In the steps of Javan rhino
Can you imagine how people felt to see the group of white men crossing their villages at the end of 13th century as Marco Polo was making his way through China. A white man, something unseen before!
Well, I do not aspire to call myself Marco Polo but when reaching some remote places on this planet I feel like in the shoes of one of these first western explorers. In those remote places you are not treated as a tourist but as a honored guest! People open their hearts and their homes to you not because you have deep pockets but because they are interested in you. You mostly don’t find those places in a guide book and information in English are sparse.
Here is the dilemma, should I tell YOU about these places I found? Next year maybe there will be buses of tourists going that way and this place looses the magic!
Hundreds of languages
It was really a bumpy drive. The minibus was bouncing from side to side for past 6 hours — my butt was really painful now. The three guys on the roof managed to survive a downpour of water which would probably cause the city of Madrid to break and turn the metro tunnels into sewers.
The woman glued to me on the seat with her child in the lap noted jalan rusak, broken road. I tried to repeat and the whole bus had a laugh from my broken Indonesian pronunciation. By now I learned new words for hat — topi , sunglasses — kacamata, tire — ban, broken tire — ban rusak.
Indonesia is rich culturally and is super interesting linguistically. There are more than 300 active languages on this archipelago. In this part the native language is actually Sundanese. Despite all this, the nation could have been united under one flag and one language. There was certainly rough road towards one Indonesia.
Yes, we managed to punch one of the tires. No problem here. We stopped in one village to buy a vent and in other village by the repair shop. They lifted the bus with all people sweating inside, took the tire out, have it patched and put it back.
Paradise on Earth
It was a huge relieve to get out of that bus after 8 hours en route and finally stretch our legs. We arrived in a paradise.
Our destination was a small village called Tamanjaya — glorious garden. The sole purpose of this journey was to explore the jungle of national park Ujung Kulon — the first national park in Indonesia and the home of almost extinct Javanese rhino. Not so many non-Indonesian people make their way here, it is good two-day ride away from Jakarta, the nearest tourist destination.
We sailed early next morning for the most western tip of the Javan island. We had a full crew for the trip: the captain of the boat, the fisherman, and the guide.
Ok, we did not actually sail. They use motors these days but I am trying to be poetic here :-).
The area is rich quite fished area and there is many fishing platforms — small floating houses where fishermen spend their nights. They use light to attract small fishes which are trapped in the fishing nets. All the platforms are very similar, almost like they were all built by the same hands.
Soon we saw the impenetrable jungle lined with white sand beach. Fascinating sight together with some literally flocks of fishes flying above the waves.
This was the relaxing day on the island Pulau Peucang watching animals and chilling on the beach. We anchored our boat near by a savana opening of the jungle where an impressive black bull was managing his herd of cows dancing with some peacocks.
We departed early next morning. The journey took us through the jungle and then along the southern beach. Winds were so high, fishermen had to break for the day as there were . The monkeys had a knock today as well as the tall trees were swaying dangerously from side to side.
The rhino must be very impressive when it accelerates to 50 km/h. Eventually, there was no sight of a rhino but honestly I was not expecting that. I went here to see the habitat and I got to see steps and poops along the trail. Both are just huge.
The next day we got a glimpse of a small croc warming up in the sun just 20m away. It swiftly jumped into the turbid water of river when noticing us. We still had to ford the river…
Hello Mistrrrrrr
I decided to walk back from Tamanjaya on my own the worst part of the road — the jalan rusak. It was good 20 km along rice fields, villages, and beaches. Looking back this was the best part.
This road is very much alive particularly in the morning. Kids on foot are heading to school which may be as far as 5 km away. The older kids going to high school must head up to Labuan which is 4 hours on minibus. Most do it every day as it is too expensive to stay there over nights. The road is frequented by bikes and scooters of all shapes, sizes, and cargo.
Of course everyone is curious about this weird white guy who is WALKING. For Indonesians white person, male or female, is Mistrrr. From left to right there was no spot I would not be hearing Hello Mistrrrr. Those who could say at least few words in English stopped byto exchange short conversation. And all the guys loved my Decathlon cycling sunglasses. Perhaps I take few pairs next time as a gift.
I was invited into a primary school. They even convinced me to play volleyball with them — I tried to explain I suck. I didn’t know that it can be a good thing because the whole school got a show and they had a good laugh about my skill.
