Indonesia is a country a little off the beaten track, except of course the island of Bali. However this large and sprawling nation has many aspects and Java, the most populous island right next door to Bali, is really somewhere to explore.
Coming from Bali it’s a short ferry ride to the mainland, but Java really is pretty big. About 1000kms end to end and a couple of hundred across, and is roughly rectangular in shape. At the eastern end is the Indonesian capital Jakarata, a surprisingly welcoming, developed and clean place now. At the western end is Banguwangi and the ferry to Bali.
photo credit: tropicaLiving – Jessy Eykendorp
I was there recently on my way to the second city of Java, Jogjakarta, or Jogja for short, which is at least a 15 hour bus ride away from the ferry terminal. Even the excellent train service, available throughout the island, would take almost that and having traveled a few hours to get to the mainland from Bali this seemed a bit much. Looking at the map a black spot with Jember written next to it seemed within easier reach. The taxi driver knew exactly where to get the five hour long bus.
As often happens in South East Asia (SEA) there was a service literally just leaving as we arrived. Bags were magically transferred by what seemed like a small army of conductors and porters and within a couple of seconds we were on our way to Jember and a trip that must be done. Yes, this article is about a bus journey from Banguwangi to Jember, and how this is something that can be recommended, but only for a certain type of traveler. Put it this way, if you are a nervous passenger, take the train.
On the other hand if you like extreme sports or have ever fantasized about being a getaway driver then this is for you. Try to get the very front seat (they are anyway normally avoided by locals for reasons that will become obvious). I was sitting behind and to the left of the driver, and slightly higher, with nothing between me and the 10ft x 10ft glass windscreen. A quick search revealed the almost inevitable lack of a seat belt, so holding on tight is your best option.
The bus/coach itself was in pretty good shape for SEA and almost would not look out of place on a European road. As we started leaving town everything seemed pretty normal, if anything we were going pretty slow and carefully, every few hundred meters picking up passengers throughout the town. Passengers can essentially ask to get off anywhere, and the bus will stop anywhere to pick up a fare. This is the main difference between an official bus driver and someone taking the bus for a five hour joyride through Java, oh and a hat, blue.
At this point a little has to be said about the driving conditions in much of Indonesia. Basically lorries rule the road but are quite slow. Buses are next in the pecking order and are surprisingly fast and agile, and are equipped with very loud airhorns to inform everyone of this fact. Next are cars which are often even faster than the buses. These three categories make up about 20% of the road users, almost all the rest being small motorbikes with one, two, three or even four passengers counting children (but not babies or animals of course) which are also fairly slow. Lastly there are a few cyclists, food carts, buffalo and even some intrepid pedestrians. None of these later categories have lights, which becomes more significant when the sun jumps under the horizon at about six o’clock.
The road itself is a fairly narrow single carriageway in both directions. The ‘street lighting’ is patchy at best, and for my eyes at least, this patchiness is almost worse than no lighting. This indifferent light is mainly provided by shops, vendors and other establishments which seem to continuously follow the road the whole way. Occasionally some local community body has even made an effort at places which are probably a bit of a blackspot. Lastly we must consider rain. This is a tropical country and rain can come at any time and in stunning quantities, turning our road into a shallow river within minutes.
photo credit: William Christiansen
All these factors must somehow be reconciled with the timetable of the bus, which in its five hours must complete nearly 200kms. This includes a 20 minute stop for a break halfway, picking up and setting down passengers maybe 50 times and about 30kms of winding mountain road. The mathematics will tell you we are looking at an average speed of around 50km per hour. And driving experience will tell you this means often maintaining 70, 80 or even 90kmh. Then considering the average speed of most of the traffic, and the volume, it is inevitable you will be overtaking about 70% of the time! This in a coach, in the dark, maybe the wet, with unlit vehicles and road verges crowded with shops and shoppers. Wow, you really have to admire the drivers, especially if they don’t hit anyone at all. So on with the journey.
Once we had left town and the bus was full the journey started for real. Suddenly the engine seemed to spring to life and the coach really started to move. Motorbikes are expected to slow down or even escape to the verge and are essentially ignored for overtaking purposes. A blast of the airhorn warning them that 30 tons of metal is on its way into their carriageway is all the notice they might get. I grip my seat tighter.
We are now going through a small town with parked cars and motorbikes narrowing the road further. Pavements crowded with people are flashing by at 70kmh as we sail up the middle of the road, small lorry on our left (they drive on the left like in UK), motorbikes seemingly everywhere overtaking each other, and an oncoming car rather forlornly flashing its headlights at us. My heart is beating hard, my eyes darting about wanting to see(for some strange reason as I have no control) where the child is going to run out from, or the motorcycle is going to swerve from, or the lorry is going to turn in from. But nothing, we make it through, no one killed or even injured, a miracle. This miracle happens about every 5 minutes for the next 5 hours, which is why this is such an experience.
At first you are frankly scared for your own safety. Then you are even more concerned about the people who look so vulnerable on their little motorbike as it flashes inches from the windscreen at 80kmh while 130 decibel airhorn tells them off for not having eyes in the back of their head’s. Then you start to realize this is normal, it happens every day, ten times a day on this road, and 10 times a day on a thousand other roads like it all over the country. And then you start to enjoy it. You feel reasonable safe in your 30 ton steel hotel on wheels. You start to realize that actually the other road users are fairly safe as well when this hotel appears to be able to stop from 60kmh to 10 in about 3 meters, and that everyone seems to know what is going on.
At this point, about an hour into the journey I predict, you can relax. You will only need to grip the bottom of your seat when you see something really nasty developing. You’ll have decided where you are going to jump if a crash does appear to be about to happen (the ‘passenger footwell’ area or behind the driver’s seat) so you don’t get launched through the safety glass. And above all you will have pretty supreme confidence in the vehicle, the driver and the whole road system and organization. It works. For a western person it is very different but this is how they have set it up, and it really does generally work.
So sit back and relax and enjoy this cross between a roller coaster and an enormous video game. It truly is a profound, fascinating and exciting experience, much like Indonesia itself. Oh and the cost, 80p each way.
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