Well what a 48 hours this has been, hectic is not even the word for it.
I had to get to the airport around midday in order to check in and catch the flight over to Singapore, so I was packed up and checked with plenty of time, however it was a shame that my taxi driver spoke no English.
I really wanted to have the taxi driver take me to the zoo first, where the statue of the symbol of Surabaya was, but he didn’t understand and so despite driving right past it all I got was another almost useless drive past photo and nothing worth sending off to National Geographic or anything.
Apparently from the CBD I can get a bus to the airport for around 10,000 but my hotel wasn’t in the CBD and I had no idea ofhow to get there, so in the end I just went with the taxi which cost me around 70,000, not too much all things considered.
It was a shock to the system to have to check my luggage through security the second you got through the main airport doors and I hadn’t even reached the check in desk yet, so they are quite thorough on this.
A 150,000 IDR airport leaving tax was the last mini disappointment that I had before it was off flying back to Singapore in order to then cross the city and catch an overnight train to KL, Malaysia. The flight was a few hours and although we got a drink we didn't get any meal for free, and I really wasn’t interested in buying anything so I just fell asleep and waited for the flight to be over.
There was almost a good chance to catch the Singapore sunset just as we arrived around 6pm, but the sky was still too overcast and cloudy and so only the tiniest red slip of sky was visible.
Touching down I had the pleasure of going through security all over again, which is Singapore is one of the quickest and most pleasant it could be, before I was then retracing a familiar route to the third terminal in order to then catch the MRT to the nearest stop to the train station at Keppel Street.
This was where a map and a compass would have come in very handy, as the train station was due south of the MRT station but instead I ended up going due north and almost ending up back in China Town, which is quite a way away. Although I had given myself a bit of time, this wrong direction delay cost me badly and it meant that I was rushing back the way I came trying to find a taxi to take me there before it was too late.
I took a side street in an effort to cut off a corner of my route and I found myself slap bang in what could only be one of Singapore’s red light districts, or at least massage and gentleman club areas, and had I had more time I could have stopped and had a drink or two but being hard pressed I had to forge on ahead and remember it for next time, if there ever was a next time that I will be back in Singapore.
I did eventually find a taxi, but he almost didn’t want to take me, saying that it was only a few minutes’ walk, but I explained that I was in a hurry and didn’t have time to lose, so despite having to go the long way round a one way system he agreed to take me there and in less than five minutes I was jumping out, having paid him less than SIN$10, and was rushing to try and find if the ticket booth was still open or not.
Around 9:15 I found it, less than an hour before it was due to leave, and that gave me just enough time to buy the ticket SIN $38, buy a quick meal and few cans of drinks, less than SIN $10 and then completed the visa application form as of course Singapore is a city state and a country all in one, and although it was once part of Malaysia, that was many years ago and now they are separate.
The train left at 10pm prompt and it took at least half an hour before we reached the checkpoint where we had to get out and go through border immigration, but thankfully I could leave my stuff on the train, assuming that I didn’t mind leaving it unguarded for a few minutes, which I didn’t as everyone as out doing the same as I was, and if someone was going to take my rucksack then good luck to them as it’s a heavy beast and the straps are almost frayed to the limits after all the times its been thrown around in airport lounges.
I had booked a sleeping cabin, which was like a slim bunk bed stuck to the train walls and was barely 6 foot long, so just enough room for me but I doubt any basketball player could get in without being decapitated first.
The bus was cheaper and took only four hours, apparently, but I wanted to try the train and it fitted my timetable as I was going to check in once I got to KL in the morning, however I was doubting this logic soon after the train left as it was the most uncomfortable train journey I have ever been on and I doubt that I got a wink of sleep the whole night.
Sadly for me, the hostel where I was checked in was a mixed dorm and they did not want me to check in until after 2pm, which is a total killjoy and after the train journey I had just had I decided to look around for something else that I could check into right away.
The taxi was arranged by a ticket counter inside the train station and for 10 RM I was given the ticket, but just my luck the driver didn’t know it and so he took me close, near the road, and pointed that it was up there somewhere, meaning he didn’t know the hostel but the road name rang a bell.
The hostel I had chose was 6 people sharer for 25 RM but instead I went across the road and got a private room for 50 RM, that was no more than a bunk bed and an air conditioner unit, but the room itself was barely able to fit the bed in let alone stand up or do anything else.
I slept for a few hours until about midday, when I thought that it was time to make the most of the day, so went for a walk to see if I could find a map and take some good photos. After a bit of a trek I found a mall, a place where I could get a headset for my laptop to use with the Skype, for free phone calls pc to pc, and a good view of the twin towers.
Retracing my steps I came back to the mall where I found a tourist bureau and I had heard that they are cheap and good in Malaysia, so I booked a night time tour for today and then a full day city tour for tomorrow, for 245 RM the pair, which is barely over £60 and so I didn’t think it was going if the trips are any good.
I also almost bought a rip off DVD of a Chinese martial arts movie by the smooth selling salesman, but I didn’t realise that they were rip offs until after I agreed to it and the only thing that saved me was that he had to burn the copy before I could have it and despite being told to come back in ten minutes, in twenty minutes it was still not ready and I couldn’t wait any longer before returning to catch the night time tour.
The tour bus arrived over half an hour early, it threw me, and he said that it was to beat the rain and traffic, but in my opinion he did neither. The rain started and then poured and then it was heavy thunder and lightning and this meant that everyone was jumping in taxi's and we sat slow moving for over an hour before we got anywhere.
When we finally got to the oldest Hindu temple in Malaysia I was disappointed as the guide didn’t come in with us, and it ended up being no more than a brief photo opportunity before going back into the bus to wait for a couple of Australian Chinese for almost half an hour before then being led to China Town night market and told to wander around and meet back in less than half hour to go to the meal and show.
With less than half an hour there was not much time to do anything, so I just strolled around and then went back to the minibus and waited.
At 7:45 we then all met up to go to the dinner buffet, which was a mixture of Chinese and Malay food, which was included but the drinks were not so I just had a couple of glasses of water which they prided themselves on never letting it get too low before being re topped up.
At 8:30 an hour long show started up, with various dances from the region, and there was even a couple of dart blowing shows but it was done on such a small scale and the compare spend longer talking than the dancers were dancing so it was a little of an anticlimax for most, but a perfectly reasonable ending to an overall below average tour in my opinion.
The thing that got my goat, apart from the fact that they allowed some of the Joe public up on stage who wanted to dominate everything including the photo sessions, but one guest thought he was Borat and was OTT on everything while some of the females in the audience stood up and took photos all the time so anyone not right up at the front could not take anything of any good quality without having them in the frame.
It was a good show if you didn’t mind all that, and the endless buffet included was almost worth if it you considered that you could eat for almost two hours nonstop, but my belly has limits and so I can't just go on eating, after a point it says enough is enough.
I did try taking some photos from the sides, where the standing women were not, but then I noticed that the lighting man had set up the rig so that the lights flashed and dimmed at irregular timings and so it was not possible for my automatic camera to take adjust to the light, as it kept changing, and so I took plenty but don't think many will come out worth framing.
The route back I stopped off for a stroll to try and walk off the meal, but it was so hot and muggy that I couldn't last long without having to take get back and take a cold shower and just chill under the air conditioning unit.
I will be moving hostels in the morning, to one just around the corner that has a slightly bigger room for slightly less, and a day trip booked that I hope won’t be ruined by the rain, so fingers crossed.
Showing posts with label Surabaya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Surabaya. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Sunday, 8 February 2009
A good day visiting the city sights of Surabaya, Indonesia
After a rather uninspiring day yesterday whose only hightlights were
booking a day trip for the next day and finding a nearby restaurant
that had chandaliers on the ceiling and a live pianist in the main
room, was served by up to six waitresses at the same time but still
had prices afordable by your average tourist ( less than IDR 100,000
for a starters, main meal, drink plus service and tip ... not bad at
all ) I decided to get a good nights sleep and prepare for a much
busier day in the morning.
Oh, the other thing was that the hotel decided to change my bedding
during the middle of the day and although I arrived when they were
half way through, they seemed in no hurry to finish and I must have
waited outside while three of them continued to slowly drag their
heels and left me out in the corridor for what seemed like an
eternity.
I woke up and had a bit of spare time to sort out the room before I
was to be met in the hotels main lobby by the tour guide and his
friend, who I later found out were both Muslims although they didnt
wear the traditional clothes or giveaway head gear.
Historically Java was settled by Bali Hindu's before Muslims arrived
and settled, then the Dutch came and also did a little settling before
it reached the mixed religious melting pot that it currently is. A
population of nearly two million people almost doubles during the
daytime when civilians from near and far come into the city to work,
beg or pray.
Apparently Surabaya comes from the two words Sura - meaning brave, and
Baya - meaning dangerous, and the symbol and statue of the city is a
shark and a crocodile attacking each other with somehow the shark
being the brave and the crocodile being the danger.
The day started off with a bit of light drizzle, which ceased later
on, then poured down, then stopped again and this continued for the
next eight or nine hours, with us constantly getting wet, getting out
umbrellas and me taking off my jacket to ease the humidity of the
climate, leaving me hot and cold almost at the same time.
The first place we went to was the submarine museum, the KRP Pasopati
#410, a Russian submarine which was given to the Indonesians ten years
after it first saw service and it continued til it became obsolete
when it was eventually chopped into six pieces and moved here before
being reassembled above ground to where it finally rests today.
It is a fairly small submarine compared to the modern nuclear subs,
being only 76.6 meters long and barely 6.3 meters wide, housing at
most a crew of sixty, but when you get inside you cant see how more
than twenty seamen could rest at any one time, there being so little
space for sleeping, eating or anything to be honest.
The guide was an actual former serviceman who worked on the boat, but
his English was so high pitched and thickly accented that I had a hard
time deciding if he was indeed speaking English or had forgotten about
me and dropped back into Indonesian, and when I asked about his
ability to read and speak Russian he tried to demonstrate for me but
again his speach and accent was so strong that I still could not tell
any difference.
The next stop was the Heroes Monument, which was a great museum with
some funky rounded off optical illusion displays that show historical
scenes and was like seing an 3D image but better.
With plenty of reliefs to look at, left over machine guns and mortars
from both the allies and the Japanese and even some makeshift bamboo
spears it was like going back in time, and I was a little embarrased
that when the allies arrived to "help defend" the islands from the
advancing Japanese that they quickly became no better than the enemy
and pitched battles with the bamboo wielding locals soon ensued.
Thankfully, just when the allies thought that they had done enough to
quell the locals and expected their surrender, a force of youthful
freedom fighters arrived and said that they would rather die than lose
their freedom to anyone, which sort of jolted the allied command out
of their stupor and finally they called a ceasefire and finally
started to assist the locals amicably instead of installing their own
government and appoint officials. The news that it was the Dutch who
wanted most to take over control of the Island of Java helped me to
feel a little better, but not fully.
Through the rain we continued to drive through areas showing the
richer and the poorer areas of Surabaya until we reached the House of
Sampoerna, a cigarette factory and museum that smelled heavily of
cloves which they use to mix with the tocabbo in their local brand of
smokes.
I was a bit hungry and so before we went round the museum and factory
area I stopped off to grab a bite to eat and tried the local food of a
fatty beef stew served with rice, which was super yummy, while my two
guides went off to pray for a few minutes.
Although not a smoker myself, it was interesting to learn that the
local women can roll on average 6 cigarettes a minute, although the
factory itself is closed on Sundays, and the musuem above was full of
enough history and interesting stuff, like a original Heidelberg
printing press and a musical band uniform section which was all part
of the advertising down the ages.
It was a shame infact that the factory was not working as it would
have been interesting to see all the workers crammed in like sardines,
with the noise and smell of tobacco and cloves heavy in the air,
especially when I heard that as a tourist I could even pay a trivial
donation to be able to be taught how to roll my own and then a chance
to try it out for real! I wonder if the Heidelberg was still working
as then I could have even producted and printed my own packet which
would have been too cool.
We then drove through a few different areas, and did a few drive pasts
but with the heavy traffic and rain it was nigh on impossible to stop
and get any good shots so I had to be content with just looking at a
few of the rich architectural buildings.
Next stop was the oldest Chinese Temple in Indonesia and it was here
that I had my fortune told, which I hope comes true and it was very
positive. I had to light a few joss sticks, pray then hold two clogs
together and after infusing them with smoke dash them to the ground
and hope for an odd split which signals good luck. I did, and then
after shaking my fortune out of a tumbler, infused and shook another
odd split of the clogs which was about the best luck I could hope for
and then came the fortune telling.
With my guide acting as translator to the Chinese fortune teller, I
was told that I will have good luck, be free from police and miliatary
intervention, find something that was lost, be soon visited soon by a
person close to me from back home, have an ill person close to me get
better before finally returning home to wealth, happiness and more
good fortune.
Then it was on to the Muslim quarter where I thought my two guides
were going to pray more, but they must be waiting for me to return to
the hotel first as they refrained from doing so, possibly because we
were short of time and I politely declined the offer to remove my
shoes, socks and go inside and pray myself. I hope I did not offend or
insult them by not doing this, and as they seemed cool with me before
and after I like to think that I didn't, but you never can tell.
The Ampel Mosque and prayer areas were full of people paying their
respects and I learned about the cleaner who died and returned to life
seven times before he finally died of old age the eighth time and for
his ceaseless cleaning of the area he was given his own gravestone
here.
Along the area was a mini bazarre where there was plenty of cheap
stalls where you could buy just about anything but I refrained from
eating the food when I saw that the sellers were so bored that they
didn't even bother to try and shoe away the flies who happily sat
muching on the sweet buns and cakes that were being sold.
The Red Bridge was smaller than I expected, though its historical
claim to faim is the site where the British Brigadier General Mallaby
was killed and not for its impressive size or complex structural
design, so perhaps I should not complain too much, and when we passed
by the cities oldest best hotel on Tunjungan Street my guides got out
and got permission for me for us to park and for me to take a few
photos which was nice of them.
The next stop was te Cheng Hoo Mosque, which is a Muslim mosque thats
architecture is based on the traditional Chinese Pagoda style and
makes a rather unique place to visit. The place was empty of people
praying, possibly because of the rain, and I made a small faux pax by
standing on the very edge of the floor with my shoes, while I was
trying to get around a puddle in order to take a better picture of the
inside.
Reported to be the oldest Buddha temple in Java, the Joko Dolog Statue
was only minutes away from my hotel and yet I had missed it when I
walked past it the night before due to its use falling into decline
with the more modern and largest temples being created. It was a big
shame that the gates to this shrine were locked but the gates were
close enough to the statue itself for me to still get a photo of the
inside.
After a couple more drive past photo opportunities were ruined by the
rain, we stopped at our second to last rest at a place where they make
Batik, the artwork cloth of the region that is all hand made by a
group of women sitting round a boiling vat of strange waxing tar
substance while they work on reverse painting the material.
The place didnt smell half as bad as I expected and the artwork that
they could achieve through patience and skill was amazing, and I
especially liked one which had the Indonesian islands as the central
motif, and had I been on holiday instead of travelling through I am
sure that I would have bought some.
Despite its small size of the home grown factory, this smal business
take orders from all over Indonesia, even in the other major cities
like Jakarta, and they are currently fighting a cultural battle with
Malaysia to prove where the Batik first originated from, much like the
minor disputes between neighbouring countries in both central and
south america.
The final stop was just a few minutes later and here was a large
Handicraft indoor market which had plenty of nice souveneirs on sale,
and it was here that I saw a postcard that had a picture of the Worlds
Largest Buddhis Stupa, which was breathtaking and apparently was
considered to be a wonder of the world up until they were reclassified
in 2008. This one postcard put me in a bit of a downer as I realised
that this was exactly the sort of thing that I wanted to visit while
here in Indonesia and that I had in effect missed a great opportunity
by spending my days in big cities like Jakarta and Surabaya instead of
heading on over to this place.
My only clouds silver lining is that of course I bought the postcard,
but more than that, as now I know that it exists, depending on what
else happens here in the far east I might just have time to visit here
before leaving the region although of course I wont have time to do it
before I leave for Singpaore tomorrow lunchtime.
Minutes later I was back at my hotel and then spent the rest of the
day eating sweets, drafting this blog entry and ensuring that I was
all ready to leave for the airport tomorrow.
booking a day trip for the next day and finding a nearby restaurant
that had chandaliers on the ceiling and a live pianist in the main
room, was served by up to six waitresses at the same time but still
had prices afordable by your average tourist ( less than IDR 100,000
for a starters, main meal, drink plus service and tip ... not bad at
all ) I decided to get a good nights sleep and prepare for a much
busier day in the morning.
Oh, the other thing was that the hotel decided to change my bedding
during the middle of the day and although I arrived when they were
half way through, they seemed in no hurry to finish and I must have
waited outside while three of them continued to slowly drag their
heels and left me out in the corridor for what seemed like an
eternity.
I woke up and had a bit of spare time to sort out the room before I
was to be met in the hotels main lobby by the tour guide and his
friend, who I later found out were both Muslims although they didnt
wear the traditional clothes or giveaway head gear.
Historically Java was settled by Bali Hindu's before Muslims arrived
and settled, then the Dutch came and also did a little settling before
it reached the mixed religious melting pot that it currently is. A
population of nearly two million people almost doubles during the
daytime when civilians from near and far come into the city to work,
beg or pray.
Apparently Surabaya comes from the two words Sura - meaning brave, and
Baya - meaning dangerous, and the symbol and statue of the city is a
shark and a crocodile attacking each other with somehow the shark
being the brave and the crocodile being the danger.
The day started off with a bit of light drizzle, which ceased later
on, then poured down, then stopped again and this continued for the
next eight or nine hours, with us constantly getting wet, getting out
umbrellas and me taking off my jacket to ease the humidity of the
climate, leaving me hot and cold almost at the same time.
The first place we went to was the submarine museum, the KRP Pasopati
#410, a Russian submarine which was given to the Indonesians ten years
after it first saw service and it continued til it became obsolete
when it was eventually chopped into six pieces and moved here before
being reassembled above ground to where it finally rests today.
It is a fairly small submarine compared to the modern nuclear subs,
being only 76.6 meters long and barely 6.3 meters wide, housing at
most a crew of sixty, but when you get inside you cant see how more
than twenty seamen could rest at any one time, there being so little
space for sleeping, eating or anything to be honest.
The guide was an actual former serviceman who worked on the boat, but
his English was so high pitched and thickly accented that I had a hard
time deciding if he was indeed speaking English or had forgotten about
me and dropped back into Indonesian, and when I asked about his
ability to read and speak Russian he tried to demonstrate for me but
again his speach and accent was so strong that I still could not tell
any difference.
The next stop was the Heroes Monument, which was a great museum with
some funky rounded off optical illusion displays that show historical
scenes and was like seing an 3D image but better.
With plenty of reliefs to look at, left over machine guns and mortars
from both the allies and the Japanese and even some makeshift bamboo
spears it was like going back in time, and I was a little embarrased
that when the allies arrived to "help defend" the islands from the
advancing Japanese that they quickly became no better than the enemy
and pitched battles with the bamboo wielding locals soon ensued.
Thankfully, just when the allies thought that they had done enough to
quell the locals and expected their surrender, a force of youthful
freedom fighters arrived and said that they would rather die than lose
their freedom to anyone, which sort of jolted the allied command out
of their stupor and finally they called a ceasefire and finally
started to assist the locals amicably instead of installing their own
government and appoint officials. The news that it was the Dutch who
wanted most to take over control of the Island of Java helped me to
feel a little better, but not fully.
Through the rain we continued to drive through areas showing the
richer and the poorer areas of Surabaya until we reached the House of
Sampoerna, a cigarette factory and museum that smelled heavily of
cloves which they use to mix with the tocabbo in their local brand of
smokes.
I was a bit hungry and so before we went round the museum and factory
area I stopped off to grab a bite to eat and tried the local food of a
fatty beef stew served with rice, which was super yummy, while my two
guides went off to pray for a few minutes.
Although not a smoker myself, it was interesting to learn that the
local women can roll on average 6 cigarettes a minute, although the
factory itself is closed on Sundays, and the musuem above was full of
enough history and interesting stuff, like a original Heidelberg
printing press and a musical band uniform section which was all part
of the advertising down the ages.
It was a shame infact that the factory was not working as it would
have been interesting to see all the workers crammed in like sardines,
with the noise and smell of tobacco and cloves heavy in the air,
especially when I heard that as a tourist I could even pay a trivial
donation to be able to be taught how to roll my own and then a chance
to try it out for real! I wonder if the Heidelberg was still working
as then I could have even producted and printed my own packet which
would have been too cool.
We then drove through a few different areas, and did a few drive pasts
but with the heavy traffic and rain it was nigh on impossible to stop
and get any good shots so I had to be content with just looking at a
few of the rich architectural buildings.
Next stop was the oldest Chinese Temple in Indonesia and it was here
that I had my fortune told, which I hope comes true and it was very
positive. I had to light a few joss sticks, pray then hold two clogs
together and after infusing them with smoke dash them to the ground
and hope for an odd split which signals good luck. I did, and then
after shaking my fortune out of a tumbler, infused and shook another
odd split of the clogs which was about the best luck I could hope for
and then came the fortune telling.
With my guide acting as translator to the Chinese fortune teller, I
was told that I will have good luck, be free from police and miliatary
intervention, find something that was lost, be soon visited soon by a
person close to me from back home, have an ill person close to me get
better before finally returning home to wealth, happiness and more
good fortune.
Then it was on to the Muslim quarter where I thought my two guides
were going to pray more, but they must be waiting for me to return to
the hotel first as they refrained from doing so, possibly because we
were short of time and I politely declined the offer to remove my
shoes, socks and go inside and pray myself. I hope I did not offend or
insult them by not doing this, and as they seemed cool with me before
and after I like to think that I didn't, but you never can tell.
The Ampel Mosque and prayer areas were full of people paying their
respects and I learned about the cleaner who died and returned to life
seven times before he finally died of old age the eighth time and for
his ceaseless cleaning of the area he was given his own gravestone
here.
Along the area was a mini bazarre where there was plenty of cheap
stalls where you could buy just about anything but I refrained from
eating the food when I saw that the sellers were so bored that they
didn't even bother to try and shoe away the flies who happily sat
muching on the sweet buns and cakes that were being sold.
The Red Bridge was smaller than I expected, though its historical
claim to faim is the site where the British Brigadier General Mallaby
was killed and not for its impressive size or complex structural
design, so perhaps I should not complain too much, and when we passed
by the cities oldest best hotel on Tunjungan Street my guides got out
and got permission for me for us to park and for me to take a few
photos which was nice of them.
The next stop was te Cheng Hoo Mosque, which is a Muslim mosque thats
architecture is based on the traditional Chinese Pagoda style and
makes a rather unique place to visit. The place was empty of people
praying, possibly because of the rain, and I made a small faux pax by
standing on the very edge of the floor with my shoes, while I was
trying to get around a puddle in order to take a better picture of the
inside.
Reported to be the oldest Buddha temple in Java, the Joko Dolog Statue
was only minutes away from my hotel and yet I had missed it when I
walked past it the night before due to its use falling into decline
with the more modern and largest temples being created. It was a big
shame that the gates to this shrine were locked but the gates were
close enough to the statue itself for me to still get a photo of the
inside.
After a couple more drive past photo opportunities were ruined by the
rain, we stopped at our second to last rest at a place where they make
Batik, the artwork cloth of the region that is all hand made by a
group of women sitting round a boiling vat of strange waxing tar
substance while they work on reverse painting the material.
The place didnt smell half as bad as I expected and the artwork that
they could achieve through patience and skill was amazing, and I
especially liked one which had the Indonesian islands as the central
motif, and had I been on holiday instead of travelling through I am
sure that I would have bought some.
Despite its small size of the home grown factory, this smal business
take orders from all over Indonesia, even in the other major cities
like Jakarta, and they are currently fighting a cultural battle with
Malaysia to prove where the Batik first originated from, much like the
minor disputes between neighbouring countries in both central and
south america.
The final stop was just a few minutes later and here was a large
Handicraft indoor market which had plenty of nice souveneirs on sale,
and it was here that I saw a postcard that had a picture of the Worlds
Largest Buddhis Stupa, which was breathtaking and apparently was
considered to be a wonder of the world up until they were reclassified
in 2008. This one postcard put me in a bit of a downer as I realised
that this was exactly the sort of thing that I wanted to visit while
here in Indonesia and that I had in effect missed a great opportunity
by spending my days in big cities like Jakarta and Surabaya instead of
heading on over to this place.
My only clouds silver lining is that of course I bought the postcard,
but more than that, as now I know that it exists, depending on what
else happens here in the far east I might just have time to visit here
before leaving the region although of course I wont have time to do it
before I leave for Singpaore tomorrow lunchtime.
Minutes later I was back at my hotel and then spent the rest of the
day eating sweets, drafting this blog entry and ensuring that I was
all ready to leave for the airport tomorrow.
Friday, 6 February 2009
A better second day in Surabaya, Indonesia
Breakfast in the hotel was from 6 til 10 and with the a wide variety
of asian cuisine to chose from I had plenty of noodles, rice, chicken
and assorted vegetables piled on my plate ready to fill myself up for
the day ahead.
The hotel gives out vouchers that can be exchanged for the breakfast,
I assume to stop just anyone wandering in and helping themselves, and
is similar to what I saw back in Jakarta and a few other places. I
have no idea what other countries do to their milk, or perhaps
reversely what the UK does to its milk, but it often seems to taste
very differently, making a bowl of cereal a horrid experience and even
ruining an otherwise perfect cup of tea.
I remember last night that I asked the taxi driver what kind of hotel
the Sahib was, for him to say it was for domestic business travellers
and not really for international guests and so it was no surprise to
find myself the only westerner in the place. What I hadn't appreciated
fully was that as it was for domestic business travellers the tour
information would all be in Indonesian and while there was a tour desk
all the offers were for parties of 4 or more and they had no maps of
the city, asuming that no body would need one and that the taxi
drivers ( which every businessman uses ) would know exactly how to get
to wherever a function or meeting was being held.
So for me, it was not going to be as easy as I had hoped and when I
checked a few websites on surabaya then only wanted to show where was
good to stay or to eat which reinforced in my mind that Surabaya,
despite being the Indonesian island of Java's second largest city,
does not have a lot on offer for the international tourist.
A wider map of the entire area did show that the island had a few
dormant volcanoes to the south and some smaller islands just off the
north coast that on a longer trip here might be interesting to visit
but for the few days that I have it would take longer to get there and
back than I would have to enjoy, especially as I would still have to
find what to do and where to stay once I reached them.
So for me it was more a case of asking the receptionist which was the
nearest shopping mall was and then using that as a guide to get me to
a commercial districts and going from there. Thankfully the rain
stayed away for the day however it was still very overcast and cloudy
so taking photos would still not be ideal, but then still being near
the end of the rainy season it was much better than it could have
been.
With the population significantly less than it was in Jakarta, finding
space to walk on the pavements was not a big problem, but avoiding the
rubble, uncovered drain holes and tuk tuk drivers was still proved to
be dangerous to the unobservant.
As I walked through the day I found myself drawing more and more
looks, and considering that I was not wearing anything too special I
concluded that it must be because I am white, and although at first
the phenomenon had a novelty charm it quickly wore off and soon became
quite uneering to know that every face that passed me gave me far more
attention than I normally warrant.
Groups of school girls would giggle as I passed, most taxi drivers or
cyclist for hire would call out to me long after I had shook my head
and moved on and at one point I almost caused some guy to collide with
a lampost as his eyes were fixated on me and not on where he was
walking.
The first mall that I reached was almost a relief and it was weird
that here within meters of locals stall sellers far below the poverty
line was modern designer shops and restaurants where one meal would be
more than the average workers weekly wage. It was a fairly small mall,
without a cinema or more than a few stories high and so soon enough I
had exhausted its character and moved on to the next one.
A little further down the road and I spotted another and this one
looked much bigger, more promising and so once more I ventured forth
and popped into a few stores to see what it was like. The mall was in
three parts and the design was fairly unique as the land and the
layout was not level so although you could use the lift or esculators
to go from one level to the next, you could also do it just by doing a
larger circuit all the while gently ascending or descending with
perhaps just a few steps thrown in here or there.
Finding a movie to watch killed a few hours and afterwards I just did
a bit of food and cosmetic shopping before retracing my route back to
the hotel, on the way on the lookout for anything I had missed the
first time round, my bag of goodies including a large bottle of coke,
sweets, crisps and chocolate all coming to no more than £3 uk money,
stocking up on late night movie snacks so as to not pay heavy hotel
costs.
Near the hotel I saw a place that said it was a mixed hairdressers,
spa and foot massage place and having nothing better to do and not
being in too much of a rust to get back I decided to go in and get a
reflexology massage.
I think that anyone who goes into a place like this when it is empty
should be prepared for anything as the guy who worked there was either
bored, gay or loved his job way too much as I have never had a foot
massage where the masseuse works his way up your entire leg. Still
being fully clothed, except having removed my socks, I was fairly
confortable that he would not try anything untoward, but by the middle
of the massage he was almost up to my belt line and if could have
understood english I would have had a few words for him, but as he
didnt I just wanted him to get it over and done with so I could leave.
Then all of a sudden he grabbed hold of one of my arms and started
working his way up my shoulders, which has got to be about as far away
from the foot on a persons body as you can possibly be and once he got
near my neck I had to call it off, using my hands to physcially
prevent him going any further. The price for this most unusual 'foot'
massage was 60,000.
The only other thing of any interest before I returned to my hotel was
to note that the place had plenty of mosquitos around, and I asked one
of the females who worked there and spoke English if they were just a
pest in the rainy season or all year round and the answer was that
they are a constant pain.
I also asked her what locals do during the evenings and weekends and
she said just go home and sleep, but this didnt really help me much so
I continued on to wonder what was there to see in Surabaya and her
instant reply was nothing!
Giving up on the line of questions I just headed on back to the hotel
where I just munched on my horde of goodies while watching reruns of
US shows and old movies before I did a big of blogging and then sleep.
of asian cuisine to chose from I had plenty of noodles, rice, chicken
and assorted vegetables piled on my plate ready to fill myself up for
the day ahead.
The hotel gives out vouchers that can be exchanged for the breakfast,
I assume to stop just anyone wandering in and helping themselves, and
is similar to what I saw back in Jakarta and a few other places. I
have no idea what other countries do to their milk, or perhaps
reversely what the UK does to its milk, but it often seems to taste
very differently, making a bowl of cereal a horrid experience and even
ruining an otherwise perfect cup of tea.
I remember last night that I asked the taxi driver what kind of hotel
the Sahib was, for him to say it was for domestic business travellers
and not really for international guests and so it was no surprise to
find myself the only westerner in the place. What I hadn't appreciated
fully was that as it was for domestic business travellers the tour
information would all be in Indonesian and while there was a tour desk
all the offers were for parties of 4 or more and they had no maps of
the city, asuming that no body would need one and that the taxi
drivers ( which every businessman uses ) would know exactly how to get
to wherever a function or meeting was being held.
So for me, it was not going to be as easy as I had hoped and when I
checked a few websites on surabaya then only wanted to show where was
good to stay or to eat which reinforced in my mind that Surabaya,
despite being the Indonesian island of Java's second largest city,
does not have a lot on offer for the international tourist.
A wider map of the entire area did show that the island had a few
dormant volcanoes to the south and some smaller islands just off the
north coast that on a longer trip here might be interesting to visit
but for the few days that I have it would take longer to get there and
back than I would have to enjoy, especially as I would still have to
find what to do and where to stay once I reached them.
So for me it was more a case of asking the receptionist which was the
nearest shopping mall was and then using that as a guide to get me to
a commercial districts and going from there. Thankfully the rain
stayed away for the day however it was still very overcast and cloudy
so taking photos would still not be ideal, but then still being near
the end of the rainy season it was much better than it could have
been.
With the population significantly less than it was in Jakarta, finding
space to walk on the pavements was not a big problem, but avoiding the
rubble, uncovered drain holes and tuk tuk drivers was still proved to
be dangerous to the unobservant.
As I walked through the day I found myself drawing more and more
looks, and considering that I was not wearing anything too special I
concluded that it must be because I am white, and although at first
the phenomenon had a novelty charm it quickly wore off and soon became
quite uneering to know that every face that passed me gave me far more
attention than I normally warrant.
Groups of school girls would giggle as I passed, most taxi drivers or
cyclist for hire would call out to me long after I had shook my head
and moved on and at one point I almost caused some guy to collide with
a lampost as his eyes were fixated on me and not on where he was
walking.
The first mall that I reached was almost a relief and it was weird
that here within meters of locals stall sellers far below the poverty
line was modern designer shops and restaurants where one meal would be
more than the average workers weekly wage. It was a fairly small mall,
without a cinema or more than a few stories high and so soon enough I
had exhausted its character and moved on to the next one.
A little further down the road and I spotted another and this one
looked much bigger, more promising and so once more I ventured forth
and popped into a few stores to see what it was like. The mall was in
three parts and the design was fairly unique as the land and the
layout was not level so although you could use the lift or esculators
to go from one level to the next, you could also do it just by doing a
larger circuit all the while gently ascending or descending with
perhaps just a few steps thrown in here or there.
Finding a movie to watch killed a few hours and afterwards I just did
a bit of food and cosmetic shopping before retracing my route back to
the hotel, on the way on the lookout for anything I had missed the
first time round, my bag of goodies including a large bottle of coke,
sweets, crisps and chocolate all coming to no more than £3 uk money,
stocking up on late night movie snacks so as to not pay heavy hotel
costs.
Near the hotel I saw a place that said it was a mixed hairdressers,
spa and foot massage place and having nothing better to do and not
being in too much of a rust to get back I decided to go in and get a
reflexology massage.
I think that anyone who goes into a place like this when it is empty
should be prepared for anything as the guy who worked there was either
bored, gay or loved his job way too much as I have never had a foot
massage where the masseuse works his way up your entire leg. Still
being fully clothed, except having removed my socks, I was fairly
confortable that he would not try anything untoward, but by the middle
of the massage he was almost up to my belt line and if could have
understood english I would have had a few words for him, but as he
didnt I just wanted him to get it over and done with so I could leave.
Then all of a sudden he grabbed hold of one of my arms and started
working his way up my shoulders, which has got to be about as far away
from the foot on a persons body as you can possibly be and once he got
near my neck I had to call it off, using my hands to physcially
prevent him going any further. The price for this most unusual 'foot'
massage was 60,000.
The only other thing of any interest before I returned to my hotel was
to note that the place had plenty of mosquitos around, and I asked one
of the females who worked there and spoke English if they were just a
pest in the rainy season or all year round and the answer was that
they are a constant pain.
I also asked her what locals do during the evenings and weekends and
she said just go home and sleep, but this didnt really help me much so
I continued on to wonder what was there to see in Surabaya and her
instant reply was nothing!
Giving up on the line of questions I just headed on back to the hotel
where I just munched on my horde of goodies while watching reruns of
US shows and old movies before I did a big of blogging and then sleep.
Goodbye Jakarta, Hello Surabaya
The rest of yesterday was not much more than a boring blur, as the minutes stretched into hours and they slowly gave way to night through hours of watching television, movies and trying in vain to get anything online sorted out.
I did manage to backup to disc the rest of my photos for Decemeber and January and then after receiving word form my sister, delete the photos from the first three months which has freed up a lot of space on my hard drive, but as for venturing outside the hotel or even feeling 100% I must say that it was not so much of a success.
Not that I would have been able to see much had I tried to venture outside as the weather turned to cloud and fog with occasional downpours from as early as 4pm and with it getting dark around 6pm I would have spend more time in taxi's and trafic jam than I would have actually visiting places.
Jakarta is one of those places that is too big to see or find you way around without a few maps, knowledge of the local bs routes and plenty of research to find out where you want to visit and how best to get there.
I have heard through various sources that the begging in Jakarta can be as bad as that in places like India or Egypt, but from my experience it was not on the same leve, or at least the bus station, hotel, streets and airport were not as bad, which amounts to pretty much the same thing.
For my last meal in Jakarta I decided to go to the restaurant instead of ordering room service yet again, but was sadly let down by the service which was slow and not as attentive or as friendly as it had been the day before and the prices made no real sense.
I have always been a hater of illogical prices, so it was extra frustrating to order a fruit tart that said it was 20,000 to then receive a bill of 25,000 plus a further 2,500 as tax on top. I mean, what is the point of showing a price if what you pay bares no similarity to it, you may as well just make a price off your head. Its like those stupid offers in superstore windows offering up to 60% off, only to find that everything you actually want is only with a lousy 10% discount and the "up to 60%" only applies if you are an OAP who comes after 4pm on the third Sunday in the month and wants the smallest oldest cut of the meat, just bloody frustrating and a waste of time.
I have never been a fan of advertiement people, feeling that they lie as much as politicians, and if I had my way then the lot of them would be rounded up and publically flogged to within an inch of their lives and told never to ply their deceptions arts again.
I went to sleep around 10pm, not having to wake til around 7am, but due to a slight hitch back in the UK I was up part of the night on the phone, all in the name of a worth cause though so its ok, and having had a boring and dull day I wasn't really that tired anyway.
Waking up on time, I decided against delaying my departure to have breakfast even though it was free, and instead I just sorted myself out, settled my bill and left. One surprising thing about the bill, again to do with price, was the varying cost of a can of fizzy drink. In the bar downstairs a poured glass of coke from a 2 litre bottle cost me 31, 000, when I had it as part of a room service meal it was 25,000 yet when I took a can from the poorly stocked minibar it was only 12,000. Why the three prices for the same drink in the same hotel I have no idea, but then its all just fun and games really.
I think that I should have picked up my rucksack and walked across the road before I got in a taxi to take me to the train station as the location of the hotel on a main highway meant that by the time it reached a place where it could turn around and come back the metered fare was already up to 12,000 and it had only taken me 15,000 to get here in the first place. By the time I reached the trainstation I had to pay 25,000 and a further 280,000 for a executive class train ticket to Surabaya.
If I could have spoke better indonesian I guess I could have asked for a cheaper seat, but at only 20,000 difference and the quality of seats and service is much reduced so for the 10 hour train tide it wasn't worth saving the £1. The train was almost a half hour late in leaving and the station staff rudely demanded a tip for showing me to my seat, but he got far less than the 40,000 he was asking, the nerve of it. I only really even followed because I made the mistake of allowing a local to strike up a conversation with me and he in turn told the guard to show me to my seat, at which point i was sort of commited, though I didnt realise that he was going to try and ask for a tip for such a small favour.
My other mistake was having my 1,000 notes all wrapped up in 5,000 notes as I only intended on giving him 2,000 but when the 5,000s came out I couldnt really take them back, though the way he almost broke my rucksack into two by cramming it in the overhead storage space was almost enough to make my blood boil.
The rain was back with a vengence and by the time the train got half an hour along the tracks it looked dark enough to be almost night and the rain was pounding the windows plenty. The train company were sly in sending around a pretty young female to take purchase orders of food barely half an hour before they brough round the standard tray of light refreshments, much like airline food, though to be honest hte prices were reasonable and a can of coke on here was only 7,000 - barely half of even the cheapest of the prices that the hotel had charged me.
The seat that I was allocated was faulty in that you couldnt sit in it and not have it fall into the full reclining position, which made comfortable watching the ontrain entertainment impossible though once I saw the poor quality of what was being shown and the fact that they kept interrupting it for advert breaks it was almost a blessing.
What did surprise me in a good way, was that all the seats in executive class have twin power sockets next to them just below the window tables and so I was able to plug in my laptop and watch the couple of dvd's that I bought in Singapore which were far better quality than the run of the mill gore fest military action flick where everything explodes when its hit by a bullet.
After the two movies I did a bit of blogging updating and then as I had plenty of time left to kill I chose to watch on the films a second time, especially as although I was told that it arrives at 7:58pm it was running so late that it didnt come in til 9:25pm.
My contact in Surabaya did the familiar "oh my god, your really here, i never thought you would, I ... er ... actually I'm not all that comfortable to meet you right now, sorry, I was just being polite. I hope you enjoy your time in my city but I'm afraid I am not able to meet you at the train station, or your hotel, or at all even. But I hope we can still keep in touch as friends!!!" bollocks, so I had to make my own way from the station to my hotel.
Needless to say that this latest bit of news did not go down too well with me, especially as I had been sending emails and texts to them on a regular basis over and moreso recently to make sure that everything was still on so to get this news as my train pulled up in the station was about the biggest kick in the balls I could have got.
The hotel was nice, with a big billiard table and it would have been better if it was straight and not lopsided. I played a few games, for 5,000 an hour which suddenly jumped to "no, no 25,000 an hour, sorry you must have misheard me" which is still not a lot but its 5 times more than I was expecting and I would have done something more about the wabble and played longer if i had of known.
Around midnigth I went to sleep.
I did manage to backup to disc the rest of my photos for Decemeber and January and then after receiving word form my sister, delete the photos from the first three months which has freed up a lot of space on my hard drive, but as for venturing outside the hotel or even feeling 100% I must say that it was not so much of a success.
Not that I would have been able to see much had I tried to venture outside as the weather turned to cloud and fog with occasional downpours from as early as 4pm and with it getting dark around 6pm I would have spend more time in taxi's and trafic jam than I would have actually visiting places.
Jakarta is one of those places that is too big to see or find you way around without a few maps, knowledge of the local bs routes and plenty of research to find out where you want to visit and how best to get there.
I have heard through various sources that the begging in Jakarta can be as bad as that in places like India or Egypt, but from my experience it was not on the same leve, or at least the bus station, hotel, streets and airport were not as bad, which amounts to pretty much the same thing.
For my last meal in Jakarta I decided to go to the restaurant instead of ordering room service yet again, but was sadly let down by the service which was slow and not as attentive or as friendly as it had been the day before and the prices made no real sense.
I have always been a hater of illogical prices, so it was extra frustrating to order a fruit tart that said it was 20,000 to then receive a bill of 25,000 plus a further 2,500 as tax on top. I mean, what is the point of showing a price if what you pay bares no similarity to it, you may as well just make a price off your head. Its like those stupid offers in superstore windows offering up to 60% off, only to find that everything you actually want is only with a lousy 10% discount and the "up to 60%" only applies if you are an OAP who comes after 4pm on the third Sunday in the month and wants the smallest oldest cut of the meat, just bloody frustrating and a waste of time.
I have never been a fan of advertiement people, feeling that they lie as much as politicians, and if I had my way then the lot of them would be rounded up and publically flogged to within an inch of their lives and told never to ply their deceptions arts again.
I went to sleep around 10pm, not having to wake til around 7am, but due to a slight hitch back in the UK I was up part of the night on the phone, all in the name of a worth cause though so its ok, and having had a boring and dull day I wasn't really that tired anyway.
Waking up on time, I decided against delaying my departure to have breakfast even though it was free, and instead I just sorted myself out, settled my bill and left. One surprising thing about the bill, again to do with price, was the varying cost of a can of fizzy drink. In the bar downstairs a poured glass of coke from a 2 litre bottle cost me 31, 000, when I had it as part of a room service meal it was 25,000 yet when I took a can from the poorly stocked minibar it was only 12,000. Why the three prices for the same drink in the same hotel I have no idea, but then its all just fun and games really.
I think that I should have picked up my rucksack and walked across the road before I got in a taxi to take me to the train station as the location of the hotel on a main highway meant that by the time it reached a place where it could turn around and come back the metered fare was already up to 12,000 and it had only taken me 15,000 to get here in the first place. By the time I reached the trainstation I had to pay 25,000 and a further 280,000 for a executive class train ticket to Surabaya.
If I could have spoke better indonesian I guess I could have asked for a cheaper seat, but at only 20,000 difference and the quality of seats and service is much reduced so for the 10 hour train tide it wasn't worth saving the £1. The train was almost a half hour late in leaving and the station staff rudely demanded a tip for showing me to my seat, but he got far less than the 40,000 he was asking, the nerve of it. I only really even followed because I made the mistake of allowing a local to strike up a conversation with me and he in turn told the guard to show me to my seat, at which point i was sort of commited, though I didnt realise that he was going to try and ask for a tip for such a small favour.
My other mistake was having my 1,000 notes all wrapped up in 5,000 notes as I only intended on giving him 2,000 but when the 5,000s came out I couldnt really take them back, though the way he almost broke my rucksack into two by cramming it in the overhead storage space was almost enough to make my blood boil.
The rain was back with a vengence and by the time the train got half an hour along the tracks it looked dark enough to be almost night and the rain was pounding the windows plenty. The train company were sly in sending around a pretty young female to take purchase orders of food barely half an hour before they brough round the standard tray of light refreshments, much like airline food, though to be honest hte prices were reasonable and a can of coke on here was only 7,000 - barely half of even the cheapest of the prices that the hotel had charged me.
The seat that I was allocated was faulty in that you couldnt sit in it and not have it fall into the full reclining position, which made comfortable watching the ontrain entertainment impossible though once I saw the poor quality of what was being shown and the fact that they kept interrupting it for advert breaks it was almost a blessing.
What did surprise me in a good way, was that all the seats in executive class have twin power sockets next to them just below the window tables and so I was able to plug in my laptop and watch the couple of dvd's that I bought in Singapore which were far better quality than the run of the mill gore fest military action flick where everything explodes when its hit by a bullet.
After the two movies I did a bit of blogging updating and then as I had plenty of time left to kill I chose to watch on the films a second time, especially as although I was told that it arrives at 7:58pm it was running so late that it didnt come in til 9:25pm.
My contact in Surabaya did the familiar "oh my god, your really here, i never thought you would, I ... er ... actually I'm not all that comfortable to meet you right now, sorry, I was just being polite. I hope you enjoy your time in my city but I'm afraid I am not able to meet you at the train station, or your hotel, or at all even. But I hope we can still keep in touch as friends!!!" bollocks, so I had to make my own way from the station to my hotel.
Needless to say that this latest bit of news did not go down too well with me, especially as I had been sending emails and texts to them on a regular basis over and moreso recently to make sure that everything was still on so to get this news as my train pulled up in the station was about the biggest kick in the balls I could have got.
The hotel was nice, with a big billiard table and it would have been better if it was straight and not lopsided. I played a few games, for 5,000 an hour which suddenly jumped to "no, no 25,000 an hour, sorry you must have misheard me" which is still not a lot but its 5 times more than I was expecting and I would have done something more about the wabble and played longer if i had of known.
Around midnigth I went to sleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)