About a year ago, I developed a serious addiction to Lost. I devoured all six seasons in three short months – I was hooked. Wandering around the shores of the tiny islands that make up Karimunjawa this past weekend, I half-expected Jack or Kate to come running out onto the shore at any minute. The islands were almost straight off the small screen – crystal clear water with shades of turquoise, greens and blues, palm trees and rolling green hills lining the coasts and endless stretches of pure white sand. Amazing.
Like most adventures in Indonesia, the trek to Karimunjawa was impossibly long (which may be a good thing as I’m sure it reduces the number of tourists descending upon the islands). After two buses, a ferry ride and twenty long hours, we arrived on the shores of the main island... and were greeted by rain and grey skies. Great.
But despite the rain clouds, which ignored our prayers and didn’t let up all weekend, the landscapes were amazing. The largest island is home to about three thousand people but you’d never guess from the atmosphere. A tiny paved road or two twists along the island, past small, one-floor houses, a few shops and dozens of chickens and cats. The twenty-six other islands are like dots of sand and palm trees with little more than a family or two living on its shores. If this isn’t the definition of paradise, I don’t know what is.
We stayed in Karimujawa for three nights at a homestay near the harbour, which doubled as our guide’s office (Alex, who was hilarious and had an underwater camera – double score). Each morning, we awoke to roosters wandering around the beach in our backyard and dined on rice, vegetables, tempe, eggs and jasmine tea on the raised, hut-like platform near the sea beside the house. Afterwards we loaded onto the boat with Alex and his crew for a morning of island hopping and snorkelling.
Karimunjawa is a marine national park and I have never in my life seen anything as stunning as what lays under its waters. The coral reefs were like underwater forests with fish and sea life of all colours – neon blues, lime greens, salmon pinks, bright oranges, vivid yellows - living in their shelter. I can only imagine what the scenes would have looked like had the sun been shining through the water.
After a solid morning of exploring the reefs, we’d pulled up to one of the dozens of tiny islands for lunch. The boys would immediately get to work cutting up red and green peppers and onions that would later be crushed into a spicy paste called sambal (something I’m convinced no Indonesian can live without). Freshly caught fish were laid out on a grill over a fire of coconut husks, cooking and absorbing the flavours of the smoke. When the meal was ready (it was nice having men cook for the women for a change), we’d spread out a mat on the grass and dig in, Indonesian style (with our hands). Eating rice, vegetables and whole-grilled fish with your fingers is no easy feat but it was somehow so satisfying to be sitting on the ground beside the ocean, scooping up food with your hands and washing up in the seawater afterward.
After dinner and an hour or two of chilling out and exploring the shores, we’d head out on the boat again. Over the two days we were there, we stopped at a sand bar in the middle of the ocean, snorkelled at four coral reefs, swam in an enclosure with white-tipped sharks and sea turtles, and wandered around the beaches of four different islands. Unfortunately the sun never did break through the clouds and at times it was even cold (yes, cold!) out on the water, even bundled up in a sarong and rain jacket (although some of us still managed to get sunburns). But, we celebrated Mafalda’s 25th birthday with a cold Bintang (local beer) on the beach and spent both days in a bikini, with sand on our feet and seawater in our hair. I don’t know if life can really get better than that.
After lunch, we’d stretch out on the boat and relax to the roll of the waves (or hold on for dear life, depending on the weather) en route to another coral reef or island. Once the sun started going down in the sky, we’d return from a day on the water, shower (with cold water, as per usual) and relax before dining out in the backyard. Fish was almost always on the menu, as was rice, but the food was home cooked and not unbearably spicy (after tasting a few dishes Lombok, I’m now skeptical about typical island dishes – it really seems the more water you’re surrounded by, the higher your pain threshold should be). Anyway, as it always goes, any food eaten outdoors, even with random insects, cats and chickens coming to investigate, always tastes better.
On Monday morning, we awoke to catch the ferry only to see the first few glimpses of blue sky. Apparently luck was not in our favour that weekend but that only shows just how beautiful Karimunjawa is, rain or no rain. We set off on the ferry and did our best to kill the time among the groups of entire families stretched out on the floor amid food wrappers and other trash. Nearly 24 hours later, we were back in Malang and preparing for our next adventure.
My Indonesian visa is valid for one year, but for whatever the reason, I can only stay in the country for 60 days at a time. It sounds incredibly inconvenient but also gives me a fantastic excuse to go abroad for a while. This weekend marks the end of the project, my 60-day limit, and my halfway point here, so we’re catching a (fifteen-hour-long) train to spend the weekend in Jakarta with Margit, Sarah, Mafalda and Vinicius. After what I’m guessing will be three hot and chaotic days in the nation’s capital, Margit, Sarah and I are off to Singapore, where I’ll be able to meet up with Wini, JS and Kunali (old friends who studied on exchange at my university).
After three days in Singapore, we’ll spend a day in Melaka, Malaysia and then finally end the trip at Kuala Lumpur. I’ll part ways with Sarah and Margit as they head to Bali with Margit’s little sister, who’s flying in from the Netherlands, and spend my last three days in KL travelling solo before flying back to Indonesia. Then, after a week spent back in Malang, Steph and her friend will arrive and I’ll be off once again. Needless to say, the month of April will fly by!
Like most adventures in Indonesia, the trek to Karimunjawa was impossibly long (which may be a good thing as I’m sure it reduces the number of tourists descending upon the islands). After two buses, a ferry ride and twenty long hours, we arrived on the shores of the main island... and were greeted by rain and grey skies. Great.
But despite the rain clouds, which ignored our prayers and didn’t let up all weekend, the landscapes were amazing. The largest island is home to about three thousand people but you’d never guess from the atmosphere. A tiny paved road or two twists along the island, past small, one-floor houses, a few shops and dozens of chickens and cats. The twenty-six other islands are like dots of sand and palm trees with little more than a family or two living on its shores. If this isn’t the definition of paradise, I don’t know what is.
We stayed in Karimujawa for three nights at a homestay near the harbour, which doubled as our guide’s office (Alex, who was hilarious and had an underwater camera – double score). Each morning, we awoke to roosters wandering around the beach in our backyard and dined on rice, vegetables, tempe, eggs and jasmine tea on the raised, hut-like platform near the sea beside the house. Afterwards we loaded onto the boat with Alex and his crew for a morning of island hopping and snorkelling.
Karimunjawa is a marine national park and I have never in my life seen anything as stunning as what lays under its waters. The coral reefs were like underwater forests with fish and sea life of all colours – neon blues, lime greens, salmon pinks, bright oranges, vivid yellows - living in their shelter. I can only imagine what the scenes would have looked like had the sun been shining through the water.
After a solid morning of exploring the reefs, we’d pulled up to one of the dozens of tiny islands for lunch. The boys would immediately get to work cutting up red and green peppers and onions that would later be crushed into a spicy paste called sambal (something I’m convinced no Indonesian can live without). Freshly caught fish were laid out on a grill over a fire of coconut husks, cooking and absorbing the flavours of the smoke. When the meal was ready (it was nice having men cook for the women for a change), we’d spread out a mat on the grass and dig in, Indonesian style (with our hands). Eating rice, vegetables and whole-grilled fish with your fingers is no easy feat but it was somehow so satisfying to be sitting on the ground beside the ocean, scooping up food with your hands and washing up in the seawater afterward.
After dinner and an hour or two of chilling out and exploring the shores, we’d head out on the boat again. Over the two days we were there, we stopped at a sand bar in the middle of the ocean, snorkelled at four coral reefs, swam in an enclosure with white-tipped sharks and sea turtles, and wandered around the beaches of four different islands. Unfortunately the sun never did break through the clouds and at times it was even cold (yes, cold!) out on the water, even bundled up in a sarong and rain jacket (although some of us still managed to get sunburns). But, we celebrated Mafalda’s 25th birthday with a cold Bintang (local beer) on the beach and spent both days in a bikini, with sand on our feet and seawater in our hair. I don’t know if life can really get better than that.
After lunch, we’d stretch out on the boat and relax to the roll of the waves (or hold on for dear life, depending on the weather) en route to another coral reef or island. Once the sun started going down in the sky, we’d return from a day on the water, shower (with cold water, as per usual) and relax before dining out in the backyard. Fish was almost always on the menu, as was rice, but the food was home cooked and not unbearably spicy (after tasting a few dishes Lombok, I’m now skeptical about typical island dishes – it really seems the more water you’re surrounded by, the higher your pain threshold should be). Anyway, as it always goes, any food eaten outdoors, even with random insects, cats and chickens coming to investigate, always tastes better.
On Monday morning, we awoke to catch the ferry only to see the first few glimpses of blue sky. Apparently luck was not in our favour that weekend but that only shows just how beautiful Karimunjawa is, rain or no rain. We set off on the ferry and did our best to kill the time among the groups of entire families stretched out on the floor amid food wrappers and other trash. Nearly 24 hours later, we were back in Malang and preparing for our next adventure.
My Indonesian visa is valid for one year, but for whatever the reason, I can only stay in the country for 60 days at a time. It sounds incredibly inconvenient but also gives me a fantastic excuse to go abroad for a while. This weekend marks the end of the project, my 60-day limit, and my halfway point here, so we’re catching a (fifteen-hour-long) train to spend the weekend in Jakarta with Margit, Sarah, Mafalda and Vinicius. After what I’m guessing will be three hot and chaotic days in the nation’s capital, Margit, Sarah and I are off to Singapore, where I’ll be able to meet up with Wini, JS and Kunali (old friends who studied on exchange at my university).
After three days in Singapore, we’ll spend a day in Melaka, Malaysia and then finally end the trip at Kuala Lumpur. I’ll part ways with Sarah and Margit as they head to Bali with Margit’s little sister, who’s flying in from the Netherlands, and spend my last three days in KL travelling solo before flying back to Indonesia. Then, after a week spent back in Malang, Steph and her friend will arrive and I’ll be off once again. Needless to say, the month of April will fly by!
Wonderful writing about your wonderful adventures! It sounds like you're learning exponentially with every passing day. I can't wait to see what you do next :)
ReplyDelete