Monthly Archives: April 2014

Day 176

Taking longer than usual to get out the bed, we pulled ourselves together and got on the road. We passed several fishing villages where the ships were tightly packed, it’s hard to imagine how they all got in there in the first place.

Along with the sea we were also treated to the powerful stench of rotten fish. We passed several markets and for a moment I considered stopping before I noticed that ground was composed of several layers of compacted trash.

Turning off of route 7 onto 1 everything changed in a moment. The endless wall of businesses was broken and a fresh breeze was blowing off the fields. The road, regularly punctuated by ruts, holes was suddenly smooth. I couldn’t help but put my hand out to let the grass that grew along the road run under it. I was overjoyed but Cher had not given to premature celebration.

Jatibarang was the first town we encountered that lost that scruffy feel. Local residents strolled about and were shopping in a small mall. We bought food in a well stocked grocery store and found some excellent avocados. Our hotel was extremely clean, quite, well priced and friendly. We went to bed that night each with a little more optimism than we started with.

Day 175

Roads continued to be congested as we passed through a number of scruffy towns. There doesn’t seem to be a break in this. The urban sprawl is incredible with every valuable roadside spot a business. Tire repairs shops, restaurants, mechanics, local convenience stores, Indomart and Alfamart, textile shops line the road in an unbroken chain. Traffic is heavy all day long and the wall of businesses blocks any breezes from blowing away the exhaust.

Heavy traffic on narrow road, with no shoulders to escape

Our repetitive, drab scenery was broken by the appearance of a naked homeless woman and then a naked man wandering down the street. No one seemed to notice. Soon afterwards we saw a cat and a barefoot man scavenging through huge piles of rubbish along the road. Next to this man was a creek, and although we had smelled hundreds or animals rotting in the sun, we both for the first time almost vomited from the smell. There is no way to sugar coat this. The amount of pollution here is overwhelming. Our senses are being assaulted on a daily basis.

We only encountered one stretch of rice field for the entire day. We only caught a glimpse of the green before the scenery switched back to more grey human establishment.

We found a small hotel next to the road and washed the grit off. Sweat and dirt from my face made it look at if I was wearing mascara and was crying. Perhaps it was an omen. I had to laugh writing that, but it’s becoming difficult to stay positive.

Day 174

Aiming for our next destination towards the east, Cher trusted Google maps to navigate us through some back roads. We were quickly lost in the slums of West Jakarta. Unwilling to get back onto the congested highway in the city, we continued to push deeper and deeper into the labyrinth hoping that the muddy path we were on would turn into a road. We passed many curious onlookers who were too surprised to even approach or yell at us. Two foreigners on trikes riding down a dirt path in their yard was not a normal sight for them.

The dirt road itself was bumpy enough, yet everywhere we went there were speed bumps 10 meters apart as if anyone could have gone more than 10kph. We were on the back road in the slums for an hour making progress in meters at a time. I imagined that bushwhacking through a jungle with a machete would be faster. Eventually we reached a point where we could go no further. A field of rice, several kilometers wide separated us from the nearest major road.

From constant use, Cher’s tablet died in the middle of the labyrinth. We had to navigate the old-fashioned way – I picked a road and got out my compass determined not to leave the concrete again.  We tried 3 different seemingly big routes, hoping to head towards somewhere, and they were all dead ends. With only one more direction to go we set off, picking a town in the distance. I stopped to ask some local teenagers if we were going the right direction but everything I said to them they replied yes. You speak English? Yes. Bekasi? Yes. We want to go here, (pointing at the map). Yes. I moved on to some adults and pointed down the road, Bekasi. They also pointed and repeated Bekasi. Finally I gave up.

Eventually we got out of the slums back on the road again. This was not an improvement. Cruising along at 25 kph, the traffic would suddenly stop. Either the concrete ended, a giant pothole required the heavy traffic to find a way around it or what Cher called “freelance traffic conductors” were stopping the traffic so a large vehicle could pull into traffic. These traffic conductors placed themselves at all intersections and breaks in the barrier between the two lane road. They made their money from tips. Drivers using their services, trucks, buses and cars, pass cash to the conductor as they merge. That the necessity for such a job exists should give you an idea of the volume of traffic.

We found a hotel along on the Citarum River, which we later learned is one of the most polluted rivers in the world. This river and many others in Java are so polluted that water companies are unable purify them into drinking water. Even tap water from treatment plants can be contaminated with fecal coliforms. Water from the plants is piped through leaky pipes and stored in containers buried under ground which can be contaminated during flooding. Some businesses pump water from wells that may not be deep enough to avoid contamination from chemical waste produced by factories. Basically all water is suspect. This is the first time in almost 6 months that we considered buying water instead of treating it by using our SteriPen. Every time I see a large body of fresh water, I feel an impulse to swim in it. Now every time I see water I shudder. Our moral is taking a beating and we’re only two days in.

Cher had a melt down from the constant heavy traffic, and claimed she couldn’t do this anymore. Feeling that no matter how unpleasant it is we should stick it out, I made a deal that we would make sure to have short days and I wouldn’t object over the cost of hotels. We’ve read that the roads on the interior are better so we are holding onto the hope of reaching Tegal and heading into the hills. Cher who detest hills, would rather have long climbs than non-stop broken roads, traffic and pollution.

Day 173

We were amazed to find that there was the slum along a river right behind our hotel this morning. A river filled with so much garbage we couldn’t imagine that anyone would live on it. This would also explain why our hotel was so cheap compared to the rest of Jakarta. We went out to explore and were astounded at the amount of garbage either along the river bank and in the river. The river had a sickly grey color about it and the smell is overwhelming.

Had we done any research we would have learned that Java has some of the most polluted water systems in the world. Only 2% of the population have access to sewerage disposal system. Household waste, human waste and chemicals from factories are all dumped directly into the river which the majority of people depend on for bathing, washing clothes and drinking.  I could give you a long list of facts, but if you want to know more check it out here. Needless to say we were horrified.

Walking about in the market area, we found a number of warungs, or family run businesses selling food. We have found that since local restaurants rely on repeat business they are more sanitary than restaurants in touristy locations and less likely to make you sick. When we arrived we gorged ourselves on multiple dishes of eggs, fish, liver and vegetables served over rice. We returned to the same one three more times and enjoyed this new hearty cuisine.

Topi was going into the city center and then catching a train to Yogyakarta the following day. We made tentative plans to meet again if we were in Bali, wished Topi well and saw him off. When Topi arrived in Jakarta he wrote to warn us that the traffic was horrendous. We braced ourselves mentally by telling ourselves quaint lies and went to bed.

Day 171 & Day 172

We made a friend today. Seeing an obvious Surley touring frame at the hotel lobby, I made a guess that the only white guy eating breakfast was the owner. Topi, from Finland, was also taking the Ferry from Batam to Tanjung Priok, (West Jakarta). Topi has been traveling South East Asia offering his skills as a Chef for free room and board. On a whim he bought a bike in Bangkok and became a cycle tourer. He is the first cyclist that we’ve met in Malaysia.

It turned out that one of the millions of photographers that stopped us for photos was a reporter. The owner of the hotel we stayed at recognized us from the picture on the local newspaper and was nice enough to give us a copy, the caption reads that “Justine and Shair are traveling around the world on 3 wheeled motorcycles.” We wish we had motors!

We bought our tickets at the local Pelni office near the hospital, 5 minutes walk from the terminal. Get the tickets here, instead of waiting until you get to the ferry terminal because this is the only place to get a legit ticket.

We met a young exuberant backpacker while waiting for the ferry. With his Nike’s, flat brimmed hat, and tough guy attitude, he announced that he was not only from Chicago but was Chicago. He scoffed at us when we informed him where and for how much we bought our tickets, implying we got scammed. He then tried to buy a ticket at the Pier and was quoted almost a third more and he had to take a taxi to back to the Pelni ticket office where we bought ours. We also met a soft-spoken, smiley eyed backpacker from France, named Marco. We later learned that Marco had been traveling for the last year, by motorcycle from France to China, then on foot hitching through China and later as a crew member of a sailboat. This was the extent of the foreigners on the boat.

Tourist’s corner

We had read that there is a crushing mob when boarding starts, and it’s best to wait until most people board as each ticket has an assigned seat. This was great advice since the ship doesn’t set sail until 2 hours after the initial boarding. We also read that the porters will scam you by offering to carry your bags, and you being a naive Westerner assume it’s a service, until they demand an outrageous price after the fact. Most importantly we read and were told at the ticket stand to keep your valuables close, keep nothing in your pockets and don’t display any valuables until after the ferry leaves the port. Even after avoiding each of these pit falls we still got scammed.

We politely declined the at least ten porters offering to carry our bags. We could have made a deal, but most people carry our trikes by grabbing onto the most fragile features, like the mudguards, so I prefer to do it myself. We moved everything in steps. First we locked up the bikes and carried the luggage on board. I left Cher to guard the luggage on the ship, then returned to unlock one trike, carried it up to leave with Cher, then went back and unlocked the other. 30 sweaty minutes later our things were stowed. I had the pleasure of watching the porters making bets on if I would be able to carry the trike up the steep gangplank and then nudging each other as I easily shouldered my trike and laughing. Although the trikes look bulky, they are not heavy, just awkwardly balanced.

Topi was seated across from us and we were mutually happy to have an extra set of eyes to look after our stuff and of course another English speaker to chat with. As we were settling in our beds, a member of the crew dressed in a white sailor uniform, stopped by to check our tickets and amid the confusion and chaos I didn’t realize it until it was too late that he didn’t return our tickets. If you don’t have your tickets, you are fined and you can not get food from the canteen. Tickets are checked whenever you move between decks. I found a crew member named Oxxum to help me and we located the scoundrel who pocketed my ticket. I confronted him and he said I lost it. Luckily they keep a computer record of all tickets purchased and Cher’s ticket was found and reprinted. However, my name didn’t come up in a keyword search. My savior Oxxum, patiently went through hundreds of printed ticket receipts in search for mine. They couldn’t find my name because the when copying the information from my passport, my name was entered as Mr. McGlynn. Oxxum later warned me, “trust no one on the sea.” This was excellent advice. I returned to our sleeping area and tied all of our bags together and barricaded them under our beds with our trike seats.

We decided to take economy because first class costs almost as much as flying and second class, where they divide you into rooms of 4 or 8, are separated by sex. Economy class gets you a bed, with space to put your things underneath and 3 meals per day. The ship claims to be air-conditioned but I spent most of the time sweating. Sleep was difficult since we were right next to the T.V. which was kept on until Cher decided to make a stand and battled a woman after midnight alternately switching in off and on. Our neighbors also chain smoked cigarettes, which is quite common and without windows it was like being in a dive bar. We didn’t ask them to stop, thinking it better to be on good terms with our neighbors. There were cockroaches everywhere, and although they avoided crawling on people, these impudent insects didn’t care if the lights were on or not. As for the meals, they were just barely enough to keep passengers alive on board and consist of white rice and a very small salty fish, and maybe some congee with a trace of egg. We ate the meals, but we noticed many locals brought their own instant noodles as supplements.

We settled in and after the ship left we witnessed a distraught man being consoled by the guards. They made a half-hearted look under some of the beds, presumably for his lost bag. Without security cameras on the ship, it would be easy to snatch a bag, rummage through it for valuables, and then chuck it into the sea leaving no evidence of the crime. With out bags safely under our bed we slept a little, before getting everyone together for some Chinese checkers and whiskey. Hoping this would help us get to sleep or I could insert some other excuse, we polished off a small bottle of cheap whiskey.

Even with our whiskey we woke early enough to see the sun rise thanks to the ever-present adhan. The call to prayer has lost its initial mysterious wonder due to its ability to wake me from a deep slumber, even before the rooster crows.

We passed the time with music, podcasts and Chinese Checkers before arriving in West Jakarta at 7:30pm. We unloaded and parted ways with Marco, and found a cheapish hotel just a few kilometers from the pier. I was happy to have a hot shower that everyone wasn’t peeing in and Cher who skipped showering for 2 days due to baby poo in the lady’s was overjoyed to be clean again. Most importantly, no more indoor chain-smoking in our private hotel room. We found a local restaurant nearby and after the taste deprivation on the ferry, the food was incredibly flavorful. Among 3 of us, we had 5 servings for only 90,000 Rupiah.

We had made it and now begins the last leg of our South East Asia journey. Although we were already in Indonesia, crossing the equator during our ferry ride gave me the feeling of accomplishment. We had under mostly our own power meandered over a point which Cher and I had previously only crossed once each during our lives. Now we had crossed it together.