TRAVELLING AND HOTELS.
Area--Climate--Permission to travel--Chief objects of
interest--Means of locomotion--Language--Hotels.
Of the many travellers who have written accounts of their visits to
Java, not one has been explicit in his directions as to the ways and
means of reaching the various interesting objects which he has
described. This may partly be accounted for by the fact that there are,
indeed, no Titanic difficulties to be encountered. The districts to be
traversed are furnished with excellent roads, and in part with railways,
contain large and civilized towns, and are inhabited by a peaceable and
industrious population. The difficulties, such as they are, can be
overcome by the two necessaries for all except the most hackneyed
excursions--time and money. In Java the former is, if anything, more
important than the latter.
Java--with which is included for all purposes the little island of
Madura, lying off its north-eastern coast--is a long narrow island six
degrees south of the equator. It is 630 miles long, and averages 100
miles in breadth. Its area is 51,961 square miles, an extent slightly
greater than that of England; and the present population reaches a total
of twenty-three millions. Like all the islands of the Malay Archipelago,
its surface is diversified by great mountains (generally volcanic) and
extensive plains. It is poorly supplied with minerals; coal is there,
but not in workable quantities; perhaps the only valuable mineral
products are the clay, which is made into bricks, earthenware, and
porcelain, and the deposits of salt in the Government mines.
On the other hand, the soil is proverbially fertile. The chief products
are best exhibited in connection with the four botanical zones into
which Junghuhn has divided the island according to elevation:
I. From the seaboard Tropical. Rice, sugar, cinnamon,
to 2000 feet. cotton, maize.
II. From 2000 feet to Moderately hot. Coffee, tea, cinchona,
4500 feet. sugar-palm.
III. From 4500 feet to Moderately cool. Indian corn, tobacco,
7500 feet. cabbage, potatoes.
IV. From 7500 feet to Cold. European flora.
12,000 feet.
The climate varies in accordance with these zones. Observations made at
Batavia (on the coast), the only place where a record covering a
sufficient period has been kept, give a mean of 78.69° for a period of
twelve years. The monthly mean shows a variation of only two degrees.
The period from April to November, when the south-east trade winds
prevail, called the dry or east monsoon, is slightly warmer than the
remaining six months which make up the rainy season. The heaviest
rainfall is in the months of December, January, and February. The chief
characteristic of the climate of Java is, therefore, not so much its
heat as its equability: it is rarely wet all day long even in the wet
season, and at least one shower may be expected each day in the dry.
In spite of its great heat Java is generally healthy, and, in cases of
simple bronchitis, the climate is positively helpful. Of course the
mountain districts are preferable to the plains, but in the ordinary
routes traversed by travellers there are no conditions to be encountered
which are adverse to persons in the enjoyment of ordinary health.
Buitenzorg (close to Batavia), the summer residence of the
Governor-General, a place which is to Dutch India what Simla is to
British India, is especially healthy, being some seven hundred feet
above sea-level. Tosari, again, in the eastern part of the island, is a
recognized sanatorium. It has a capital hotel, and lies at an elevation
of six thousand feet above sea-level. This latter place is easily
reached in one day from Soerabaia; and close by is Mount Bromo, one of
the most active volcanoes in Java, and one which is always covered with
smoke. A three-mile walk will give the visitor an opportunity of seeing
the boiling crater--a magnificent spectacle. Mount S'meroe, the highest
mountain in Java (12,000 feet), is also in the neighbourhood.
The best time to travel is the dry season, April to November, when the
nights are cooler and the weather brighter; and, of course, in
travelling by carriage, arrangements should be made to avoid proceeding
during the hottest part of the day as much as possible.
The Dutch are nothing if they are not methodical, and in order to travel
in Java certain formalities, which at first sight appear somewhat
formidable, but which are really matters of form, have to be gone
through. Any person intending to remain in the island for more than
twenty-four hours must register his name with the police, and give them
particulars of his age, birthplace, profession, last place of residence,
the ship in which he arrived, and the name of its captain. He thereupon
receives a document entitled _Toetlakings-kaart_ ("admission ticket"),
which states that the person so named and described arrived at a certain
date, "with the intention of residing in Netherlands India," and that
he is permitted, "by authority of the ordinance of March 12, 1872, to
reside in any of the chief harbours or ports open for general trade, and
also at Buitenzorg." It is signed by the Assistant-Resident of Batavia.
This "admission-ticket" is not sufficient to authorize the new arrival
to travel in the interior. For this purpose a second and still more
imposing document must be obtained. This is an extract from the register
of "decisions" of the Governor-General, and is to the effect that the
petition of the undersigned So-and-so has been read, and "that the
Governor-General has been pleased to grant him permission to travel for
six months in Java."
If the visitor wishes to enjoy any sport he will require a third
document, signed by the Resident, to entitle him to "import the
following weapon and ammunition, namely," his gun, "which is intended
for his own use." It will be a relief to the reader to know that in my
own case the documents confirming the grant of all these privileges
were obtained at the cost of half a crown for stamps.
Batavia, the capital of Java and the seat of government of the Dutch
possessions in the East, is distant two hundred and fifty miles from
Samarang, and four hundred from Soerabaia, the ports which respectively
"tap" the populous central and eastern districts. While these two latter
towns are connected by rail with each other, communication with Batavia
is maintained at present by steamboats and post-carriages, since there
is a break of one hundred and twenty miles--from Garoet, the terminus of
the western railway, to Tjilatjap, a port on the southern coast--in the
trunk line which is eventually to unite the whole island. Batavia,
however, in spite of this drawback, is the natural starting-point for
the visitor. In the first place, it is the port of call of the principal
steamboat companies which connect Java with Australia, British India,
China, and Europe; and in the next, being the seat of government and
containing the chief political and scientific authorities, it is the
centre from which information and assistance of all kinds may be
obtained. In particular, I would recommend a visit to the museum of
antiquities at Batavia as an introduction to the study not only of the
Hindu remains, but also of the native industries and manner of life.
The subjects of special interest in Java may be grouped under five
heads--the Hindu antiquities, the native towns, the plantations,
tropical plant-life, and sport. In the case of the three latter, the
several neighbourhoods required to be visited are easily accessible from
Batavia by the western railway. Soekaboemi, the centre of the coffee and
cinchona plantations, and the head-quarters of the Planters'
Association, is fifty miles distant. Buitenzorg, with its famous
botanical gardens, is within an hour and a half's journey. Here, in the
various Government gardens and plantations, the plant-life of the whole
Malay Archipelago is conveniently exhibited, both in its scientific and
industrial aspects, and a strangers' laboratory is specially provided
for scientific visitors. The Preanger Regencies--the best place for
sport--may be described roughly as occupying the southern half of the
western portion of the island. The chief towns of this
district--Tjandjoer, Bandong, and Garoet--are all connected with Batavia
by the same line of railway. Of these, Tjandjoer is the residence of the
native prince, the Regent of Tjandjoer, who is the chief patron of
horse-racing in Java.
But the largest of the native towns and those in the neighbourhood of
which the most important of the Hindu remains are to be found, such as
Soerabaia, Samarang, Solo, Djokja, and Magalang, are situated in the
centre and east of the island. As I have before explained, the western
and eastern railways are not yet connected, and therefore the railway
alone will no longer be sufficient to convey the traveller to his basis
of operations. In planning his journey to these towns he will have to
weigh the relative advantages of three routes, and to consider the
opportunities offered by three means of locomotion--railway, steamboat,
and post-carriage.
In another place[4] I have given in detail, with full information as to
distances and expenses, the three possible routes to the temples from
Batavia, and therefore I need speak here only in general terms.
[Footnote 4: Appendix.]
The principal coast towns can be reached by the steamships of the
Netherlands India Company (or its successor), which average about 1000
tons, and are said to be fairly comfortable. As the fares are
comparatively high, most people will prefer to avoid the discomforts
incidental to a steamboat, augmented by the conditions of the
place--natives and strange food. In travelling by road very considerable
fatigue must be undergone, and of course the expense is greater than
that incurred in travelling by rail or steamboat. Also, as in such
travelling smaller towns and less-known districts are traversed, it is
especially desirable to have a "boy," or native servant (who can talk
English), to communicate with the natives in the Javanese and Sundanese
dialects, since in the out-of-the-way districts Malay is not
understood. The railways are much the same as elsewhere, except that
the rate of travelling is slower and the cost of travelling rather more
than usual. As part of the railways are held by private companies, there
is a slight variation in both of these particulars on different lines.
The construction of railways in Java began in 1875. Ten years later
there were 261 miles of private, and 672 miles of Government, railways
open for traffic. Since then this extent has been increased, but in 1891
the railway system was still incomplete, by reason of the gap between
Garoet and Tjilatjap.
There is another important consideration which will affect the choice of
routes and of means of conveyance, and that is the question of language.
The natives in the big towns and all servants in hotels and private
houses speak Malay, which is the official language for communication
between them and the Europeans. There is always supposed to be one man
in each native village (or campong) who can speak this language. Malay
handbooks are published in Singapore, and although such books cannot be
_bought_, as far as I know, in Batavia, they can often be _borrowed_;
or, failing this, a few necessary phrases can be written down. Such a
phrase, for example, as this: _Apa nama ini?_ ("What is the name of
this?") will serve to supply the place of many vocabularies. The
language, which from its soft sounding has been called "the Italian of
the Tropics," is very simple, and seems to consist almost exclusively of
nouns (_i.e._ substantives, adjectives, and pronouns). The verb "to be"
and prepositions are often omitted, _e.g. Pighi bawa ini Tuan X--_ = "Go
[and] take this [to] Mr. X----;" and most substantives can be formed
into verbs. Combinations of substantives are used; e.g. _Kreta api_
("fire-carriages") = "railway." Again, many European words are adopted
bodily. In _sadoe_ a Frenchman will easily recognize a corruption of
_dos-à-dos_; _ayer brandy_ (or _ayer whisky_), literally "water-brandy,"
will present no difficulties to the average Englishman. "Butter" is
_mentega_, a Portuguese word. The vowels have the same value as in the
Continental languages.[5]
[Footnote 5: The combination _oe_ is pronounced [_macron-u_] (or
_oo_).]
It is obvious that the few words and phrases necessary for everyday life
can be easily acquired in such a language, and most people will find the
process rather amusing than otherwise. If, however, it is desired to
escape this trouble, or to gain a more complete knowledge of the ideas
of the natives, a "boy" who speaks English can be secured at Batavia,
who will act as valet and interpreter.[6] In communicating with the
Dutch residents and the European shop-people in the towns, there is no
difficulty experienced, since nearly every one can speak English; if
not, recourse can be had to French or German.
[Footnote 6: The cost of such a "boy" is very small (labour
being one thing which is cheap in the island). He is paid from
16 to 18 florins (12 florins = £1) a month; and when travelling
it is usual to give him a half-florin a day for food, otherwise
the hotel charge for servants, one florin a day, must be paid.]
In addition to obtaining the formal permission to travel already
mentioned, in order to see native ceremonies and enjoy big-game
shooting, it is necessary to get recommendations to the residents of the
native regencies, and in any case it is desirable to have as many
private introductions as possible.
But, however well supplied with such recommendations they may be, all
travellers are sure to be more or less dependent on hotels. In Java, as
in other tropical countries, the hotels are large one or two storied
buildings, with rows of rooms opening upon broad verandahs screened with
bamboo blinds, and arranged round courtyards planted with trees. The
general living-room and the dining-room have one or more sides open to
the air, and are arranged with a view to coolness. The style of cooking
in Dutch India is different from that in British India, and has one
special peculiarity the--_rice table_, which will be described
hereafter; and of course there are minor differences, depending upon the
conditions of the place and society. To persons who are prepared to
enjoy life (and this is the spirit in which one should travel), the
little eccentricities and deficiencies will be a source of amusement,
and give additional zest to the travelling experience. But no invalid or
dyspeptic should enter the portals of a Javan hotel. As for
accommodation, suites of rooms can be engaged, but the ordinary
traveller has a large bedroom with the proportion of the verandah
belonging to it; this latter is fitted with a bamboo screen, table and
chairs, and a hanging lamp, and is for all intents and purposes a
sitting-room. The bedroom also is furnished with a view of securing
coolness; the floor is covered with matting, and the furniture is not
very luxurious; its chief feature is a tremendous bedstead. Now, a Javan
bedstead is quite _sui generis_, and requires a ground plan. The
ordinary size is six feet square. It is completely covered with mosquito
curtains, and has no clothes, the broad expanse being broken by two
pillows for the head and a long bolster (called a Dutch wife) which lies
at right angles to the pillows. This latter is one of the numerous
contrivances for securing coolness. The ordinary routine of hotel life
is much the same as elsewhere in the island. At half-past six a coolie
comes to the door and awakes you, bringing tea or coffee when you want
it. Some time subsequently you proceed in pyjamas, or (if a lady) in a
_kabaia_ (or loose jacket) and _sarong_ (native dress) to the bath-room,
which is an important feature in every Eastern hotel. Generally
speaking, it is not so very much removed from what Mr. Ruskin would
desire. It is a large room with bare walls and a marble floor, on which
is placed a cistern or jar of water, from which water is taken with a
hand-bucket and poured over the bather, who stands upon a wooden
framework. The water runs away from the edges of the room, but I never
felt _quite_ sure that it didn't come back again afterwards. The walls
are sometimes decorated with mirrors, and there is often an arrangement
for a shower-bath. But very generally the bather has nothing but bare
walls and a huge earthen jar such as Aladdin and the forty thieves would
use at Drury Lane. At Singapore this same arrangement obtains, and there
it is related that a young midshipman, going to the bath-room and being
confronted by a bare interior with nothing but the big jar in the
middle of it, very naturally concluded that _this_ was the bath. He
quickly stripped and got into it; but once in he found it impossible to
get out again. After vain endeavours, he rolled the big jar over bodily,
and, smashing it on the floor, triumphantly emerged from the fragments.
His friends afterwards pointed out to him that there was a hand-bucket
there, and enlightened him as to its uses.
Breakfast consists of light breads, eggs, cold meat in thin strips, and
fruit, and is served about nine. After breakfast any serious business
should be accomplished before the great heat of the day sets in. At
12.30 rice-table (or tiffin) commences. This is a serious meal, and must
carry you on till eight o'clock in the evening. The first dish, or
rather series of dishes, is that from which the meal takes its
name--_rice-table_. In partaking of this the visitor first places some
boiled rice upon a soup plate, and then on the top of it as many
portions of some eight or ten dishes which are immediately brought as he
cares to take--omelette, curry, chicken, fish, macaroni, spice-pudding,
etc.; and, lastly, he selects some strange delicacies from an octagonal
dish with several kinds of prepared vegetables, pickled fish, etc., in
its nine compartments. After this comes a salad, some solid meat (such
as beefsteak), sweets, and fruit. Finger-glasses are always provided,
and one notices that the salt is always moist, and also that it is not
customary to provide spoons for that article. At four, or thereabouts,
tea is brought to your room. This serves to rouse you from your siesta,
and you then proceed (being by this time again in pyjamas) to take your
second bath. After that, European garments are worn, and it is cool
enough either for driving or walking. The dinner, which is served at
eight, is much like an ordinary _à la Russe_ dinner, except that there
are rather more small vegetable dishes than is customary elsewhere.
In the Hôtel der Nederlanden at Batavia (and there are plenty of others
like it) there is something of the life which is described as belonging
to the baths in ancient Roman watering-places. Imagine a long courtyard,
with deep verandahs, trees only screening you from the opposite side;
around you men in pyjamas, with their feet resting on the arms of their
easy-chairs, smoking or taking various iced drinks from long glasses;
ladies dressed in the beautiful native garment (the _sarong_) and the
lace-trimmed white jacket (the _kabaia_), promenading with children.
Opposite you is a little Dutch maiden, whose golden hair and white skin
contrasts with the dark complexion of her _baboe_, or nurse. She is
dressed in a flowing white robe, and is putting on her stockings in the
most _negligé_ attitude, for it is now time to go out--4 p.m.--while her
mother stands by and scolds her. Everywhere coolies are squatting on the
ground in their bright garments, or standing busied with the ordinary
duties of service, and _baboes_ are playing with their little charges.
You are yourself dressed in such a way that you would probably feel
uncomfortable were you discovered so dressed in your dressing-room at
home; but here you feel perfectly at ease--such is the magical effect of
climate--whether promenading in your loose garments or reclining in
your easy-chair and gazing coolly upon the occupants of the carriages
which cross the courtyard. Or perhaps you are engaged in a
chaffing-match with one of the native vendors--Chinese, Malay, or
Javanese--who are ever ready to persuade you to buy the commonest
trifles at the most fancy prices.
The native servants are very quick and willing to do the visitor's
commands; indeed, disasters generally arise from an excess of diligence
on their part. For instance, in a damp climate it is an excellent
general rule for your "boy" to keep your clothes aired by laying them in
the sun two or three times a week; but it is a trifle embarrassing to a
modest and impecunious person to see the whole of his wardrobe exhibited
_urbi et orbi_ in front of his room on the verandah. The pyjamas,
suspended in airy fashion, floating in the wind; the coats and trousers
hung up on strips of wood so that their full extent is exposed to the
sun and air; the pair of pumps, on which only last night he had
congratulated himself as looking quite smart by gaslight, now standing
confessed in all the unseemliness of bulging sides and torn lining;
even the domestic slippers too. Yet such was the scene which met my gaze
as I returned from breakfast at nine o'clock in the courtyard of the
Hotel Belle Vue at Buitenzorg. _Trop de zèle_, I thought.
[Illustration: CHINESE BARBER.]