Our trip has taken us half way around the World, and back. We made a few turns along the way that took us in a different direction to our plan, but then plans are for changing. 41,136 kilometres and nearly 6 weeks on the road, we arrived back in Melbourne on a chilly Monday evening, and, in the spirit of our intention, caught the bus from the airport to the city, the train to Lilydale, the bus to Seville, and Shanks’ Pony up Bell Street to a warm welcome, a warm home, and a hot meal.
It’s nice to be home… a good chance to do all our favorite pursuits, like mow the lawn, clear the gutters, wash the car… and of course get back on the golf course.
In near 6 weeks we have seen more than many people will see in a lifetime, and feel blessed for the opportunity we have experienced. Thanks to Mum for making this trip possible, and holding the fort in our absence.
To all the avid followers of our trivial pursuit, ‘Thank You’ for your comments, ideas, suggestions, observations, and spam. We have lots of stories to share with all of you when we next meet up.
The bus from Amalfi to Sorrento twists and winds its way through streets hardly wide enough for a wheelbarrow. Interesting, that is the only word I can think of that starts and ends in ‘w’. Anyway, the scenery is a spectacle, and the bus driver ensures the trip is as exciting as BASE jumping without a parachute. The 2 hour ride is only €5 and the best value excitement to be had in Italy, if not Europe.
The rattling hard seat Circumvesuvio delivers us back to Garibaldi Stazione in Napoli, and Trenitalia delivers us back to Termini in Roma.
A different hotel tonight. The Archimede Hotel, describes itself as a 4 star, but fails miserably to prove its case. WiFi in the lobby only, a breakfast that makes you want to order takeaway, poor aircon, unfriendly staff and more. We weren’t alone… The bevy of Russian girls down the corridor were equally as disappointed as we were.
We first saw the Russians eating in the Trattoria around the corner earlier tonight, and as we walked past an old local sitting and watching looked up at us with a wry smile and said “I should have learned Russian”.
Tomorrow is our last full day in Italy and what better pursuit could you want for than a Vatican tour. We have the time, we have the money, but the question is… do we have the will?
First you get down on your knees,
Fiddle with your rosaries,
Bow your head with great respect,
And genuflect, genuflect, genuflect!
Do whatever steps you want, if
You have cleared them with the Pontiff.
Everybody say his own
Kyrie eleison,
Doin’ the Vatican Rag.
Get in line in that processional,
Step into that small confessional,
There, the guy who’s got religion’ll
Tell you if your sin’s original.
If it is, try playing it safer,
Drink the wine and chew the wafer,
Two, four, six, eight,
Time to transubstantiate!
So get down upon your knees,
Fiddle with your rosaries,
Bow your head with great respect,
And genuflect, genuflect, genuflect!
Make a cross on your abdomen,
When in Rome do like a Roman,
Ave Maria,
Gee it’s good to see ya,
Gettin’ ecstatic an’
Sorta dramatic an’
Doin’ the Vatican Rag!
There is so much to say about the purpose, values and effect of the Catholic Church. The phenomenonal wealth, the outdated dogma, the use of guilt and fear to secure control of followers, George Pell, widespread abuse of children and women… the list goes on and on.
Do we really need this anymore? Do we really believe the churches rules and regulations? Is this a club we can really afford to support any longer? Is it not just another example of rich and power hungry men exercising control over the poorest nations?
The Philippines is 97% Roman Catholic. That’s about 68 million Catholics, most of whom are as poor as a church mouse. They have nothing but the faith in their hearts. East Timorese, devoutly Catholic, but one of the poorest nations on earth. Tell me we got this right?
Having said that, today we spent the afternoon shuffling through the corridors, halls, galleries, and chapels of the richest country on Earth. The art collection is daunting, and the number of spectators is the same. The highlight of the shuffle being the Sistine Chapel failed to meet expectation, despite the fact that it is probably the most remarkable artistic undertaking in history. Sadly the time is just not available to sit and ponder this massive work.
Hot, tired and hungry, like the majority of the worlds Catholics, we headed straight to the nearest Trattorria for lunch and a cold drink.
Metro back to our hotel at Termini for a wash and rest, and then a light dinner around the corner… our last meal in Rome.
In the morning our adventure reaches a conclusion. Flying to Singapore then on to Melbourne to be with Mum, Tiger and Oscar.
A visit to the Amalfi coast is incomplete without a stop on the Isle de Capri. Surrounded by sheer rock faces and azure waters, the rocky outcrop is a stunning image as you approach. The ferry trip from Amalfi takes about an hour or so, and for the first time in weeks we seem to have shaken off the hoards.
An obligatory circuit of the island, stopping at the Azzura Grotto for a brief row boat trip into the cave. Very brief sadly. It is in any event a spectacular sight. A shade of blue like none other, clear water, and a rowing opera singer who should focus more on his day job. The launch continues on its lap of the island through some quite spectacular rock arches, and returns to port.
The town of Capri is set on the hilltop over looking the marina, is reached by the funiculare railway, and is the shopping place of the wealthy. Even a Red Bull is double the price up here. Nevertheless the view is stunning.
The trip back to Amalfi via Positano is a sleepy journey, followed by dinner and an evening of watching fishing boats far down below us desperately hauling in enough fish to feed the hoards tomorrow.
Departing Rome after a morning of Papal perving, we caught the 4.30 fast train down to Napoli, 2 hours of rather ordinary countryside, especially around Napoli.
Napoli is not a highlight on the tourist trail. The only city in Italy with a significant number of high rise buildings, unattractive sprawling suburbs, and a over supply of McDonalds. No reason to stop here so it’s onto the rattling Napoli rail network, Circumvesuvio, for the hour run down to Sorrento.
Arriving in Sorrento around 8, we realised that the 19 million tourists had followed us to the Amalfi coast… AND, they had brought friends! Given that they had arrived just before we did, they had left only one room in the entire town for us to rent… And they all stood there pointing at us while we tried to find it!
We did eventually locate the last room in town, a downstairs windowless concrete box. Of course, poor aircon, no English TV, and a double bed.
Late dinner and a stroll around town followed by a late night web search for new digs down the coast.
The next morning, Wednesday, and the bus trip down to Amalfi is a highlight of the Italian leg of the tour. Hairpins, near misses, narrow roads and of course a stunning view of the Amalfi Coast. Our home in Amalfi is the Hotel Dorio Amalfi, 4 k up the hill and the view is magnificent.
The Ventian hoards have shifted south on their stampeding European pilgrimage, and firmly sandwiched in the crowd, we have followed. On to Rome and in one action packed day we get an early Very Fast Train arriving at Rome Termini just after 10am. The Hotel Marghera has a good room with a massive TV for only €100, but still the only English Channel is CNN??? Without wasting a minute we take the Metro 2 stops to Colosseo and join a €30 tour in order to beat the 2 hour queue. The guide takes us into and around the 50,000 seat stadium and on to the Palatino for a detailed history of the City of Rome.
Skulduggery, intrigue, and poor diet resulted in the fall of the Roman Empire… just ask any Italian chef.
The food got a lot better after WWII, and tonight’s meal was no exception. Without any doubt, Italians in Italy do it better than anywhere else.
After lunch the older of the two of us suddenly realised he had left his spectacles in the trattoria after lunch. On arriving back there and explaining to the waitress what had happened and hoping desperately that they had been found, it was pointed out that they were perched ‘en crowne’… getting old!
Tomorrow the Roman escapade continues with the Trevi Fountain and a couple of ruins, then on to the Amalfi coast, Capri, and Pompeii.
We are closing in on our final destination the United Arab Emirates, heading a little further south each week since arriving in Europe.
Laundry in Firenze is risky business. Clean clothes is a great feeling, but getting your bag pinched, sadly, not that good. Quick as a flash. Tomorrow off to inspect the Leaning Tower, then on Sunday down to Rome on the bullet train to sort out our losses. On the downhill slope now and expect to be in Abu Dhabi by the end of next week for a short stop… then home to cool Melbourne.
Venice receives 19 million visitors in a year. They are all here tonight. It is also a well established fact that Venice is sinking into the sea. Clearly it is the collective weight of the tourists that is causing this problem. The temperature is 34 degrees and the humidity is oppressive.
For around 300AUD you can get a reasonable but tiny room in a three star hotel. The trick is finding it again after dinner. A maze of canals, alleys and footbridges make it simply irresponsible to venture more than 50 metres from your hotel without a well marked map, a compass, a cold drink and a sense of adventure.
Picturesque, romantic, and strangely magnetic, it is also the third most likely place on Earth to get your pickets pocked… or is that packets plucked…?
In 2 nights we walked, ate, visited a glass factory on nearby Murano Island, ate some more, and enjoyed the spectacle of 19 million others doing exactly the same.
Essentials for a Venetian sojourn… bread crumbs and a long piece of string.
We continue south towards Firenze (Florence) on the train tomorrow. Tuscany… the heart and soul of Italy.
The capital of this tiny mountainous country is a delightful, clean and orderly city with a population of around 400,000. The streets are wide and spotless, most with covered walkways to make life easier for pedestrians in what must be a very cold winter.
Perched on the hill and almost surrounded by the horseshoe River Aare, the city boasts a number of quite unique (as opposed to very unique) attractions. The city faunal emblem is the bear, and they can be seen along the river side untethered and uncaged. The river is a deep gorge and in summer is the main past-time for the locals with numerous swimming areas. In the centre of town the main transport hub dominates with the most orderly bus terminal, subterranean rail station, and tram terminal all in one easy to navigate area. A strange astrological clock tower just to the east of the transport hub is quite a feature. (See pics under Suisse tab).
Public transport in this obviously wealthy city seems excessive for the size of the population. Buses run at intervals of minutes to every part of town, and an extensive tram system using the latest technology glides through town constantly… with about 20 passengers during peak hour.
The banks are well represented, along with art houses, government buildings, designer boutiques, cafes, and a bohemian quarter that is so orderly it defies the term bohemian.
Bern is the best launching place for the Alps with regional trains servicing the surrounding towns via a network of tunnels.
It is however… expensive. And in this German speaking town, be careful when you compliment the chef after dinner…
“How was your meal sir?”
“Tres bien”
“Yes sir, right away” (calls out something to the barman)
Watching closely it became apparent that we had just ordered three beers.
To the mountains, Jungfraujoch, and the fernicular railway that climbs to Europe’s highest railway station.
From Bern our InterCity train departs early, about 0730, the first of 4 trains. Skirting around the shores of Lake Thurin the comfortable (on time every time) SBB reveals the magic of Switzerland’s mountainous landscape. Sheer rocky escarpments plummet directly into the aqua and snow capped peaks surround.
First stop Interlaken Ost, and a change to a smaller train for the winding climb to Lauterbrunnen. From Lauterbrunnen the smaller train runs on a ratchet rail system, the gradient too steep for traditional rail traction. It’s clear that we are going somewhere extraordinary… the jagged snow caps surround us, the cow bells chime, and the Korean tourists clamour for the windows. The last stop Kleine Scheidegg, another change to a smaller fernicular railway, and the gradient increases even further as the carriages enters a 10 klm tunnel.
The station at Jungfraujoch is inside the tunnel, and an intricate network of caverns leads to the viewing area, and a visual masterpiece of twisting glaciers and pointed white peaks. The view is simply breathtaking. The experience is probably the highest on the list of ‘must do’s’ in Europe.
Following our tour of the G H Mumm Champagne House on Sunday morning we enjoyed a magnificent meal in the main street of town, including a local dish of Sauerkraut with Ham Hock and other assorted meats. Stuffed to the gills we grabbed our bags and staggered to the Reims de la Gare to catch the first of the four trains that will deliver us into Switzerland.
Reims to Champagne-Ardenne is a short trip of 10 minutes. The Champagne-Ardenne station is a junction station in the middle of fields of barley. If you have ever wondered how fast a bullet train travels… this is a great place to get ‘up close and personal’ with a rocket on rails. Standing on our platform we saw in the distance what we thought would be our train… however, it did not stop… it did not even slow down… and within not more than the blink of an eye this monster steel snake shot past at 300 kmh and left us in its wake. It was an amazing experience… that lasted all of not more than a second. Shortly afterwards our bullet train rolled in to collect us for the for sprint to Strasbourg, close to the German border. Heading south west the mountains start to build on both sides, and within 2 hours we arrive at the Strasbourg city centre, just long enough to dash into the street for a few pics.
The third train of the afternoon is from Strasbourg to Basel (Bale), just over the border into Switzerland. Whilst Basel is a Swiss town, it sits on the point where Germany, France and Switzerland meet… kind of like Cameron’s Corner. Sadly we have only 15 minutes to transfer here to our 4th train of the day… Basel to Bern.
Whilst technically not a bullet train, the Swiss SBB trains maintain a rapid pace of around 160kph and are the most comfortable train so far. The carriage fills up with Swiss Guards just before we roll out of Basel station, but they all vacate at Olten, the only stop the train makes en route to Bern.
The Swiss do trains really well. Tunnels, one at least 20 kilometres long, and a lot of them as the Swiss Alps get closer.
We arrive in Bern just as night falls, and with packs on our backs walk to the ‘old quarter’ to find some digs for the night. This is a tough call, but we eventually find a small room up a narrow spiral staircase above a bar/street cafe. The Nydeck Hotel, 160 Swiss francs… not even sure how much that is!!!!
Tomorrow is something special. Interlarken and Jungfrau. The view that makes other views cringe in shame and embarrassment. It will be cold. We will have to wear ALL our t-shirts at once.
Champagne just makes your day get better, and G H Mumm Champagne is no different. Apparently the third largest producer of Champagne, which can only be produced in the Champagne region of France, Mumm Champagne is the choice of F1 winners, amongst other heroes.
The tour of the Mumm Champagne ‘factory’ (?) provides a comprehensive overview of the ‘methode champenoise’, a guided tour of the underground cellars which in total cover a distance of 25 kilometres at a depth of 20 metres, and of course a tasting. The temperature in the cellars is a consistent 10 degrees throughout the year, and provides some relief from the heat of the day upstairs.
Mumm has been producing Champagne since the early 1800’s at the same cellars in Reims. The oldest vintage still in the caverns is 130 years old, and still used by the winemakers today as the benchmark for each vintage.
The SCNF bullet train glides through the outskirts of Paris and into the Champagne region, reaching a blinding 300 kph and arriving in Reims after only 40 minutes. Chic Reims, loaded with history, cobbled streets, and a restaurant for each night of the year.
The Reims Notre Dame Cathedral holds a significant place in French history. King Charles VII stood aside Joan of Arc at his coronation in 1429. The intricate stonework of this Gothic masterpiece is daunting, and the size of the structure ensures it commands the entire city.
The tree lined main street through town is 300 metres of beautifully restored buildings, more alfresco restaurants than you can imagine, and food to die for. Sauerkraut with salmon, goats cheese salad, a bucket of mussels, creme brulee, and a vanilla milkshake.
Full as a French Primary School we stagger to the Cathedral for another look at an amazing part of French history, then on to our hotel.
Being in le Champagne region, it would be irresponsible not to tour a local Champagne house. Sunday morning, before departing for Berne in Switzerland, we take a tour of this treasured process at the Mumm Champagne House, only 10 minutes stroll from the town centre.
There is nothing to say about Paris that has not already been said.
Arriving on Wednesday evening at Charles de Gaulle we caught the Roissy bus to Opera and found a hotel for the evening. The London Hotel, strangely. Typical Parisien hotel room… just big enough to put a bed in. Then out to have quick explore of the local area and a bite to eat. The culinary upgrade from Thailand is amazing.
Thursday morning and it’s off to explore the Catacombs, the Eiffel Tour, late lunch in Montemartre, and then a well deserved respite from the hot sun. Then the obligatory stroll along both sides of the Champs Elysees, the Arch de Triumph, ending the evening the best light show in Paris… if not the World… the Eiffel Tour from Trocadero. It was 33 in Paris today.
Friday and the Paris tour continues with a cruise on The Seine, Notre Dame, and a long walk up hill to Sacre Cour to watch the Parisien lights appear as the sun set. A magnificent panorama, and some very entertaining buskers.
Dinner in the backstreets bohemian Montemarte. Back home on the Metro.
Bangkok is a bustling commercial metropolis, steamy, seedy, and a fun place to spend a day or two. Visits, of course, to the Grand Palace which was built especially for 6 million Chinese tourists per year, and Wat Pho, the largest reclining Buddha in the world. A cruise up the Chaopraya River, a wander through Chinatown, and a few Tuk Tuk rides. Day markets, night markets, food markets, fish markets, flesh markets. We’ve seen a fair bit of the local produce.
Life is all about being able to adapt to change, change your plan, plan your journey, and understand your environment. Nothing ever stays the same, and so our journey has taken a sharp left turn.
After three weeks of “Hello Mister” we have reset our location to France, and arrived here in Paris via Moscow only a few hours ago. It must have been the humidity! From the city of sweat, to the City of Light. Breakfast in Bangkok, lunch in Moscow, dinner in Paris.
Aeroflot got out their newest Airbus for the nine hour flight across India, the Himilayas, Paki, Afghani, Tajiki, Uzbeki, Kazakh… stans… and Russia. The couple two rows in front got out heir newest baby for our entertainment. The emptiness of the land below looks primed for the challenges of a motorbike crossing. But not today, maybe next year.
Beautiful Paris, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Seine, the Louvre, and lots of really famous dead people. Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison and many others are buried in great company here.
2 days in Kuala Lumpur and we have done some washing, eaten well, slept soundly and ready to continue northward. The overnight train from KL Sentral takes us though Kuala Kabu Bharu (Mum’s home town), Ipoh, Butterworth, and finally pulling into a deserted Padang Besar on the Thai border at 9am. Immigration into Thailand takes about an hour, and then back onto a Thai Railways train for the last 100 klms to Hat Yai.
Hat Yai is a large commercial centre and transport hub and is the largest city in southern Thailand. Not a very pretty place, although just up the road about 20 klms is the coastal town of Sogklha, a very popular place with Malaysian gentlemen. (The mind boggles, and having boggled … moves on)
A five hour bus ride gets us to Krabi on the western side of the Thai isthmus. (Isthmus… what a great word… rhymes with Christmas). Krabi was hit badly by the tsunami in 2009 but has made a good recovery. The tourists are dribbling back into the town slowly, and from what we can see… continuing to dribble while they are here. Such is the nature of Thai beach resort towns.
The Krabi Thai Hotel provides a bed for the night, alongwith aircon and Foxtel. Dinner at a local seafood restaurant is good tucker. Rice, grilled fish and Tom Yam soup… like being at home after Indonesian fare.
A lazy day wandering around Krabi, and then a long overnight bus trip via Surat Thani to Bangkok, (the bus of ferals), arriving at 6am. There are some beautiful stopover towns along the route such as Thap Sakae and Cha-am, but the road ahead is long and we skip past in the darkness of the Thai night.
Depart Lubuklinggau on bus at 3pm Monday, with 16 hours ahead of us before the next stop… Pekanbaru. Early morning at the bus terminal in Pekanbaru is not an attractive sight, and neither are we. Another 3 hours wait, and crammed into the back of a 4WD we head off with a maniac driver for the port of Dumai. A treacherous 5 hours later, bumped, bruised and broken, we lodge at the Grand Zuri Hotel, a veritable oasis amidst the industrialised Dumai.
Dumai port is ship laden, oil slicked, fume choked and busy (in an Indonesian kind of way). Nestled amidst the sea going tankers is the Melaka ferry terminal. Sadly, we have to leave Indonesia and continue our ambassadorial duties in Malaysia, and after a 150 klm bus ride from Melaka to KL Sentral, will find our way to Uncle Bert’s place.
Farewell Indonesia. We trust you enjoyed our company for the last 2 weeks.
In the short space of 30 years Sumatera has been exploited for its natural resources, especially oil and timber. At the current rate of destruction it is difficult to imagine what it will be like in 10 years. The population of Sumatera has increased rapidly with the increasing demand for labour. The islands infrastructure is way overloaded presently, roads congested, power grid unable to meet demand, housing in very short supply… etc.
There appears to be little regard at the local level for renewable methods. Flat land once covered with impenetrable jungle is stripped, and then lost into the rivers as silt. No evidence of erosion minimisation at all. Factories discharge toxic waste into the streets and rivers, effluent forms a thick skin on most bodies of water.
At a government level the right words are being spoken, but the pockets just get fatter.
Lubuklinggau is a reasonably large town. The main street is lined with motorcycle repair shops, small cafes, hairdressers, an array of small business, hawker stalls … and banks. Plenty of banks. Not surprising really, afterall it is the northern railhead of the southern Sumateran line.
Change money? Not in Lubuklinggau . We arrived here thinking that we would convert a few of our AUD into Rupiah, pay for our hotel, buy some tucker, and get back on the horse and ride north.
Not in Lubuklinggau , and we finally figured that out after 5 banks. Money transfer? Need someone here to transfer the money too. Hmmm… maybe an option, but can take 5 days.
Cash advance on CC? Sorry… no do in Lubuklinggau .
Western Union?… not in Lubuklinggau .
When it seems that we have only two options left… hitch out of town, or stand on a street corner, the bank manager at bank number 6 takes pity on destitute Aussies and converts 200 smackers for us in a transaction that has to be conducted in the basement behind the aircon unit… out of view of the security cameras. Why would he want AUD ? Maybe he is planning a cruise to Christmas Island?
From the ferry terminal at Bakauheni we have to take a grinding bus ride up to Bandar Lumpang Stasiun and arrive just with minutes to spare. Heavy industry lines the degraded highway for most of the 100 kilometres. Massive steel works, concrete factories, power generation and a huge transport hub. Sumatera’s industrialization and degradation of its natural beauty will unfold over the next few days.
The train from Bandar Lampung to Prabumulih runs through the night, arriving at 5am to a deserted station. There are very few people around so we deposit our bags in the Station Masters office and walk around the town… the usual ‘hello mister’.
Right on time at 10.57 our Ekonomi train arrives at the station… and not a minute too soon. The rattles and shakes along the winding route through rubber and tapioca plantations, with very few areas still covered by the original jungles. Large swathes of land have been cleared for farming and the only original features of this landscape are the occasional volcanoes towering up to 3000 mts.
After 8 hours we rattle in to Lubuklinggau , a town that last saw an English speaking tourist when Raffles called past here in 1817. It’s a large town, even has a KFC, the railhead of the southern Sumateran rail line… but we make a fine spectacle walking the main street with our back packs. ‘Hello Mister’.
A rest day here in Lubuklinggau before 36 hours in the bus to the port of Dumai on the north coast, and the ferry across to Melaka.
It’s difficult to find the appropriate words to describe Jakarta. It’s impossible to find any complimentary words. Our train from Yogjakarta pulled in to Tuga Station at 5pm and we had a rough idea that we would stay in the Glodok area, the Chinatown of Jakarta. The Chinta Hotel at $27 (including breakfast) proved to be worth every cent.
Dinner tonight was from a range of street vendors, capped off with a burger from A&W. The streets and narrow laneways are so congested with people, hawkers, motorcycles and rubbish. Nevertheless we walked for a few hours, got lost, walked a bit more, found our hotel, and settled in for the night.
Sadly we missed the chance to catch up with our friend here, but Jakarta is just not a good place to hang around. Taxi to the bus terminal early morning for the grinding 3 hour ride to Merak, the harbour port at the very tip of Western Java. The bus stops at the ferry terminal and the ferry is waiting. It’s a big ferry, in fact it almost reaches status of ship. Fortunately it’s not busy and the 3 hour cruise across the strait to Sumatera is quite relaxing, except for the deafening music, pestering vendors, and the stench of oil and Indonesian cigarettes.
Sailing into the port of Bakauheni the mountains rise out of the sea, and the port is surrounded by small uninhabited islands. A two hour bus ride to Bandar Lampung where we arrive at about 6.30pm… not even time enough for a bite to eat before the overnight train to Prabumulih where we have to wait for our connecting train to Lubuklinggau… where we have to wait for our connecting bus to Bukuttinggi…and so it goes on until Dumai.
We have traversed Java, end to end, east to west. The Sumatera slog has begun.
Borobudur on the cheap is still very expensive. Local busses for the 40 kilometre trip to the small township costs about 3 dollars. Entrance into the monument is 20 dollars each.
Originally built 1500 years ago, it is difficult to find much of the original structure. Multiple tiers, and about 100 metres square, the view from the top is fabulous, the design is impressive, the history is significant, but it’s just not the original structure anymore.
After clambering over the modern Borobudur for a few hours clad in a sarong of respect, we head back towards the bus stop. The bus back to Yogjakarta, a 20 seater mini bus, has a long list of safety concerns including no headlights. This becomes an issue about halfway through the trip apparently and we sat roadside waiting before the driver just continued on in darkness.
Dinner at the Superman Bar and Restaurant finished our two nights in Yogjakarta with a chicken Kiev, famous local cuisine. Tomorrow morning… the train to Jakarta.
The train from Kalibaru (Sri Tanjung) winds it’s way through jungles and rice paddies, heading north(ish) to Probolinggo on the coast. The tree lined streets and multitude of gold shops in this quite large town suggest a degree of prosperity. Beautiful clean streets, and a great restaurant, Sari Kuring. Mt Bromo is about 30 kilometres from here, and at 2am we are picked up by our driver for the ride up the mountain to watch the sunrise.
What a spectacle! Standing on the lip of the caldera and watching as Mounts Bromo, Semaru and others revealed themselves to the first light of day was well worth the effort. Jumped back into the 4WD for the steep drive back down into the caldera and across the black volcanic sand to the base of Mt Bromo. The climb to the lip is about 2 kilometres, and hard work, but so worth the effort. Standing on the lip and staring into the abyss reveals a steaming sulphurous crater.
Our driver then returns us to Probolinggo just in time to catch the Sri Tanjung (economy train) for the 7 hour journey to Yogjakarta.
The sector called Sosrowijayan is a jumble of boutique hotels, bars, restaurants, shops and hawkers and is a great atmosphere. Two nights here will give us a chance to do a short trip to Borobudur, 40 kilometres to the north east.
From Kuta on Bali we grab a taxi into Denpasar. The Ubang bus terminal is everything you would expect… grubby, busy, fumey and full of buses. Indonesian bus drivers secure their qualifications by demonstrating that they can reach level 4 in ‘Need for Speed’. The sprint to the ferry crossing at Gilimanuk is a thrilling fairground ride through serene rice terraces.
The ASDP ferry across to Balywangu is the same style of vessel that plies the Sunda Strait around Flores and Timor.
The bus continues on through terraces which get steeper and steeper, eventually giving in to the dense tropical forest and volcanic peeks. The enigma of Indonesia is more apparent here than anywhere… chaos versus tranquility, and never anything in between.
Kalibaru has been described as “a peaceful village of Dutch colonial origin, set on a hillside amongst plantations”. The bit about the plantations is correct. The only real advantage that Kalibaru offers to the traveler is that the railway crosses the highway. There is a resort here, owned by the person that wrote the description of Kalibaru for Lonely Planet. Hot water finally became available at 11pm. Without TV, we had to make our own entertainment. Fire crackers!
Dinner is a hawker degustation from a selection of roadside vendors. Late at night nature returns the favour and the skies light up. Much more impressive than our efforts earlier.
Arrived in Bali from Singapore and went straight to our hotel in Kuta. Wandered around the nearby shops and then went out to dinner at a really swish restaurant. What a surprise… Jim Higgins arrives. Lovely dinner overlooking the beach followed by a walk around Legian area.
The next morning we met up with Jim and Ruly for breakfast, and then a massage. Jim’s friend Chris Myers also came along.
Beach walks and window shopping in the afternoon and Jim and Ruly came down to Kuta for dinner on our last evening in Bali. Was a good night out with great company finished off with a coffee at Gloria Jeans across the road from our hotel.
Sunday morning, early breakfast and then a cab to Ubang bus terminal in Denpasar.
Arrived in Singapore about 5 in the afternoon after a delay of one hour. Caught the train from Changi to our hotel and then went to Lau Pa Sat in the city for chicken satay and chilli stingray for dinner. Walked the full length of Orchard Road and stopped at Raffles Hotel for a picture. Walked around the river at Boat Quay, and then went back to the hotel.
