This JBR actually started life as an email to a friend and avid Indonesian traveller who made the mistake of asking ‘how was your holiday'? It has been adapted slightly to remove the names of friends and felons who may wish to remain anonymous.
Arrived in Bali to some beautiful weather and greetings, my travel buddy of many previous trips was already there and also another friend who I have got to know over the years, only ever meeting up in Bali, was there as well. I spent a few days just relaxing and catching up with everyone.
I have been to my friend's village several times in East Java, roughly an hour or two inland from the coast nearest Bali, and the plan was once again that I would head up there and spend some time with the family. My friend left a few days ahead of me and this time I was going to do the trip alone. My friend would try and meet me at the ferry terminal at Ketapang, Java, but in case he could not get there, he had written a note for me to show the bus driver where to let me off the bus on the main road nearest the village. I took the bus to Ketapang, no dramas and not crowded so I had 3 seats to myself until Michael from Surabaya decided to introduce himself and sit down for a 2 hour chat. Very pleasant person, but I was quite happy with my 3 seats to myself, still it made the time pass quicker and he kindly looked after my bag on the ferry while I waded about in the loo. My friend and a couple of others drove down from the village and met me at the ferry terminal, we then drove to see a couple of other friends who were also home from Bali. The timing was good being Lebaran so everyone in holiday mode and people visiting each other, an assortment of snacks beautifully laid out in each house to welcome guests.
Everyone in the village is well and mum of course working and cooking all the time. My friend made the most of mum's cooking, he was in heaven every meal, 2 or 3 plates full each time. We went to the early morning street markets a couple of times, up at 4 am and the street full of fresh produce and people everywhere. Shallots and chillies that we pay $20 a kilo for at home, huge sacks of them, kangkung - 3 bunches for 1,000rp and we pay $3 for a small bunch here, live chickens because no-one will buy dead ones due to bird flu, fresh fish and prawns, just mountains of fresh vegetables only picked the day before. Loaded up 2 motorbikes with all the bags and back home for mum to get busy in the kitchen.
My friend had seen pics of what we call a waterfall just outside of Perth, he just laughed and said when we go to Java I will show you a waterfall. Anyway, in the village, he, myself and a couple of his mates hop onto motorbikes and head off to show me what a waterfall looks like. Once out of the village we are on tracks that can only be negotiated at around 10kph and very bumpy with big divots washed out. Took over 2 hours to get there, but wonderful scenery along the way. You would think no-one would be that far out, and up the side of the mountain, but around the bend you find another village, complete with school, soccer field etc. The last stretch of pathway was so slippery and washed out that the bike kept slipping out from under us and mad scrambles to stay upright. Anyway, we finally arrive up to the point where you walk to the waterfall, middle of no-where, and of course there is a little bale and a man with his bakso cart, so hot soup and drinks for everyone.
Bakso man very kindly will look after the bikes and bags, and we head off into the jungle to start the walk down to the waterfall. I get to the edge and look down - big mistake. The path is 20cm wide, wet slippery mud, with rocks and holes, on the side of a cliff and the ravine down to the river is so deep I cannot see the bottom, fabulous scenery though. You need to creep along that path for 20 minutes just to get to the bottom, then along the river to the waterfall, and back up again. Oh God, I hate heights, get the heeby jeebies, dizzy - the full bit. Sorry guys I cannot go down that path - I would love to but I would have a heart attack and fall to my death. I tell them I will be fine, I will wait with Bakso man and you guys go ahead. My friend was fine about it and had his video camera so I could see it all on video later - my friend has bought himself a new video camera and he is such a tourist these days, got his video camera out everywhere. So anyway I chatted with Bakso man (those Indo lessons came in very useful this trip) and a surprising number of people were coming and going to see the waterfall, all locals enjoying the holidays. I said to Bakso man, many people come here, he says yes, yesterday about 200 people came! A group of young adults, all deaf, came along as well and one of them had a lovely 'chat' with me, in Indonesian with hand waving, bit of writing words in the dirt etc - but we managed to understand each other quite well. The people coming back up the track all puffing and panting, but could see the look on their faces when they saw a blonde haired aussie sitting there with a bowl of bakso, utter amazement. All very friendly, including a long haired muscle boy with tatts who immediately introduces himself and tells me he lives in Legian and gives surf lessons to tourists. Once he established that it was indeed my friends with the video camera he passed on the track he then gets out his phone and shows me a photo of his girlfriend from Perth, then a photo of his girlfriend in Melbourne, then Holland, Norway etc. Such a long way up a mountain, on little tracks, into the jungle - and I find a Kuta cowboy! The video of the waterfall is spectacular by the way, water dropping probably 100 feet or more onto huge boulders at the bottom, lovely pools of water to swim in, group of teenage boys grinding chillies on the rocks to have with their lunch, but my friend said lucky I did not climb down there, he is like a mountain goat and he slipped over twice.
My friend hired a car (friend of a friend - no hire car places over there) another day and we took his 16 year old nephew and his friend for a drive to G-Land (Plengkung) - the surf beach that the hard-core surfers all want to get to. Once again, the tracks are just rocks and holes and the last couple of hours, just slowly driving side to side avoiding the potholes and rocks. My friend has paid for his nephew to have driving lessons, and he gets him to drive for an hour or so on the back tracks - he did really well, quite the professional. I said to my friend if you took 2 16 year old boys out at home you would have killed them by lunchtime, but over there they just chat between themselves, do all the running about, nothing too much trouble, don't demand anything, arms around each other's shoulders, smiling for photos, an absolute pleasure to have with us. Had a bit of trouble with the car when we got to the main gate before you head into the last stretch of track 9 kilometres from G-Land. One of the men working there was a mechanic, he fixes the car, and no he won't accept any money, happy to help. I managed to lean over in the public squat loos, and plop my sunglasses fall into the swill on the floor. Stinking rancid, urine/water mixture on the floor. Stuff that, these sunnies are genuine Chanel, picked them up, washed them off and back on my face.
We get to G-Land and fabulous beach, the surf-camps look great, all set amongst the greenery and unobtrusive, did not get to see inside but look cute from outside. The surrounding bushland has wild pigs, saw a mama and about 12 little piglets all in a row, little monkeys, deer - all roaming around wild. Next to the shore it is all reef, with lovely pool areas where you can swim, the beach sort of lined with rocky outcrops where you can sit up top under the trees and take in the view. The big surf is probably 100 metres out, you see these surfers carting their boards out over the reef, then watch them ride the waves in the distance. Not the type of place to make a mistake out there, one false move and you would end up splattered against the reef. The view along the beach is wonderful, large curve of sand that disappears into the distance, behind that tall mountains through the haze. The boys all had a good swim in one of the holes in the reef, I relaxed under a tree up the top taking it all in. A group of young Indonesian men, all obviously having a wonderful time on holidays came along and say hello. Something about 'please can take a photo', so I say yes and go to grab their camera to take a photo of them all, No No, we want our photo with you! Why is it when I am looking my worst everyone wants to take my photo? Anyway, it was another fantastic day out, the 2 boys loved it as they had never been there before either.
We had another party in the bale on the side of the dirt track in the village. Bang-Bang on the huge wooden bell and the guys all start to appear down the tracks. This time not fish, but live chickens for the BBQ, under strict instructions to do the deed with the chickens away from my sight. Of course that meant they took the chooks a few feet away and chopped off their heads, defeathered and washed in the stream beside the bale. Once again men of all ages, many bottles of drink, BBQ cooked over coconut husks in the middle of the track, fresh sambal. The dear little old man, the sweetest face you have ever seen, god knows how old he is, maybe 70 or 80 could be more, wanders along in his sarong. The boys all yell out to him, 'come we have jamu' (jamu is like traditional herbal tonic/medicine to make you strong) - so he has a big swig of the scotch whisky, and his little face lights up and the biggest smile and ahhhh! He just delights me, settles in for more jamu and has a wonderful time. They have a little electric light in the bale, someone brings along a cd player, and one guy starts to bare live wires to hook up the cd player. My friend says don't worry he is electrician, and laughs. So now we have traditional music and the boys are half pizzled and a couple start dancing to the merriment of us all. They all had a wonderful time, and of course caught on video.
Got to meet more members of the extended family this time, all so friendly and welcoming and I am now registered in the local police office, so we can just renew that each time I go now.
My friend hired a truck and took everyone from the village to the big Hindu temple a couple of hours away for one of the special ceremonies. Of course he got video of that too, was great to watch it afterwards and they were all so happy to be able to go. Must have been 50 people all dressed in beautiful temple clothes all in the back of the truck, everyone had a good time.
One of the neighbours also drove me back to Ketapang and my friend organised my ticket on a nice bus, so was easy sailing for me back to Kuta. My friend was staying a few more days with the family and we would catch up again in Bali later in the week. Once again, friendly male fellow passenger kept me entertained with chit-chat, but at least he was just across the aisle so I could still spread out. Mum had done up a huge parcel of snacks for me to eat on the bus, could have fed the whole bus and then some with it all. She makes everything by hand, once you have tasted her food you don't want to eat the shop bought stuff ever again. She cooks everything in a traditional kitchen, my friend bought her a gas cook top years ago, and it still sits there like brand new, she prefers the wood fire on the floor. Her knives are all so thin, razor sharp and the middle section curved out to half the original thickness, how many years of chopping and slicing those knives must have seen. You should have seen the stuff my friend brought back for me, at least 3kg of home made sambal, krupuk, fried onion and garlic, grown in the village, sliced paper thin with a knife, fried in oil, bottled etc. Declared it all at customs and no problems.
Got back to Bali and once again hang out with the girls and other friends. Ate lots, did some girly stuff at the beauty parlours, out to a few places at night, sunbake - all the usual stuff. When my friend got back we went for a nice ride all around Nusa Dua and surrounds. Hadn't been there for years and enjoyed some time and swim at Geger Beach near the seaweed farms, wandered about and thoroughly enjoyed it. We stopped at a little warung just outside Nusa Dua heading towards Kuta. Little shack on the side of the road, bakso cart out front, the owner has the coconut shell BBQ along side, and some eskies with the freshest seafood I have seen in Bali. Would have to say that was my most memorable meal this trip. Had kerang (like big cockle shellfish) in the half shell with sambal/sauce, they were still alive when we chose them before cooking, whole fish, satay squid, stir fried kangkung, my mouth is drooling just remembering it - fabulous meal. Even the motorbike repair shop revving the bikes next door could not detract from it. Will have to organise a night next trip and take the group out there, much fresher and tastier than any restaurant seafood - can't wait!
I said to my friend in the email, by now you must well and truly regret posting that first question 'how was your holiday'. You have to forgive my rantings, gives me a chance to relive it all while I sit here in my dressing gown with my coffee. '