
2. Find first window (of approximately six windows total) and ask where to go.
3. Go to window #3.
4. Some guy checks to make sure we have all of the copies and documents we need. He then directs us back to window #1.
5. Window #1 directs us to window #2 where we are asked to buy a red folder (~$1.20) so that we have a place to put all of our papers and visa extension application form.
6. Fill out visa extension application form.
7. Go back to window #3 and give our file to the first guy. Note: the process to this point has taken about 10 minutes. We were then asked to take a seat and wait.
8. We did not know what was next and no one was there to explain anything, but we were cautiously optimistic that this was the most smoothly run government-created process that we had ever seen. It seemed promising that we might get this extension that day.
9. We were wrong. Our entire role for the next three hours was to sit in the waiting room and wait. Every once in a while we were called upon to become the Immigration Office’s personal office lacky and shuttle our red file from one side of the hall to the other as needed. We would be called, handed our red file, then told to take it to window # whatever-was-next in no obvious order.
10. Finally it appeared that everything was in order and we were asked to take a form and go downstairs to the cashier to pay the ~$28 per person required.
11. Upon payment we were then directed to go back upstairs and resubmit our file to the original guy at window #3. At this point, though we were frustrated, we still thought we would walk out with our stamped passports that day!
12. Wrong. We were informed that we had to come back the next day at 10am to pick up our passports then. Are they kidding!? What else was there to do other than put the stamp in the passport?
Despite the fact that we had to stay one more night in the mosquito-infested room and pay for an additional taxi fare to/from the immigration office, the fact that this only took two days actually was easy and fast compared to other countries (we had to wait five business days in Vietnam). After finally picking up our passports, we spent the day at the Indonesia Museum of Natural History, which was very nice and had many interesting exhibits (worth noting is the display of penis gourds used by tribes in Papua). We then boarded an overnight train to Yogyakarta.
Yogyakarta is a cultural destination in the center of Java that sits in the shadow of Mt. Merapi –one of Indonesia’s most active volcanoes, and the volcano that made international headlines last November when it erupted and forced the evacuation of large numbers of people. Nearby Yogyakarta is the impressive tenth century Borobudor Temple to which we visited for sunrise, requiring a painful 4am departure. Our experience at the temple was similar to our experiences at other tourist attractions in Indonesia – we’re stopped every 10 minutes to practice English with some high school or college students, which is then followed up by an extensive photo session. On the way back from the temple, we passed through an area that was undergoing clean-up and major excavation from all the ash and rock from the Merapi eruption in November. The level of ash that had fallen was pretty amazing, given how far away we were from the volcano – they were digging out a road that had been buried with at least 20 feet of debris.
Our challenge in Yogyakarta was that not only is it high season for international tourists, but the Indonesians were on summer holiday. Hotels and guesthouses were full, and it seemed like everyone and their mother was in Yogyakarta shopping for the holiday. We scored a simple but cramped room, bought some batik artwork, saw the sights, and planned to get ourselves out of the hustle and bustle after two nights. Our cultural experience was attending a shadow-puppet show. Maybe it was my western and Americanized sense of taste that does not allow me to appreciate such pieces of fine artistic talent, but the show didn’t do much for me. We have noticed that it seems that Asians like movies that have plenty of violence. If people are shooting, stabbing, maiming, wrecking, or exploding things or people, the movie will capture the attention of the general Asian population regardless of the quality of the plot. The shadow puppet show was not much different from what I could tell: puppets swinging swords, yelling, and cutting off each other’s heads to the tune of endless noise from the banging of bongo drums and xylophones. I blame Elise for getting us into that torturous hour and a half of the puppet show.
Our next dilemma was where to go next. We had our sights set on visiting Mt. Bromo, an impressive volcano in eastern Java. But our timing was not good as we would be arriving on a Friday night on the last weekend of the Indonesian holiday. So we made a stop in Malang to see what it was all about and kill a day so we would fight any crowds at Bromo. Turns out Malang is a very clean, nice university town full of trendy coffee shops and we enjoyed it.
Mt. Bromo is nothing but spectacular. It is actually several volcanoes within a gigantic one, the Tenggar cauldera, viewed from across a vast lunar-like landscape, and Bromo is in a constant state of eruption. The high elevation was a very nice change from the lowland heat and we very much enjoyed being under heavy blankets with cold nights. We arrived early afternoon and decided we would not waste any time to go on our first hike to climb Mt. Bromo itself. What neither Elise or I realized was that the volcano we could see that was currently erupting was Mt. Bromo (as opposed to the nearby dormant ones). Surely they wouldn’t let us climb it while it is erupting? Well, apparently the acceptance of risk by the local authorities or whoever is in charge differs vastly from that in our lawsuit-based society back home, because you can go right up to the edge and jump in the volcano if you really want to. Of course we enjoyed every minute of our first up-close encounter of an erupting volcano. With scarves shielding our faces from the blowing ash and volcanic dust (full of who-knows-what carcinogens or poisonous materials) we struggled up what was once a stairway now buried in several feet of ash to a destroyed viewing platform on the rim of the volcano and looked down into the volcanoes guts. We later found out that the wikitravel.org site for Mt. Bromo has the following warning posted: WARNING: Potential for further eruption of Tenggar caldera in the Mount Bromo volcano complex. It erupted fairly significantly a few months ago. Hmmm… The next morning, we woke up at 3am for a two hour hike to Mt. Penenjakan to see the sunrise over the whole surreal Tenggar cauldera landscape with Mt. Senaru (Java’s highest volcano) in the distance . Unbelievable. The pictures speak for themselves.
Our next destination was the Ijen Plateau. To avoid purchasing an overpriced tour of Ijen, we elected to find our way there on our own which was going to require several bus transfers. We found ourselves stranded in Bondowoso because there was no afternoon mini-bus to the next village, Sempol. There was another couple from the Czech Republic with us so we all checked into a hotel and planned to leave the next day. Teaming up with the Czech couple, we were able to book a private car through to Ijen that would allow us to hike to the viewpoints and then drop us off afterwards at the Bali ferry terminal, a nice convenience. This meant another 3am wake-up, but there would be some nice scenery waiting. The Ijen attraction is more than the scenery though. The draw is also viewing a sulfur mine – located in the volcanic crater at the edge of a turquoise lake that warms and bubbles with an increase in volcanic activity - and watching the miners carry large loads of sulfur down the mountain. The miners go about carrying their absurdly large loads (80kg up to 100kg) on bamboo-wicker baskets balanced precariously on their shoulders, some walking barefoot. If you want to take a picture of them they ask for money or cigarettes in return. Honestly, while I was impressed with the strength required and the hard work these 400 miners go through every day, it was somewhat disturbing that in this day and age that people are subjecting themselves or forced to subject themselves to that sort of torture – not to mention the health and safety problems associated with carrying heavy loads and breathing sulfur fumes. There could have easily been a train of horses or mules that carry the loads and even a simple cable-car to haul sulfur up out of the crater. It seemed to me that at least part of the reason this is still going on is because of the tourist draw. It felt sort of like a human zoo. I also had a conversation with one of the locals and apparently these guys make about 100,000 rupiah per day ($12) if they carry two 80kg (176 lb.) loads. That is a lot more than any other income opportunity out there available to them (farming, selling goods at the market) so it keeps going on. While it doesn’t seem right, these guys need the job and income so it was an interesting economical dilemma that hit home while watching it. Of course, the scenery here was also amazing and Indonesia continues to awe us with its natural beauty.
The rest of the day after Ijen was spent crossing the Bali Straight by ferry, leaving Java and arriving on the island of Bali. Since Bali is the international tourist destination in Indonesia and a great place for us to come back to on a shorter vacation, we are not spending much time there this trip – our time is limited and there is so much else we want to see before we have to leave the country. We spent the night in Dempasar and jumped on a bus the next morning for another ferry terminal heading farther east, a four-hour ferry ride across the Bali Sea to the island of Lombok. At this point after the bureaucracy in Jakarta, the holiday crowds in Yogyakarta, the time-consuming travel required to visit Mt. Bromo and Ijen, the early morning sunrise activities, and the long ferry crossings and bus travel, we were getting tired. Time for several days on a good beach. We have spent four days on Kuta Beach on the southern end of Lombok and it has been another paradise. Perfect weather, white sand, turquoise water. Pantai Segar and Tanjung Aan beaches near Kuta in our opinion rank on par with “The Perfect Beach” in Burma we wrote about earlier in our blog. There are surf breaks everywhere - assuming you know how to surf and find the good conditions - and we could probably spend a month just on Lombok. We still cannot believe that we took one year off and we still are pressed and have to prioritize our time!! We toyed with the idea of just staying put on Lombok for our last two weeks in Indonesia, but rumor has it that the island of Flores has a kind of beauty that we haven’t seen even yet. So Lombok and learning to surf will have to wait. On to Flores via an island-hopping 29-hour bus/ferry/bus/ferry ride. Also nearby: Komodo and Rinca islands, home to the Komodo dragons. That’s what’s next.
The rest of the day after Ijen was spent crossing the Bali Straight by ferry, leaving Java and arriving on the island of Bali. Since Bali is the international tourist destination in Indonesia and a great place for us to come back to on a shorter vacation, we are not spending much time there this trip – our time is limited and there is so much else we want to see before we have to leave the country. We spent the night in Dempasar and jumped on a bus the next morning for another ferry terminal heading farther east, a four-hour ferry ride across the Bali Sea to the island of Lombok. At this point after the bureaucracy in Jakarta, the holiday crowds in Yogyakarta, the time-consuming travel required to visit Mt. Bromo and Ijen, the early morning sunrise activities, and the long ferry crossings and bus travel, we were getting tired. Time for several days on a good beach. We have spent four days on Kuta Beach on the southern end of Lombok and it has been another paradise. Perfect weather, white sand, turquoise water. Pantai Segar and Tanjung Aan beaches near Kuta in our opinion rank on par with “The Perfect Beach” in Burma we wrote about earlier in our blog. There are surf breaks everywhere - assuming you know how to surf and find the good conditions - and we could probably spend a month just on Lombok. We still cannot believe that we took one year off and we still are pressed and have to prioritize our time!! We toyed with the idea of just staying put on Lombok for our last two weeks in Indonesia, but rumor has it that the island of Flores has a kind of beauty that we haven’t seen even yet. So Lombok and learning to surf will have to wait. On to Flores via an island-hopping 29-hour bus/ferry/bus/ferry ride. Also nearby: Komodo and Rinca islands, home to the Komodo dragons. That’s what’s next.
We’re doing well and are healthy…and the travel “gas tank” is still plenty full.
