Last week was half term at the French school the children needed entertaining. With Richard away, and not many options for playdates, we decided to head out of town and explore more of Indonesia. I was joined by another mother in the same predicament and together we decided to visit Tanjung Lesung, a seaside resort on the southwestern corner of Java.
The brochure described the accommodation as ‘an eco-lodge built to blend in with the natural landscape,’ while simultaneously promising ‘four-star air-conditioned luxury,’ all situated right next to white-sand beaches and crystal-clear sea. It sounded like the perfect place to commune with nature and keep the kids occupied. And, after a somewhat long drive down (the advertised three-hour drive took well over four and a half hours), we were not disappointed. The swimming pool and lush tropical garden were right in the middle of the villa, which was actually composed of three bedrooms built around the open air garden with al fresco living and dining areas. Sadly, we were temporarily prevented from exploring the beach by the usual four o’clock rain, but that was no matter – the rain would clear up, and the next day we’d be free to enjoy the beach, with attendant snorkelling, pedal-boating, jet-skiing and even possibly a trip to the nearby Krakatoa volcano. In the meantime we had the pool, the garden, the fabulous food and Twister to keep us occupied.
That first sign that things might not be going to plan was a text message from Richard asking if we were ok – an earthquake had caused a tsunami that hit the Mentawai islands (off Western Sumatra, which is the island next to us), and he was worried that we might have been near enough to be affected. We weren’t; but the next day, the water was distinctly choppy and, possibly worried about aftershocks, the very nice beach co-ordinator said that any pedal boat or jet-ski related activity was our of the question. Snorkelling was also ruled out as the water was far too murky to see anything.
That left Krakatoa; however, the other piece of breaking news was a volcano eruption in central Java (still far way, but the same island this time). As if in sympathy, Krakatoa had begun spewing smoke, thus rendering it technically active, and there was now no way we could even attempt the trip. (Of course with both Rohan’s and my tendency to sea-sickness, the three-hour round trip on a speed boat might not have been a good idea in the first place, but that’s another story...)
So we got on with Rohan’s favourite past time of building sandcastles until lunchtime. More great food, and a chance to lounge on the beach until the inevitable rain drove us back into the villa for a DVD this time. It was around tea-time that I decided that the holiday wasn’t exactly working to plan and that it might be a good idea to return to Tanjung Lesung at a better time. "Come during the dry season" I was helpfully told by a nice man at Reception, although he acknowledged that the dry season only lasted a month (mid-July to mid-August). And that often, it rained then too.
So, one emergency phone call to the driver later, we were on our way back to Jakarta with only slightly heavy hearts. As if to reinforce our decision, it rained all the way back. The slow traffic meant we hit Jakarta at rush hour, and it took a grand total of six hours to get back – two of them in Jakarta alone. Still, the boys and I were happy enough with our music and even though the driver is probably tired of hearing ‘Pop goes my Heart’ (played a total of 16 times) we made it back home and into our beds without any further incident.
It wasn’t until we returned to Jakarta and the world of TV and Internet that we learned the full extent of the disasters; entire villages wiped out, hundreds dead, and more missing. The relief work has only just started and it will take months for the villagers to get their lives back.
The trouble with communing with nature is that it sometimes wants to talk back.
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