After a long and restful stay in the wonderful land of Bali, the adventurous duo set out yet again for another journey to a less forgiving island (Java that is). We arrived at Denpasar's famed Ubung bus station and were immediately accosted by a dozen men offering their transportation services. "Surabaya, 200,000 rupiah." We bartered with them and settled on a price to take us through the ferry to the other side. After entering the bus, we passed by some people tending their pet birds, exchanged glances, and sat down.
And so it began...
And went...
And went...
Luckily, Merriam Bellina (who? I duno...) was playing her much sought after 80s love ballad karaoke jams on loop on the bus TV. I believe we looped through about 10 times. Great torture device I suppose.
When the bus was somewhat filled (there is no timetable, they just fill the bus and go), we began to get ever more restless, as we began to realize that we would likely miss what we thought would be a 2:50pm train in Java to begin our travels west. The driver offered us a tease by sitting in his seat and honking the horn. But, alas, he then rose, walked off the bus, and went, well, somewhere, for a while. To get to the point, the bus took off 2 hours after we arrived at Ubung. Just as we finally thought the driver was going to put the pedal to the metal, it stopped in the parking lot. A young British couple jumped on and sat next to us. They were still paging through their Bali travel book, which I thought was strange.
Gilimanuk is the port town in west Bali about 3hrs from Denpasar. The bus arrived there and began boarding the ferry. At this moment, the Brits decided it would be a good time to have a little chat. "Where the fuck are we?" as they pointed at their Lonely Planet map. I pointed to our current location, which was certainly not where they had intended to go. Just an aside, I love how British people say "fuck." We passed them by while exiting the bus to the ferry and they attempted to communicate with the driver. Either they were scammed or tremendously stupid.
The ferry was interesting. M had heard some rumors as to how "sea-worthy" these barges would be, but it was too late to be concerned. We looked back to Bali as it took off and began to wonder what would be different in coffee-land. Turns out, quite a bit, but more on that later. At the ferry you can buy bananas. They had other things, but bananas sounded best. I munched on one while watching some teenager try to put on a trade show of sorts in front of the passengers, selling these stupid rubber balls that had fiber optic epileptic seizures when you drop them on the ground. For the kids, of course.
The ferry lined up its arrival and we began to size up this long skinny island in front of us. No big deal, we thought, no biggie. Shortly after the bus drove off the barge and onto Java soil, the bus employee flagged us to the back of the bus, pointing at the train station that we so insisted on being dropped off at. I immediately regretted not taking the bus straight to Surabaya, as the area looked beyond sketchy. Either way, we were getting off that bus and were on our own. Great...
We were dropped off at a corner with a vague sign indicating that it led to a station. As we began traversing the street, some lovely goats greeted us. I could feel those evil goats cursing us. The station did not look exactly inviting, and M attempted to purchase tickets to Surabaya. Not available until 9:45pm, uh oh spaghetti-O. We looked at the clock and it was 2:30pm. And that 2:50pm train we thought we'd make? Didn't exist. Some "friendly/scam-worthy" local negotiated what was an apparent arrangement for a bus to take us to Surabaya, and he left on his motorbike to finish the deal, we supposed (no idea how it was supposed to work). We were tired of waiting, and a young boy started a conversation with us. Only M could somewhat understand him. I'm pretty sure he was serenading her and to be quite honest, I was too annoyed by the day to absorb his charm.
Frustrated and scared, we ventured off again onto BF Blvd and found ourselves on a taxi that did not appear honest at first glance, but who cares at this moment? We arrived at yet another, and exceedingly sketchy, bus station, and found ourselves back at square one, yes, a bus to Surabaya. They said it would take 6 hours, 40 minutes. How exact!
Upon entering the bus, we were the stars of the show, as we always are in Asia. I considered holding out a cup for $, might as well considering the entertainment we provide for staring natives. The creepy thing about the staring in Java is that they don't smile like they do in Bali.
A brief moment of relief sits in. Yes, today sucked, yes, we are yet again on a bus to Surabaya, even though we tried to avoid it. But we were back on track. We didn't care that the bus seemed to stop at every block. So we sit, and sit, and sit, and did I mention we sat? My ass went numb and eventually my tailbone felt like it had been paddled hard by a sadistic fraternity brother. M mentioned maybe changing positions. Didn't work, just uncomfortable no matter what. We dozed off occasionally and worried every time we looked at the clock and realized that the estimated time of travel was grossly misrepresented.
At one point, we stopped at a station that, if I had one word, would describe as Hades. Put it this way, if you were stranded there, you wouldn't survive the night. M had to pee, and when she exited, the vulnerable white boy with the stinging ass waited for her impatiently. Luckily, we had some nice visitors come by and say hello. One of them had a gimpy leg and slid his way down the bus aisle. That was nice. Then, as I looked to my left, an apparent leper was sitting there with his hands out, ordering me to feed him. M is much nicer than I am and fed him some bread, but had an insatiable appetite. I also found out that when M attempted to find a bathroom, men began asking her where her husband was. She was so scared that she ditched the bathroom idea and bought "food" instead.
Some time around 9pm or so, the bus stopped flat in its tracks and the bus employee shoved us off, pointing at the honking bus in front of it. Quite an impatient driver, I thought, just give us a damn minute to gather our enormous hiking bags. We entered the bus and did not like what we saw. Some seedy-looking fellows were sitting to the left of us, one of which particularly enjoyed hucking loogies, clearing his throat, and generally just snotting everywhere. Not to mention, this bus was eerily darker, drearier, and just dirtier than the last one, and that's saying something. But that wasn't the worst part...
Unbeknownst to us, Mario Andretti was piloting the starship. I should have predicted that the honk-crazy driver would have a lead foot, but this was beyond human tolerance. Despite the complete lack of suspension and overall safety and security of the bus, he drove with reckless abandon. It seemed like he was going 100mph at all times down a seemingly endless sea of potholes, beeping incessantly and just generally bullying everyone on the road. We might as well have been in an ambulance. M and I clung to each other and feared for our lives.
If there was any redeeming qualities to this driver, at least we got to Surabaya much faster than originally anticipated. We found a taxi, which took us to our destination. Surabaya looked OK, habitable enough. We were too relieved to start judging. The front door was locked and we went around back to check in. The room wasn't great and it had a creepy blue light at its top. The bathroom was mildly gross and overbleached. Didn't matter, we made it, one step closer to Jogya in this unforgiving terrain. Time to keep on keeping on....
M here again. I'll break this post for the next, and thus far nicer, half of the journey.
