Monday 13 May 1996
Off to Tapaktuan a town which did not even get a mention in the 13 pages devoted to the large province of Banda Acheh in an edition part written by the founder Tony Wheeler the founder of the Lonely Planet. Yet it is the place of which we have the fondest memories of all Sumatra, made most poignant by the tragedy of the tsunami eight years later on boxing day 2004 and the certainty that few, if any, of the lovely people we met would have survived.
Caught tourist bus to Prapat but planned to leave so as to continue up the same coast. Amongst the passengers were an Aussie lad, a half caste from Cardiff, and a tall blond Dutch girl who travelled and slept as a threesome. They were part of the excellent crowd at Pillies, their only 'downside' was getting to Srikland earlier and thus forcing us to wait for our dinner. Lots of activity on the road with lovely fast flowing rivers and terrain varying from forests to paddy fields, noted that it would have been ideal for cycling but for the need to avoid buses and trucks on the hairpin bends. Twelve hours later we got off at Seborong-Borong and booked into a guest house pointed out by the driver, one we would not recommend its small expensive rooms and a long wait for the one and only mandi. The altitude ensured a good sleep, we even used a blanket!
14 May
In their usual fashion people helped us find a bus to Sidikalang and were pleasantly surprised to find the road better quality than the Trans Sumatra Highway, to begin with it was vegetable farming like Berestagi but soon we were back into tropical rain forest. The road access to this region had recently been improved. At Sidikalang we got a minibus to Tapaktuan with of evidence of forestry with lots of trees felled awaiting collection, the native wood was being replaced with Palm Oil trees. There was also evidence of Trans Settlements, probably people being moved from Java, much wooden building and subsistence farming.
The the bus driver dropped us at an convenient Losmen in Tapsaktuan, and indicated also the market now being set up opposite with a night market for dinner. This time the choice was excellent for Bukit Barisan (name taken from mountain spine of Sumatra) was a lovely old wooden Dutch Colonial style building, the most imposing in town, plus an annexe of rooms. It was run by an elderly couple who gave us a warm welcome, he was formerly an employee of the Dutch government. We being well suited were given the choice of two lovely rented rooms in the old building and were trusted with the run of the house including their beautifully decorated private lounge, though the mandi was in a separate block. They hoped we would be able to speak to them in Dutch, a language in which they were fluent but was no longer of much use since independence from the Dutch in 1945. They are intent on making Tapak Tuan a favoured venue in the province of Acheh. The annex was chiefly used by lorry drivers.
After dinner we were pursued by a guide working for the Tourist Board who showed us great deal of information about the town including Pulau Banyak. We agreed to go with him tomorrow to Dark Cave out of sympathy for his efforts struggling with an inadequate knowledge of English.
Wed 15May
We went to Dark Cave with a German couple the walking was fairly easy but care was needed because of the big drops into the river below. We descended to the river using a rope belayed to a tree then walked up the river into the cave. At times we waded in the cave up to our waists and I clambered up the rocks to reach a swimming pool, the German girl decided against the descent so we crisscrossed the river to return by rope. It was as rough and ready as Joan had expected so three hours later we were back in TapakTuan.
That night Joan and I went to watch the spectacular sunset. I climbed high on the radio aerial structure leaving Joan at ground level, when I came down and it was dark and I shouted in vain for her, searched the rocky promontory increasingly convinced she had fallen off the rocky cliffs into the sea, and panicked. I wrote about it later and got second prize (£50) in the SAMWAW (South and Mid-Wales and West country) writers annual weekend in Abergavenny which that year specialised in Travel Writing - not bad I thought for my first competition. Jan Morris was the star tutor though not the competition judge. You can read the article in the blog devoted to my travel writing.
16 May
We intended to go to Tingkat Tujuh a waterfall of seven levels some 17km south but a man of Indian extraction, selling newspapers in the street convinced me to go instead to Air Dingin because there would be celebration of school leavers plus a fine waterfall, a fine beach and a restaurant.
A photo of the crowd hangs in my entrance hall representative of perhaps the 100 leavers from a variety of local schools and is now never likely to be superseded. Every student and every teacher who approached us that day was extremely friendly though their enthusiasm was rather wearing given the restrictions of language. "My name is Brian hers is Joan, we come from England have three children aged 34, 32 and 29 and three granddaughters" It was even more wearing when we decided to climb the waterfall to escape and still found ourselves the centre of inquisitive attraction.
Eventually we climbed high enough to evade them sat on a rock bathing our feet in the pool below watching the kids taking their mandi virtually fully clothed. We were later to meet in the restaurant with the group in the pool below us who were observed having a particularly boisterous time.
That was on our second visit to the restaurant on the other sea side of the road where we found Kelapa (coconut) Moda for 500r with a straw and a spoon was a much better choice than a small bottle of soda for twice the price. They were a great crowd mainly school leavers. Lela 19 was particularly talkative, though initially reluctant to try her English, was going to university in Banda Acheh for six years. I worked hard at my Indonesian because their English was poor, it was fun with my dictionary at hand and their patience so we made a lot of headway.
As Joan later observed they were very open and direct in the exchanges, remarking on our red skin, long noses and hair, and in turn about each other, the scarred face of a boy which had resulted from an allergic reaction, their differing origins - he's from Vietman, he's from Irian Jaya.
We shared a bus back to Tapaktuan except that we sidetracked a great deal because many lived in lovely nearby villages which had a fine balance between house and garden and everywhere there was a volleyball game in progress.
That evening after eating we were walking along the main drag and cheekily looked into a front room, which was normally we thought a material shop. It had been cleared of its usual fixtures and was being elaborately decorated ready for a wedding.
Immediately we were set at ease by gestures to come in and sit with many other Sumatrans on the carpet. We were offered a drink and watched the ongoing decoration. At first nothing was said until I broke the ice with siapa berkahwin, whose getting married. The attractive young girl that night in long tight Lake Toba shorts was to be the bride and her husband was also pointed out. They insisted on getting us to pose so they could take us with our own camera photo sitting us on the marriage rostrum and then asking to stand in front with our arms around each other.
Joan in turn took many photographs for our own records and the bride handed me a written note, don't forget to send them to the address above, Jangan lupa dikirim kealamat di atas.
Not content they wanted to show us the room prepared for the bridal suite fit for a movie star upstairs and get that photographed too.
Next door was the couples private dressing room decorated in similar style to the ceremonial room below.
They asked us to come back Monday 20th for the wedding itself and to make a record of the marriage ceremony. We did indeed send a large packet of photographs to the address given but never receive any notification of receipt so we think they may never have been delivered.
17 October
Remembering from Norman Lewis's book on Acheh, which his driver visited with great foreboding. Acheh in those days was in the midst of an uprising and Norman himself couldn't conclude whether or not it was safe to visit. We took a bus to one of the villages he had liked, Kuta Buloh, delighted at the small town and were soon admiring the river from the new steel bridge. It was full of activity, men fishing with rods and nets whilst the womenfolk did the washing in it and the children played.
Clearly few tourists visit since the people were very friendly and obviously would have liked to communicate but having no language with could only stare. Unfortunately I was a little too tired to want to exercise my knowledge of Indonesian
Walking along the river we discovered it was 2km to the sea and the water was in fact a land locked lagoon not of mangrove but of palm tree swamps. It was in these swamps that Joan thought I picked up the tick on my head which was be a concern for the next few days.
We saw fish being laid out to dry presumably those netted by the men we had seen scouring the water with their nets.
Back in Tapaktuan we organised to travel onto Meulaboh tomorrow, but on the advice of the Barit Barisan owner's wife we altered the next stay to the tree houses at Calang. We were just in time to see the small canoes with outriggers set out in sail.
In the night market for dinner we got chatting with Bob a Belgian who was staying at the hotel next to us and told him of our ticket for Calang via Meulaboh. He was going as well so we agreed to meet for the early start on the 6.30 bus. Two Dutch girls who arrived that day at Bukit Barisan recommended staying at Hassan's bungaloes at Kwala rather than the house in the trees.
That evening we walked past the wedding house and were immediately invited in to find the wedding preliminaries in full swing. The bride was now in an elaborate sari, a huge contrast in itself to the young modern westernised girl in knee length shorts of yesterday. In our opinion she was less attractive than the previous evening and looked ill at ease at being the centre of so much attraction.
The downstairs room was packed mainly with women and children sitting on the carpeted floor. The bride was sitting the decorated bench seat prepared for the couple. The official photographer was there with his video camera and had set up flood lights which should help to ensure we too have good photographs.
On a round decorated table was a round tray with a heap of saffron rice, a bowl of water and a container of sugar. The
ceremony consisted of sprinkling the bride with saffron rice and then
sprinkle her with water from a cone of banana leaf, finally sprinkling
her with sugar. Finally we were photographed by the official
photographer standing on either side of the bride.This night was given over to blessing, well wishing, the bride by a series of family members. A series of uncles gave their blessing followed by a similar number of aunts.
Then we too were invited to add our blessing.
The final part of the proceedings was for aunts to paint the brides fingers, toes and palms, with a mixture of beetle nut, clay and water. Following which the same was done to Joan's left hand with the instructions to leave it alone all night to allow it to harden after which it would take a month to fade.
Off to Tapaktuan a town which did not even get a mention in the 13 pages devoted to the large province of Banda Acheh in an edition part written by the founder Tony Wheeler the founder of the Lonely Planet. Yet it is the place of which we have the fondest memories of all Sumatra, made most poignant by the tragedy of the tsunami eight years later on boxing day 2004 and the certainty that few, if any, of the lovely people we met would have survived.
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| TAPAKTUAN |
14 May
In their usual fashion people helped us find a bus to Sidikalang and were pleasantly surprised to find the road better quality than the Trans Sumatra Highway, to begin with it was vegetable farming like Berestagi but soon we were back into tropical rain forest. The road access to this region had recently been improved. At Sidikalang we got a minibus to Tapaktuan with of evidence of forestry with lots of trees felled awaiting collection, the native wood was being replaced with Palm Oil trees. There was also evidence of Trans Settlements, probably people being moved from Java, much wooden building and subsistence farming.
The the bus driver dropped us at an convenient Losmen in Tapsaktuan, and indicated also the market now being set up opposite with a night market for dinner. This time the choice was excellent for Bukit Barisan (name taken from mountain spine of Sumatra) was a lovely old wooden Dutch Colonial style building, the most imposing in town, plus an annexe of rooms. It was run by an elderly couple who gave us a warm welcome, he was formerly an employee of the Dutch government. We being well suited were given the choice of two lovely rented rooms in the old building and were trusted with the run of the house including their beautifully decorated private lounge, though the mandi was in a separate block. They hoped we would be able to speak to them in Dutch, a language in which they were fluent but was no longer of much use since independence from the Dutch in 1945. They are intent on making Tapak Tuan a favoured venue in the province of Acheh. The annex was chiefly used by lorry drivers.
 |
| Fishing boat docks in Tapaktuan |
Wed 15May
We went to Dark Cave with a German couple the walking was fairly easy but care was needed because of the big drops into the river below. We descended to the river using a rope belayed to a tree then walked up the river into the cave. At times we waded in the cave up to our waists and I clambered up the rocks to reach a swimming pool, the German girl decided against the descent so we crisscrossed the river to return by rope. It was as rough and ready as Joan had expected so three hours later we were back in TapakTuan.
That night Joan and I went to watch the spectacular sunset. I climbed high on the radio aerial structure leaving Joan at ground level, when I came down and it was dark and I shouted in vain for her, searched the rocky promontory increasingly convinced she had fallen off the rocky cliffs into the sea, and panicked. I wrote about it later and got second prize (£50) in the SAMWAW (South and Mid-Wales and West country) writers annual weekend in Abergavenny which that year specialised in Travel Writing - not bad I thought for my first competition. Jan Morris was the star tutor though not the competition judge. You can read the article in the blog devoted to my travel writing.
16 May
We intended to go to Tingkat Tujuh a waterfall of seven levels some 17km south but a man of Indian extraction, selling newspapers in the street convinced me to go instead to Air Dingin because there would be celebration of school leavers plus a fine waterfall, a fine beach and a restaurant.
A photo of the crowd hangs in my entrance hall representative of perhaps the 100 leavers from a variety of local schools and is now never likely to be superseded. Every student and every teacher who approached us that day was extremely friendly though their enthusiasm was rather wearing given the restrictions of language. "My name is Brian hers is Joan, we come from England have three children aged 34, 32 and 29 and three granddaughters" It was even more wearing when we decided to climb the waterfall to escape and still found ourselves the centre of inquisitive attraction.
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| School leavers at Air Dingin |
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| Mobbed by students at Air Dingin |
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| Higher up waterfall at Air Dingin |
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| Lela (right) and students discuss |
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| The Beach at Air Dingin |
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| Air Dingin |
That evening after eating we were walking along the main drag and cheekily looked into a front room, which was normally we thought a material shop. It had been cleared of its usual fixtures and was being elaborately decorated ready for a wedding.
 |
| Men make final touches to decoration in form of streamers |
 |
| Brian and Joan pose for our photo |
Not content they wanted to show us the room prepared for the bridal suite fit for a movie star upstairs and get that photographed too.
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| Bridal suite movie style |
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| Upstairs Dressing Room |
17 October
Remembering from Norman Lewis's book on Acheh, which his driver visited with great foreboding. Acheh in those days was in the midst of an uprising and Norman himself couldn't conclude whether or not it was safe to visit. We took a bus to one of the villages he had liked, Kuta Buloh, delighted at the small town and were soon admiring the river from the new steel bridge. It was full of activity, men fishing with rods and nets whilst the womenfolk did the washing in it and the children played.
Clearly few tourists visit since the people were very friendly and obviously would have liked to communicate but having no language with could only stare. Unfortunately I was a little too tired to want to exercise my knowledge of Indonesian
 |
| Fishing the lagoon with nets at Kuta Buloh |
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| Lagoon and Palm trees at Kuta Buloh |
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| Drying gutted and flattened fish |
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| Sailing Canoes with outriggers at Tapaktuan |
That evening we walked past the wedding house and were immediately invited in to find the wedding preliminaries in full swing. The bride was now in an elaborate sari, a huge contrast in itself to the young modern westernised girl in knee length shorts of yesterday. In our opinion she was less attractive than the previous evening and looked ill at ease at being the centre of so much attraction.
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| Blessing from an uncle, note the childrens' bird's eye view |
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| Blessing from uncle |
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| Brian sprinkles with water |
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| Joan sprinkles rice into her hand |
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| Aunts decorate fingers, palms and toes of bride with a Beetle nut mixture. |
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