Editor’s Note:
This story reflects one family’s personal experiences travelling in Indonesia during an earlier period. Many family attractions, resorts and amusement parks in Indonesia have improved significantly over the years, while others still vary greatly in maintenance, safety standards and supervision. Parents should always assess attractions, rides, beaches and recreational facilities for themselves and decide what is appropriate and safe for their own children. As with family travel anywhere in the world, active parental supervision remains essential.
We’re on holiday.
That should be good, but it has a downside.
I’m crap with free-time.
We decided to head to Tanjung Kodok.
Anyone of you out there with the barest grasp of Indonesian knows that kodok is frog. Here was this villa surrounded by clay frogs.
Ah, but the story doesn’t begin there.
We were to meet the other parents and assorted kidlets at Linda’s house. We arrived dutifully at 8:00 am.
Stupid us.
After assorted fits and starts we got going at 9:30 am.
The car was packed with gear, luggage and small things that made horrendous noise.
After a two-hour drive we arrived at the villa. It was very nice, very modern, and for the first ten minutes it was clean and looked like it might be a relaxing couple of days.
Ha!
First day we visited the zoo.
Less a zoo than a strange park that animals live in.
I will post pictures.
That afternoon we stopped at a restaurant and I ordered the gule kambing (goat chowder), one of my favourites. It wasn’t the bits of bone, it wasn’t the fat, it wasn’t even the rawhide presented as edible. It was the chilli that made me push this away after two valiant attempts to eat it.
This dish is normally one of the more subtly flavoured experiences you can have here. The tender meat, the play of various spices, the rich aroma.
To place this crap before anyone is an insult to food, goats, diners and Indonesia.
That afternoon I took some photos around the rocky beach.
I was congratulating Emily and myself on how well behaved Wyatt was in comparison to the hellions that are his classmates.
The next day was Wyatt’s.
Now I want to preface this. Wyatt is a well-behaved, but active kid. He’s usually a good traveller.
It started simply enough. We had breakfast at the hotel.
Good.
Wyatt acted up a little. After a few calming words from Dad he sat still, or as still as any four-year-old sits.
I got the lecture on how loud my voice is.
It is.
We headed for the park.
Wyatt and I both had swimsuits under our clothes and were prepared to do a quick change as soon as water appeared.
When Wyatt learned swimming was later, he voiced his concerns.
Man, and they thought I was loud.
This went on at every attraction.
Bumper cars (once he was in, he was fine), helicopter ride, small roller coaster, ATV bikes, go-karts.
After the rides ended, the noise began again.
Finally we got to the swimming.
We survived.
We made it back to Surabaya.
I took Wyatt to the bathroom.
Wyatt proceeded to pee before his pants were off, wetting his pants and shoes, meaning happy Dad needed to use most of the hand towels to clean him up.
We ate.
Heading home Wyatt started to screech.
Every head in the restaurant turned.
Wow.
Can’t wait for the next vacation.
P.S. Wyatt has since evolved into a remarkably well-adjusted 10-year-old.
Author: Wayne Duplessis
Our thanks to Wayne Duplessis for sharing this story and his series of short narratives about living in Indonesia—working as a teacher, raising a family, travelling around the country, and the many memorable experiences of expatriate life from 1996 onward.
