Close encounters of the monkey kind

I went to some friends' house last night, where I proceeded to drink 350ml of third-world "vodka." (The clear spirit is probably better than the "whiskey," though, which is a rice liquor with caramel color and something called "whiskey flavor.")(This photo is actually from Christmas, but I may have made this same face at some point last night.)

While the drinking and associated late arrival to my bed did not stop me from leaving Surabaya for the day, it did result in me leaving my backpack with my camera at my friends' house. So I didn't take any pictures on today's trip. My apologies.

I awoke this morning fairly early. I thought it was later than it actually was because I had somehow managed to change my bedroom clock to an hour ahead. So instead of heading to the bus station at 10am, like I had planned, I left the house at 9am.

I got to the bus station and climbed aboard the bus. It left two minutes after I got on, was half-empty, and may have been the only bus in Indonesia with a bathroom. Aside from an awful hangover, or the possibility that I was still drunk, things were running quite smoothly.

I had expected a four or five-hour bus ride, but I arrived in Tuban in two hours.

The sky was drizzling rain, but it soon cleared up. I asked a becak driver about a good restaurant, and he took me to a place. I then had him take me to Goa Akbar, a cave located in the city. The driver asked if I could buy him a ticket, so I did, and he accompanied me into the cave.

The cave is developed for tourism, with paved walkways and railings marking the path. But it is impressive. At one point, the driver said that he thought it was "luar biasa," or extraordinary. I agreed.

He took me back to the center of town to see klenteng Kwan Sing Bio, a chinese temple that wasn't that interesting to me. The driver charged me way too much for his services, but I was feeling generous so I didn't argue. He had been a good companion. I told him I wouldn't need a becak again, but he kept trying to convince me to use his services later in the day. I had told him I wanted to go to the nearby town of Bektiharjo, which is eight kilometers away, and he offered to take me there for an insane price. I told him I would be okay, thanked him again, and then we parted ways.

I walked down the street and hired a bemo to take me to Bektiharjo for way less than half of what the becak driver had quoted. The bemo driver was a sociable and kind old man, and we tried chatting during the drive.

He brought me to the local pool, which has been filled by natural springs. Because of the eye infection that plagued me after my last swimming experience, I wasn't there to swim. I was there to see monkeys.(This is a Balinese monkey, but the Javanese monkeys I saw looked about the same.)

I sat down on a ledge near the playground. One of the local food sellers set her basket of things next to me, and started walking over to one of her friends. A monkey walked up, looked at me, and then started eating one of the crackers from the basket. I called out to the owner of the basket, and she turned to look at me.

Then, I tried to shoo the monkey away by waving my hand in its direction, but the monkey didn't like this at all. He bared his teeth and then tried to lunge at me, but he caught his arms under the edge of the basket, which resulted in the basket getting flipped upside down and all of the food falling to the ground.

The monkey was briefly distracted, so I walked away while he helped himself to a hearty feast.

Later, the old man took me back in to town. I had exhausted my meager itinerary of sightseeing excitement, and it was still early. I decided that it seemed ridiculous to stay in the city and pay for a hotel room, so I abandoned my plans to spend the night and climbed aboard another bus. Home and my own bed were back in Surabaya, waiting.