Pangandaran

Day 1 - Goodbye Yodga

I must say we were both glad to see the back of Yogyakarta, otherthan Borobudur, it didn’t quite live up to the expectation laid out in our trusty out of date lonely planet guide… for a start, 2 of the bars listed had closed down!.

So 8am we were on a train to Pangandaran which was a beach side resort close to Buta Karas which we heard was great for beginner surfers. We had exec train tickets which treated you to reclining seats and lots of leg room to stretch out and admire the stunning scenery (we like the trains here!)

Arriving in Sidareja station (45mins away from Pangdandaran)  we quickly discovered that the train station was nowhere near the bus station so after some debate and a bit of haggling we were both once again on the back of bike taxi’s hurtling the 3k in mid-day heat to the bus station. Once there, and being the only western faces, we were a source of amusement to the locals and spent the next hour passing time chatting to them until our bus turned up.

 

This is where we discovered the hottest place on earth!. It’s a bus, sitting stationary in the blazing heat for 30 minutes before moving, cram jammed with locals, chickens and a puking child, you may care to avoid this mode  of transport if in the future you find yourself here!  Glenn and I was squeezed into a seat for one, he was feeling the worst of the heat then I shortly followed as he started to slowly drip on me!. We were treated to 2 interludes of buskers joining and singing what appeared to be out of tune songs into your face and then demanding a tip, well it helped pass the time before the bus set off.

 

Once the bus got going natures air conditioning soon kicked in as we were strategically placed by the door (which never shuts) so could take advantage of the warm/hot air whilst hanging on for dear life at every corner else you’d be left on the pavement.

We arrived at the bus terminal and again negotiated Cyclo for me and bike taxi for Glenn. The accommodation I’d arranged was £10 a night inc breakkie and to be honest, it wasn’t too bad. Close to the beach clean spacious rooms. Lacked a sink though which was weird.

 

We unpacked, locked up valuables and headed to the beach which was pretty clean, white sand and famous for surfing. However the waves whilst huge were just ‘dumping’ (part of the new surf lingo I’ve picked up) so not many boarders out. We opted for a late lunch/early dinner and a beer before heading back.

 

We made it back in good time as the heavens opened and continued to stay open for the rest of the night. Knackered, Glenn passed out around 6:45 and I shortly followed, Rock and Roll!.

Day 2 - Green Canyon/Green Valley, turning green!

Unsurprisingly we were up with the larks due to our early night and enjoying breakie outside our room, when a guide approached us about a trip. It sounded reasonably priced and included a couple of things I’d read and wanted to do so we agreed to leave at 9AM where we would join another couple who had previously booked.

We were introduced to the Dutch couple (really nice young couple but can’t remember names!) and set off to what I’d call a prawn cracker factory. This was as uninspiring as it sounds so I won’t dwell but only to say we got given a stack of crackers to take with us

 

Stop 2 was where they made palm sugar.  Bit more interesting as we saw the bloke climb the palm and milk the tree. There was also a resident fruit bat there that I cajoled Glenn into having his pic taken with (given he didn’t get his rabies jabs I think he was very brave!). The palm sugar was lovely to taste but sadly no freebies on this visit.

 

Next stop was Green Valley where we would be body rafting. This was one I’d read about where you don life jackets and gently bob down the river enjoying the scenery along the way, nice!

We exited the car and started to hike up to a waterfall. Our Guide who was absolutely brilliant by the way (and called me Shell J (I shall call him my mate hereon)) said we wouldn’t need the jackets as we could all swim. The climb up wasn’t too steep but was pretty treacherous due to last night’s rainfall so after a few near falls, my mate held my hand and navigated me over the worst till we got to the top (I felt about 90!).

 

At the top we all jumped into some fast moving water and Glenn and Dutch bloke were encouraged to climb a high-ish jumping off point into the water. Glenn was like a mountain goat up the rocks but I did see a brief moment of terror as he looked over the edge before jumping. He had no choice though as Dutch bloke had already jumped!. He made the jump, bones intact and it was the girls turn.

 

We had both declined the high ledge so ‘my mate’ chose a lower point for us. Halfway up though I bottled it. Dutch girl was ahead of me so I didn’t have ‘my mate’ to  guide me up so I clambered back down a bit embarrassed as I didn’t make the jump plus had to come down arse first,  facing Glenn and the Dutch bloke. 

We carried on the journey traversing sharp rocks, jumping off rocks into each next new set of pools and swimming through really strong currents, trying to grab onto slimy rocks else you’d be whisked off down river. 

 

We found a cave that was pitch black that you had to swim into and was told was about30/40 feet deep. We all agreed that it wasn’t quite what we had signed up for and agreed to get each other through it.  After a few more jumps, swimming under crashing waterfalls and jumping off ropes we started to actually get the hang of it. The trick was to keep your legs out in front of you so you could push off with your feet when you hurtled into the rocks the water was forcing you into, a doddle!

 

 

We finally reached the point which involved the advertised bobbing along slowly for some distance right at the end of the adventure. By this time sadly we were all exhausted and could barely keep afloat (Glenn not Shell) and looking forward to lunch and a Bingtang (all of us!).

 

After lunch we headed to Green Canyon which involved a nice boat cruise passed some stunning jungaly scenery to a canyon where you could have a swim. All still exhausted from the morning’s adventure and knowing that you had to pay extra to swim we opted to take pics instead and clambered back into the boat.

 

Next stop was a bamboo bridge, which was, well a bridge made of bamboo, Obligatory pics taken we jumped back in the car but ‘My Mate’ gave us a tip that we should use this bridge when going to Buta Karas as it took 7k off the journey.

 

Final stop was a turtle sanctuary, now we’ve done a few of these to date but always nice to go along and donate. It was my turn to try and avoid getting bitten so held one of the larger turtles which was going fine till I slipped on a drain, fell back and nearly dropped him/her!

 

 

Homeward bound took us over some really rough roads and through a street where every shopfront had a Bingtang sign. ‘My mate’ informed us that this was the red light district, where the ladies of the night were fondly called ‘Butterflies’. How nice, but shouldn’t it be Moths?

Back home we headed straight out to a bar to grab a beer and a bite before turning in, we passed these mad converted VW Beetles that were pedal powered, lit up at night and went down a storm with the locals who brought along their stereo’s so they could have tunes banging out as they peddled like crazy around the town.

 

Sat at the bar I eaves dropped (as you do) on a conversation between some English speaking blokes next to us. It turned out that they worked for Susi Airlines, the one the Beeb did a documentary series on being the most scariest place to be a pilot? Now, we had read that their safety record was appalling so I was keen to strike up a conversation with them so that they could alleviate our fears as our onward destination was 10hours away by road and Susi could get you there within an hour for £30!

Nudging Glenn we both listened in attentively whilst feigning our own conversation only to hear one of them going mad as he was sharing lodgings with someone who was keeping him awake so hadn’t had the  required amount of sleep.  His mates saying how dangerous this was,  they were breaking the rules etc etc…. We never bothered to make friends!

Day 3 – who moved the bridge?

Glenn was on a mission this morning!. Last night we discovered the only 2 ATM’s in walking distance either wouldn’t take our card or were out of Cash. So up early Glenn rented a bike and went off in search of an ATM.

I was sitting outside our room treating myself to a 2^nd cup of free do it yourself coffee (all for a tenna!) when ‘My Mate’ came along and shouted out “hello Shel”. He was taking the folks next door to us on the same trip.

The folks next door were two girls and a guy who were traveling together. I think they each came from various parts of Europe as they conversed together in broken English, which was usually some form of argument. Two of them were midway through a row the day we checked in and when we returned the previous evening from the trip, they stopped ‘my mate’ to quiz him about how difficult it would be, what was included in the price, was it steep, etc etc. ‘My mate’ had jokingly said to them that if they got tired he would personally carry them on his back. Now let’s just say these girls didn’t look the fittest specimens I’d ever seen and with the storms we’d had again the previous night, I wasn’t holding up much hope for ‘My Mates’ back!.

Just before I was about to send out a search party, Glenn returned with a big smile on his face. After searching and familiarising himself with the whole area he had finally found a working ATM and we now had money!

As we had the bike we decided to go and check out Buta Karas where we wanted to learn to Surf. We were told that accommodation would be expensive there but ith no room left at our cheap place (weekend was coming so all the locals travel down from neighbouring towns) we thought we would check it out for ourselves.

 

 

The journey took about 1.5hrs but were told that we would pass some stunning scenery and could shave about 30 mins off if we used the bamboo bridge which could only be crossed by bikes.

We went to where the bamboo bridge should be but no bridge….we think somebody must have dismantled and moved it in the night to a secret location… so 1.5 hours later we ended up at a beautiful cove in the laid back town of Buta Karas.

 

We had a little wander along the beach, checked out the surf (baby waves, just right for us) and enquired about costs for surf lessons before finding a café overlooking the bay. It had a really nice vibe here, we loved it and wanted to stay!

After 2 failed attempts to find accommodation, one above a bar and a very posh looking one we don’t think we could afford even if they did have room, we hit gold. It was a slightly rundown hotel that overlooked the sea and where locals would typically stay. There was a pool that wasn’t filled and had seen better days and the rooms were basic, bucket flush jobbies but were large and clean.

So after an interesting negotiation between myself and a young lad who appeared to be in charge and didn’t speak a word of English (I think) we agreed to a knock down rate on the advertised price and early check in the following morning and free pancakes thrown in for breakfast  J. Chuffed with our plan we hopped back on the bike for home.

 

Now what I didn’t mention was that the road leading up to Buta Karas was riddled with pot holes, broken stones and bumps. I think this took its toll on the bike as after finding another stretch of bad road 20 mins after we set off the bike started to make those tell-tale jerks of a flat tyre! We were losing light fast and had next to no money on us so not the best time to break down! We’d got a flat on a previous trip to Thailand so knew the drill. We flagged down a passer-by who directed us to the nearest garage so we reversed turned and trudged up a hill to try and find it.

 

When we arrived there appeared to be only an old lady manning the place and after some sign languaging she reached over and prodded what we thought was a mound of clothes but turned out to be her sleeping grandson so that he could wake up and fix our tyre.

We needn’t have worried about the cost, the tyre was fixed by removing the inner tube, sanding down the hole, placing a cut off bit of rubber on it, taking the silver bit from a fag packet and laying it over the rubber, then taking a burning clamp from the coal fire and clamping it to the tyre to solder the rubber on. All for the princely sum of 20,000 doo dahs which is the equivalent to £1

 

Whilst we were waiting we was entertained by his friend who arrived with a jar with some sort of snake in it. He then decided to open the lid and poke it with a sharp stick. We stayed a VERY respectable distance and can’t share the outcome as our bike was fixed and handed back to us right at the critical moment!

We cautiously made the rest of the journey home in darkness where Glenn’s earlier ATM reckie did us a massive favour as he recognised a short cut that brought us back slightly earlier… who needs a bamboo bridge!