We move into our room at Adam Homestay in time for breakfast. A little more expensive than our usual haunts, but definitely worth the extra few pounds. Breakfast is served on a terrace surrounded by a little moat which is home to lilies and goldfish. Just across some stepping stones is the swimming pool, a bar and a couple more terraces with tables and chairs. The homestay is western run by a couple who have lived in Java for over 35 years and probably accounts for the delicious home-made bread and the best breakfast we’ve had in a long while. From our balcony, and if I stand on tiptoe, from our shower there is a glimpse of the ocean breakers through swaying palm trees. We have the entire upper floor of this small cottage with a private hallway linking the bedroom, bathroom and balcony. It’s such a luxury to have so much space!
Pangandaran is situated on the south coast of west Java on a small isthmus at the tip of which is a national park and recreation area. On the western side is a long sweep of dark sand beach with pounding surf and towards the northern end, treacherous currents. Stalls, selling rack upon rack of the identical clothes and souvenirs, line one side of the shabby coast road whilst opposite are the warungs with their makeshift seating and plastic tableclothes offering street food and a limited but eclectic mix of other items, from toiletries, sanitary towels to mosquito coils and cigarettes. Hotels abound – there must be 100s if not 1000s of rooms in Pangandaran – many looking tired and in need of some serious TLC.
Pangandaran was hit be a tsumani in 2006 which swept away all the shacks that used to be on the beach and the remains of several ruined buildings remain as evidence of the destruction it caused. It’s oddly quiet for a resort that seems awash with accommodation and despite it being the Indonesian school holidays. Restaurants and warungs are empty, stalls are rarely patronised and dune buggies, bicycles and mopeds stand waiting to be hired.
Hard to believe that Lonely Planet could describe this as Java’s premier seaside resort.
At the southern end of the beach fishing boats with outriggers are beached on the sand, boatmen are touting trips to the white sand beach which lies along the edge of the national park and families are swimming in the sea fully clothed. No sign of any westerners here.
The east side of the isthmus is much quieter and far less commercialised. There are no stalls here and hardly any traffic. There is little in the way of beach either. This is the working side of the village, where the fisherman set nets from the beach and, at the southern end, unpretentious cafes serve up the day’s catch. These cafes are very popular with the Javanese visitors and we are the only western tourists lunching here. As we walk north along the quayside, we stop a while to watch a group of locals spend straining to hauling in a huge net – as if playing a game of tug-o-war with the sea – to retrieve a meagre catch of sardine-size silver fish.
But despite its shabby neglected air, this small seaside village has a certain charm and a beautiful natural setting. The quiet village back streets are attractive and pleasant to wander but few visitors, Indonesian or western, seem to venture there. There is a huge market area consisting of blocks of shop houses many deserted today at least and despite it being only mid afternoon we are among a handful of people browsing. Where is everybody?
Communal mandis (showers) are a prominent feature in Pangandaran and there are signs for them every few yards from which we deduce that few people here have their own bathrooms.
We have a resident gecko somewhere in our rooms that comes to life at night. We haven’t seen him but his loud call in the early evening is unmistakable, rather like the sound from a child’s squeezy toy when the air is forced out and then sucked back in again. A call that somehow doesn’t seem to fit the creature and it has taken many months to work out that it belongs to the gecko.
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