As our stay in Indonesia draws to a close we turn our attention to arranging our onward travel plans and book seats on the air conditioned coach which goes daily from Pangandaran to Jakarta. We’ve already booked our overnight accommodation near Jakarta airport, so all that is left to do is find somewhere to stay in Delhi. Having trawled several websites, the preferred option is to stay with an Indian family rather than dingy, cheap-end hotels. It probably means being out of the centre of Delhi but the experience of staying in an Indian home should more than compensate. So we’ve sent off several emails and are hoping we haven’t left it too late to find something.
We take a stroll along the beach north out of the village, fascinated as ever by the wild sea ; the crashing waves throw up an haze of mist, swirling undercurrents and the waves that seem to criss-cross from every which way causing surf to zip from left to right as oblique waves collide. Why the sea along this stretch should be so dangerous ; the beach is flat and the sea shallow – but there are’ no swimming’ signs at the northern end and several lifeguard towers line the shore.
A few dune buggies scurry along the sand, some driven by young kids. One group passes us making rude gestures and shouting ‘fuck you’ as though they have just learned a new English phrase; very unexpected in a country where everyone is ultra polite and friendly. Despite the buggies the beach is surprisingly quiet given that it is school summer holidays.