I woke up early, around 7 am, and had a light breakfast. Today’s plan involved visiting Baluran National Park, situated in the northwestern part of Java. Having checked into the Rosali Hotel in Situbondo the previous night, my intention was to stay here for two days. After breakfast, I inquired at the reception about renting a moped. Initially quoting 100,000 IDR, I negotiated and settled on a maximum of 50,000 IDR. Fortunately, my bargaining skills paid off, and the staff agreed. Within 15 minutes, the moped was delivered. When asked about my plans, I mentioned my intent to visit Baluran National Park and check their prices, as well as drive around Situbondo. Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely sure what the day had in store.
Exploring Situbondo
Rosali Hotel presented itself as a visually appealing accommodation, albeit with a very basic room. My expectations were already set, given the limited options in the Situbondo area. With a nightly rate of approximately 220,000 IDR, it was the best available choice. The staff had to provide instructions on operating the moped since it was my first experience with a shift-gear model. Though there was an initial learning curve, once I got the hang of it, I found shifting gears to be a delightful aspect, offering a more engaging driving experience. After gaining control of my moped, I ventured into the area and stumbled upon a spa and salon on the main road (a ten-minute walk after turning left). Having read positive reviews online, I decided to try my first-ever massage.
After concluding my exploration of Situbondo, consisting mainly of the shops lining the 2 km main road, I aimed to inquire about the tour prices at Baluran National Park.
Looking at Google Maps, I estimated the distance to the park to be around 40 kilometers. Since it was still early, and equipped with my camera, I spontaneously chose to head there right away. The roads were well-maintained, with minimal traffic, and the radiant sun illuminated vast paddy fields along the way. Oh, how I cherished the experience of traveling by moped!
Roadblock
After a ten-minute drive, I encountered a roadblock set up by the Indonesian police. I expressed my frustration in Dutch because I had forgotten to bring my driver’s license or any other form of ID. In fact, I had never carried them with me on my journey so far, haha. I was surprised by my oversight, considering I had been quite meticulous in my planning thus far. In Yogyakarta, Malang, Sabang, or Malaysia, I had never brought them along. I felt foolish, and a sense of unease started to creep in. I had always kept my travel documents securely stored in a hotel, locked away. It was astonishing how laid-back I had become during my journey; if someone had predicted this situation face-to-face a few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed them.
I drove to the location the officer indicated and turned off my engine. The police officer didn’t speak a word of English, but he grasped my expressive gestural sign language. He didn’t appear pleased at all and went to fetch the chief officer in command. This gentleman seemed even more displeased, and I handed him the motorbike identification paper while explaining the situation. The only item in my wallet with my name and photo was my Dutch public transport chip card.
Apologies
The officers conversed with each other in Indonesian. I presumed they were deliberating my fine, and I braced myself for a potential negotiation scenario. A friend at home had shared numerous stories about encounters with the police in Bali. According to him, they often stopped tourists and coerced them into paying fines for driving in their jurisdiction. Typically, they would insist on the necessity of having an international driver’s license.
I expressed my apologies to the officer, acknowledging my foolishness for not carrying my driver’s license. Unexpectedly, he reassured me that it was alright, and I was allowed to proceed. Astonished, I retrieved my Dutch public transport chip card from him and returned it to my wallet. Resuming my journey, I couldn’t help but feel that familiar rush of excitement. I pondered on how consistently fortunate I had been throughout my global travels. Driving along, I mused, ‘God, I love this country and its rules—pure freedom.’
Savannah in Indonesia
The journey to Baluran National Park turned out to be lengthier than anticipated. After a full hour of driving at an average speed of 70 kilometers per hour, I sought directions in a village. A local man advised, ‘Still follow this main road, satu (ten) kilometers.’ Pressing on, I eventually spotted a sign indicating Baluran National Park, 10 km. It was 11:45 am when I finally arrived at Baluran National Park, making it a total drive of 1.5 hours—quite an unexpected adventure.
I promptly altered my plan and opted to explore the park immediately instead of waiting until tomorrow. At the information desk, I obtained a map and a ticket (20,000 IDR). I approached the man behind the desk, asking him to indicate my current location on the map. Curious about the park roads, I queried, “Is it possible to ride on the park road? I mean, are the roads okay?” The man looked at me with a facial expression that seemed to say, “What kind of stupid question is that?” and assured me, “Of course, you can ride on our roads with your moped.”
The initial roads were fine, but gradually, they transformed into rocky paths strewn with pebbles. It felt as if I were navigating the bed of a dried-up river. It was challenging—terrible, in fact. At certain stretches, I had to rely on my legs to ensure I didn’t topple over. This road proved to be the most treacherous I had encountered, surpassing even the gravel roads near Merapi in Yogyakarta.
Arrival in Bekol
From the park entrance, the journey to the next village, Bekol, spanned 10 kilometers, and the road conditions were dreadful, necessitating a cautious hour-long drive. At times, I grew genuinely concerned about the well-being of the moped, so I proceeded with care.
Around 1 pm, I reached Bekol and quenched my thirst with some water. Having purchased two small bottles of water, a coke, and a few snacks, I engaged in a brief conversation with a local man who, unfortunately, did not speak English. Subsequently, I visited a restroom and headed towards a tourist information office. Bekol appeared deserted, devoid of any tourists, and I relished the solitude—finally, an attraction all to myself. I couldn’t help but appreciate the lack of tourists around Bromo a few days ago, and now, in Baluran National Park, the absence of fellow travelers made it feel like a slice of heaven.
From Bekol to Bama
I decided to stick to the plan and reach the end of the paved road without embarking on a hike. Another 3 kilometers from Bekol led to Bama, a location boasting a stunning beach accessible via a less-than-ideal pebble road. The route to Bama was exceptional, evoking the African landscapes frequently described to me when discussing Baluran. Enhanced by the ongoing rainy season in Java, the savanna displayed a vibrant green hue; in the dry season, this area would resemble an even more authentic African savannah.
The journey from Bekol to Bama treated me to breathtaking vistas, with Baluran Mountain, a small dormant volcano, in the distance capturing my imagination, envisioning the incredible views one could experience from its summit (reachable through guided tours).
Bama Beach
Covering the distance from Bekol to Bama in just 10 minutes, I naturally extended my journey, captivated by the opportunity to photograph the local wildlife. The tranquility surrounding me was truly enchanting, with not a single tourist in sight. I have a deep appreciation for hidden gems like this.
Parking my moped, I brought along my Coke and snacks to explore Bama Beach. The scenery was breathtaking, with a handful of locals enjoying a swim. Despite the curious looks and laughter directed my way, there was no attempt at communication, and I was content with the solitude. Taking a leisurely stroll, I captured some memorable photographs of the surroundings.
I proceeded to explore the northern section of the beach, meandering through bushes along a designated path. The ambiance was delightful – calm waters, ideal temperatures, and a serene atmosphere with only a local family enjoying a picnic. Regretfully, I wished I had brought my swimming trunks. As I walked by the family, they greeted me with smiles. Eager to discover the full length of the beach, I ventured into a more secluded, bushy area.
I strolled towards a different thicket and paused for a moment. Within sight, a small segment of mangrove bushes and an additional beach came into view. As I maneuvered around, a colossal lizard swiftly darted from the rocks to the mangrove bush, the entire sequence unfolding in the blink of an eye. Impressed by the lizard’s speed, I resolved to capture a final image of the adjacent beaches before retracing my steps to where my moped was parked.
Pickachu
Returning to the beach, I passed by the family once more, and this time, they extended an invitation for me to join them. Accepting their offer, I sat down, and we engaged in a pleasant conversation. The girl, named Pika, had a memorable name due to her yellow t-shirt, evoking thoughts of Pikachu, which made me chuckle. She was celebrating her marriage here with her husband and her parents. Pika’s family appeared friendly, even offering me some of their food. They expressed a keen interest in learning everything about me.
Eagerly, I shared my travel plans with them, and Pika, in turn, suggested that I stay at their house to undertake the planned hike. I requested Pika to call my hotel and leave her contact number there. I promised to get back to her once I made a decision. Following our delightful meal and conversation, I returned to my moped in the courtyard. However, some intriguing sounds caught my attention. It turned out there were monkeys in the forest to the right. After about 10 minutes, I managed to capture a good picture of them.
The Mangrove
As I stood there, Pika’s mother approached me. She had just come from the beach and walked past me into the forest. She was heading for a hike to the Mangrove trees. Although I had noticed a sign for a hike, I initially thought it might be a substantial trek, something I wasn’t in the mood for at the moment. However, the mother gestured for me to follow her. Despite the language barrier, I trusted her instincts, and so I decided to follow.
I was glad I did, as the route turned out to be only 500 meters and led us through the mangrove trees to a viewing platform in the ocean. It was a wonderful experience, and I expressed my gratitude to her. Despite the language barrier, I was able to convey my thanks using the Indonesian word for thank you. The area featured small fishes in the water, fascinating snails, and crabs in the mud, making it a fantastic discovery.
The Bekol View Point
After 15 minutes, I resumed my journey on the motorbike and headed towards the viewing tower in Bekol. Pika had mentioned it, and the prospect of having a high view of the area sounded exciting. Along the way, I took some pictures of the mountain and the savanna. Baluran National Park had truly captured my heart.
Fast forward, I savored the breathtaking views for about ten minutes. Following that, I made my way back. Upon reaching the park entrance, I took a brief rest, and then resumed my journey home. I reached my destination around 6 pm and safely stowed my camera in my room.
Massage and Dinner
Embarking on my moped for a final ride, I reached the massage salon. Upon entering, ten delightful girls burst into giggles; evidently, a foreigner here was quite a novelty. Opting for a full-body massage, their assigned specialist worked wonders. Regretting not trying this two months ago, I had never felt so relaxed in my life. I nearly dozed off five times! Post-massage, dinner was ordered at the hotel.
While savoring my dinner, a man approached me, introducing himself as Ferry. The Rosali hotel reception had arranged for Ferry to be my guide. I had completely forgotten about requesting him. Ferry would accompany me to Kawah Ijen tonight, and I agreed. I extended my stay at the reception and returned to my room. I worked on some reports and tried to unwind. Although it was getting late and I needed to sleep, I wasn’t quite ready. I had to be prepared by 1 am for the night ahead.
Late-night cancellations
Around 10 pm, my phone rang, and I answered. Ferry informed me that he was on his way to my room. However, when he arrived, he shared the disappointing news that we couldn’t proceed with the tour. I felt let down, as just three hours ago, everything seemed fine. Despite this, I assured him it was okay and proceeded to the reception to cancel my extra night. Subsequently, I organized transportation to Banyuwangi for the next day. With no time to waste, I decided to arrange the Kawah Ijen tour independently. The receptionist offered to drive me to the bus terminal when I checked out at noon the next day. Slightly disappointed, I went to bed after finalizing all the arrangements. In the end, I was relieved that things worked out this way, considering the considerable travel time from Situbondo to Kawah Ijen, which was around 3 or 4 hours.
