Three day weekend approaches (March 23rd-25th) I'm stoked. Don't have to work Saturday. Time to explore. On a whim I ask the new girl, Yuli, if she will join me. I'm surprised at her affirmative response. Originally I had intended to jump onna bus early Friday morning, however she's willing to drive her motorbike Thursday night. Score! More time to chill at the beach. Short week can't end soon enough.
The day of departure I'm anxious all day at work. Can't wait to get outta town. Pelabuhan Ratu promises black sand beaches, massive waves, nearby hot springs, and surfer culture. Eager anticipation dominates my day. Finally classes come to an end. Time to rally.
Yuli is concerned. I don't have a bike helmet. Never occurred to me this would prove problematic. I've been on the back of many a bike round these parts, helmetless. Police never seem to mind. Actually they keep a low profile around here. Hardly ever see'em. What will happen if we get caught? "Because you are Boulé and I'm a girl, and this bike is really too big for me, they will charge a lot of money!" Even in distress she sounds cute. I assure her we can catch a bus the following morning as per my original plan but she insists we'll find a street vendor to sell us a helmet instead.
None materializes and before I know it we're rocketing outta town, driving dirty some may say. The streets are choked with traffic, again. An hour and a half on the road and my arms are disorientated from vibration, my ass is numb, and it seems like we've gotten nowhere. Yuli pulls over for a rest. Let the traffic spread itself out. Eat some Martabak a sort of thick, greasy pancake I've come to like. We agree to carry on a bit farther before hunkering down in a hotel until the next morning. Traffic is clear now. Off into the night! Once again she defies logic and previous plans, turning off to catch the high ridge west towards our final destination. The road here is patchy and by now the night is pitch black. Dangerous. Clearly she's eager to get the trip over with, risking life and limb in the darkness. No place to spend the night out here. Soldier on. I cling to the bike's rear rails, bracing myself against frequent potholes and the sporadic acceleration that manifests at Yuli's whim alone. I admire her spirit and sing songs in the dark, if only to keep her awake.
Since we both were clueless about the actual route as well as the trip's duration our travel seemed to stretch on forever. In reality we pulled into a hotel in Pelabuhan Ratu just four short hours after departure and promptly passed out, agreeing to sleep in late before attacking breakfast the next day. Oddly, that morning Yuli wants to return. I adamantly refuse to accompany her. There's no way I'm gonna depart after one night in some dingy hotel. I came to explore a beach and that's what I intend to do, so help me God. She complains that the way back is dangerous, that thugs abound on the road. If her bike were to break down or worse she wipes out things could get really bad quickly. With no life line out there she could be victim to muggings, violence, worst of all rape. Holy shit, I can't take this guilt trip. Now she's calling me selfish, can this be true? I thought I made my intensions perfectly clear. I can catch a bus back if need be but I wanted a weekend out here and we hadn't even made it to the beach yet. Finally she acquiesces though she has no intension of swimming. So we find a sweet little villa directly on the coast a little ways northeast of town with a couple available rooms. Sure enough she passes out immediately. Unbelievable. Oh well. I hope she finds what she came for. Meanwhile I'ma check out the surf.
Sure enough the waves are large as promised. I spend an hour or two intermittently between body surfing (read getting pummeled by waves) and baking in the sun. Loving it. Finally I return to rest. Yuli steps out her room, beaming. Her boyfriend has agreed to meet her the following day. She will depart next morning. I was hoping my companion would've proved more willing to join me in exploring the area but apparently her mind is elsewhere. Fair enough. Sun down approaches. We walk the beach a ways and find some grub in a little shack. Storm's a brewin'. The surf begins to growl. Legend has it that in these parts a certain witch cast herself into the sea and is now known to draw the unwary down to her watery depths to dance with her forever. People are warned not to wear green, her favorite color, nor swim alone. Indeed a number of people have disappeared without a trace over the years. Science might credit the notoriously strong undertow but superstition deems otherwise.
Nightfall and I return to the beach. Yuli is concerned, I've expressed a desire to swim in the darkness. Again I'm being selfish in her mind, so she accompanies me and we just sit in the sand instead, watching the stars glitter and blink, the galaxy's arm spread wide overhead. There's too many people around anyhow, too much light pollution. I won't tempt fate this time, not tonight. Just rest.
Sure enough, Yuli takes her leave the next morning. I see her off and go back to bed. No need to over exert myself. I'm on vacation. Around noon I set off again in search of less populated shore. No avail. Human activity abounds all the way up. Some cliffs jut out over the sea, interrupting the beach, forcing me to climb rough hewn stone stairs. A swarthy gentlemen with a quick smile and celestial bodies tattooed on his face greets me in Indonesian. He gestures up the steps and leads the way. I'm not sure if he's trying to sell me something or what but I follow. At the stair's peak a large flat rock sticks out over the crashing surf below. Incense burns and young Indos take pictures with their girlfriends. Later I would learn that this was the spot the Sea Witch allegedly jumped off into the waves. Seems plausible at least. One has to wonder if the story bears any historical fact.
Ahead the beach turns rocky, difficult to traverse and I spy settlements as far as the eye can see. Just give up on seeking seclusion. Relax a bit, grab a drink from a seaside shack, reset. I jump back into the water, this time I go farther out and I swear the waves are taller. At one point I try to hold my ground against the ocean's mass only to be rocked off my feet and slammed into the ground. I briefly feel weightlessness and allow my limbs to flail like a helpless rag doll. I've succumbed to the powers of nature and damn it feels so right. Not long after this relentless beating I limp back to shore to pass out on the sand. A young Indo man wearing life guard's attire comes up next to me and sits uncomfortably close. His eyes are furrowed with concern. He asks my name and where I'm from but doesn't seem to know how to say much else. I offer him some water. I ask him if he's ok. Eventually he seems satisfied, smiles and points to the sun "Panas" it's hot. I nod my agreement, smiling. I like the hot sun. Apparently he doesn't, and takes his leave. I wonder what he was thinking. Probably thought I was a risk to myself but eventually felt reassured. I may never know.
According to my Lonely Planet guide there's a hot springs in the area where a river flows over volcanic rock, still hot from lava flow creating jets of steamy water spouts. I've got to see this. I hire an ojek, motorcycle/taxi/guy, a relatively easy affair in these parts. He takes me right up to the entrance of the place which is quite populated with locals and tourists alike. The man asks if he should stick around but I don't know long I'll be so I just shrug. He seems content to accept my offer of 10,000 rupiah (roughly 1 USD) and I get the feeling he would've taken any payment without protest. Curious behavior. I make my way to the river and am greeted by a strange sight. Sure enough water spouts are shooting off in a constant stream of steam and mist but somehow it just looks fake. It even sounds mechanical. I feel the victim of some clever ruse, mosey over to the bank and enter with suspicion. However it turns out to be all quite real. It's crazy, the river's bottom is all slippery rocks but some of them are damn hot! The cream colored ones are clearly the most recently melted, they burn flesh at the slightest touch. These are the one's that have water jettisoning out of little blow holes, I'm not sure how this works, has water worn it's way inside to become super heated and blow it's way through the cooling rock? I suppose it's plausible but I don't fully understand the science. As for the mechanical sound, that's just the noise of water attaining a rapid boil as it blasts off several meters into the air.
The place smells of sulfer which at first is off putting but eventually the odor becomes like aroma therapy and I can understand why people flock to such places for healing purposes. Though small crowds throng around certain areas I find a spot where I can submerge myself as heated water bubbles downstream. Dipping my head under the current I can hear the water boiling off to my side. Marvelous. And truly relaxing.
Eventually I've had enough. I make my way back to the shore over slippery rocks. It's dangerous as it's too easy to lose balance and the flailing hand that seeks purchase risks a deep scalding on super heated rocks. I can't walk in this manner, so I lay flat and drag myself against the current. At one point I'm passing a jet of water. I didn't understand how hot it actually was until the drops hit my back. The scalding spray causes me to roll out of the way, accidentally bumping against a young woman's legs. "Sorry," I call to her, followed by "Ma-ahs," my attempt at using a new word, only to realize later that while I had intended to say maaf (Indonesian for "sorry") I had accidentally yelled the word for "boy." I imagine the Indos were like "WTF?! Why is that damn boulé calling out 'boy'?" *facepalm*
By this point I felt I had exhausted all the available attractions in the area, and began thinking about where to find some grub and a place to hunker down. My guidebook suggested some joints that offer American food and I figured what the heck, why not a little comfort food to top off my little vacation. However all the suggested places were closed down. Even the hotels that sounded of interest had discontinued. I scoped some other places but they didn't hold much interest. Eventually I decided to catch a ride back to Pelabuhan Ratu, get a cheap hotel there, catch the bus in the morning. I jumped aboard an angkot, a sort of van that frequent the streets of Javan cities, and asked the driver to steer me towards a cheap hotel. However when we got into town sure enough we parked right next to the bus depot where a bus to Bogor awaited. Well, shit, may as well save a few and ride back now, right? I desperately needed a shower, the smell of the surf and sand was dense in my dreads and experience would presume the odor would linger long after if not washed out soon. Oh, well. The bus took off momentarily and I was relieved to find the fare was a slim 20grand (about 2 bucks.) Though the road was again pocked with holes and the bus un-airconditioned the ride wasn't so bad. Four short hours later I was back in Bogor and trekking back to my shoddy little kost (boarding house.) All in all a nice little get away, all to be followed with the adventure of moving into a new, spacious home. Good to be here.
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