Yet another long day stretches in front us, broken only by the prospect of yet another traumatic ferry crossing in a rusty tin can from Sumatra to Java. Its only couple of hours to the ferry and we should be in Bandung by tea time. The roads have been generally pretty dreadful in Sumatra so it takes us a while to notice that we are no longer on a main road. We make our way through pretty villages and countryside lush with vegetation and plantations of coconut, bananas and oil palms. As we go on the road gets busier and busier with traffic and we are forced to stop and wait in long queues as oncoming traffic negotiates a particularly large pothole or narrow section of road. But it is so pretty we are not perturbed by these ever increasing delays.
Eventually, as we approach the time we should be arriving at the port, and we are still in beautiful countryside, Ando, our lovely, but shy guide, plucks up the courage to deliver the bad news. A bridge collapse on the highway, means we have had to take a diversion and will be delayed by a couple of hours. A couple of hours turns into four by the time we finally arrive at the port. I am not encouraged by the sight of a semi submersed boat as we make the approach to the ramp. This is a bigger ferry than our previous and has an executive lounge. Ten thousand rupiah each for comfort and tranquility is a small price to pay and several of gladly pay up for the opportunity of catching up on our blogs and a bite to eat in the air conditioned lounge. Others decide to catch our first sight of sun on the upper decks and the view to Krakatoa in the distance. The time passes quickly and it isn’t long before we are called back into the fume filled bowels of the boat to board our bus for the next leg. There is a noticeable difference on the landscape as we traverse Java. This Indonesian island is much more developed than Sumatra. The roads are wide and well tarmaced. The farming land is well organised and as we pass through Jakarta with its multiple Spaghetti Junctions of flyovers, it’s clear this is where the money has been spent.
As the rain starts to fall, we arrive at our hotel for the night. In my room, it feels like I’m parked on the M1 motorway. It’s Friday night and the boys are back in town. When I wake up with the dawn, they are still thundering up and down the road on the motorbikes.
Eventually, as we approach the time we should be arriving at the port, and we are still in beautiful countryside, Ando, our lovely, but shy guide, plucks up the courage to deliver the bad news. A bridge collapse on the highway, means we have had to take a diversion and will be delayed by a couple of hours. A couple of hours turns into four by the time we finally arrive at the port. I am not encouraged by the sight of a semi submersed boat as we make the approach to the ramp. This is a bigger ferry than our previous and has an executive lounge. Ten thousand rupiah each for comfort and tranquility is a small price to pay and several of gladly pay up for the opportunity of catching up on our blogs and a bite to eat in the air conditioned lounge. Others decide to catch our first sight of sun on the upper decks and the view to Krakatoa in the distance. The time passes quickly and it isn’t long before we are called back into the fume filled bowels of the boat to board our bus for the next leg. There is a noticeable difference on the landscape as we traverse Java. This Indonesian island is much more developed than Sumatra. The roads are wide and well tarmaced. The farming land is well organised and as we pass through Jakarta with its multiple Spaghetti Junctions of flyovers, it’s clear this is where the money has been spent.
As the rain starts to fall, we arrive at our hotel for the night. In my room, it feels like I’m parked on the M1 motorway. It’s Friday night and the boys are back in town. When I wake up with the dawn, they are still thundering up and down the road on the motorbikes.
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