Across the Equator: A Holiday Trip in Java

First Impressions of Batavia.

When consideration is given to the fact that Java is only two days' steaming from Singapore, that it is more beautiful in some respects than Japan, that it contains marvellous archaeological remains over 1,100 years old, and that its hill resorts form ideal resting places for the jaded European, it is strange that few of the British residents throughout the Far East, or travellers East and West, have visited the Dutch Colony.

The average Britisher, weaving the web of empire, passes like a shuttle in the loom from London to Yokohama, from Hongkong to Marseilles. He thinks imperially in that he thinks no other nation has Colonies worth seeing. British port succeeds British port on the hackneyed line of travel, and he may be excused if he forgets that these convenient calling places, these links of Empire, can have possible rivals under foreign flags.

There is no excuse for the prevailing ignorance of the Netherland Indies. We do not wish it to be inferred that we imagine we have discovered Java, as Dickens is said to have discovered Italy, but we believe we are justified in saying that few have realised the possibilities of Java as a health resort and the attractions it has to offer for a holiday.

Miss Marianne North, celebrated as painter and authoress and the rival of Miss Mary Kingsley and Mrs. Bishop (Isabella Bird) as a traveller in unfrequented quarters of the globe, has described the island as one magnificent garden, surpassing Brazil, Jamaica and other countries visited by her, and possessing the grandest of volcanoes; and other famous travellers have written in terms of the highest praise of its natural beauties.

Its accessibility is one of its recommendations to the holiday maker. The voyage across the Equator from Singapore is a smooth one, for the most part through narrow straits and seldom out of sight of islands clad with verdure down to the water's edge.

Excellent accommodation is provided by the Rival Dutch Mail steamers running between Europe and Java and the Royal Packet Company's local steamers, and the Government of the Netherland Indies co-operates with a recently-formed Association for the encouragement of tourist traffic on the lines of the Welcome Society in Japan. This Association has a bureau, temporarily established in the Hotel des Indes in Batavia, to provide information and travelling facilities for tourists, not only throughout Java, but amongst the various islands that are being brought under the sway of civilised government by the Dutch Colonial forces.

As our steamer pounded her way out of Singapore Harbour in the early morning, islands appeared to spring out of the sea, and seascape after seascape followed in rapid succession, suggesting the old-fashioned panoramic pictures of childhood's acquaintance. One's idea of scenery, after all, is more or less a matter of comparison. One passenger compares the scene with the Kyles of Bute; another with the Inland Sea of Japan, at the other end of the world. Yet, this tropical waterway is unlike either, and has a characteristic individuality of its own, none the less charming because of the comparisons it suggests and the associations it recalls.

We spent a good deal of our time on the bridge with the Captain, who was courteous enough to point out all the leading points on his chart.

The Sultanate of Rhio lies on the port bow, four hours' sail from Singapore. Glimpses of Sumatra are obtained on the starboard, and on the way the steamer passes near to the Island of Banka, reputed to contain the richest tin deposits in the world. This tin is worked by the Government of the Netherland Indies, with Chinese contract labour; and the revenue obtained is an important factor in balancing the Colonial Budget. It is interesting to note that the Chinese, who have long mined for gold and tin in the Malay Peninsula and Archipelago, were quite familiar with the rich nature of Banka's soil two hundred years ago, and that tin from this island was then a common medium of exchange in China and throughout the Far East wherever the adventurous Chinese merchant had penetrated.

The visitor landing at Tandjong Priok, the port of Batavia, after his experience of other Far Eastern ports, cannot fail to be struck by the excellence of the arrangements for berthing vessels and for storing cargo. We British people are so accustomed to the idea that our ports are the best and our trading arrangements unequalled that we are astonished when we discover that our shipping and commercial rivals know how to do some things better than ourselves, and that all wisdom is not to be found within the confines of England and among the people who are proud to own it as their place of birth. Our Far Eastern ports owe their supremacy to geographical position almost entirely. We have realised that during recent years in Singapore, and in our haste to correct the mistakes of former officials and residents, the Straits Settlements paid rather heavily when they expropriated the Tanjong Pagar Company which owned the wharves, docks and warehouses. Tandjong Priok may not handle the shipping that Tanjong Pagar does, but if they were called upon to do so, we have not the least doubt that our Dutch neighbours would rise readily to the occasion.

There is a Customs examination at Tandjong Priok. In our own case, it was a mere formality, the new duty on imported cameras not applying to our well-used kodak, since it was being taken out of the country again. But we could not help contrasting to the disadvantage of Singapore the examination of Chinese and other Asiatic passengers. Theoretically, in Singapore, there is no Customs service. It is a free port, and so, theoretically, one may land there free of vexatious examinations, such as one experiences at some Continental ports or on the wharves at San Francisco. But, as a matter of fact, they who have occasion to walk along the sea front in Singapore may see Asiatic passengers at any of the landing places turning out their baggage in sun or rain, while chentings--the hirelings of the rich Chinese Syndicate which "farms" or leases the opium and spirit monopolies--examine it for opium or spirits. There is no proper landing place, absolutely no proper arrangements for overhauling baggage, with the result that these poor Asiatics are subjected to examination under conditions that are a disgrace to a place which arrogates a front place in the seaports of the world.

They do things better at Tandjong Priok.

There is a brief journey by train to Batavia, and there the visitor, having handed over his baggage to the care of the hotel runners at Tandjong Priok, ought to take a sado for conveyance to the particular hotel he has selected. The word sado is a corruption of "dos-a-dos." The vehicle is drawn by a small pony, and is not comparable with the ricksha for comfort, though the long distances may make the ricksha an impossibility in Batavia.

Batavia is favoured in that it has a choice of several good hotels. Whoever selects the Hotel Nederland or the Hotel des Indes will say that the other "best Hotels in the Far East" have something yet to learn in the accommodation of visitors, general cleanliness, and moderation of prices.

One of the first things one ought to do after arrival is to obtain the "toelatingskaart," at the Town Hall. Armed with this document, which, most probably, he will never be called upon to show, the tourist may travel in the interior. Without it, he may have trouble.

Batavia shares with the French ports of Saigon and Hanoi the honour of more resembling a European town than any other ports in the Far East. This, of course, is a matter of opinion, though it is based on acquaintance with every port of importance from Yokohama to Penang, including the principal ports of the Philippines, and we were somewhat surprised, therefore, when expressing this opinion to a Dutch friend, with his reply:

"When I left Singapore, with its fine buildings I felt I had said good-bye to Europe!"

A little probing soon showed that it was only the two and three-storeyed houses that created this impression.

One has only to stroll along the Noordwijk in the afternoon and evening to appreciate the difference between Batavia and Singapore. After sundown, so far as Europeans are concerned, with the exception of the little life seen under the electric light of Raffles Hotel and the Hotel de l'Europe, Singapore is a dead place. Hongkong is no better. In Batavia it is different. Up to the dinner hour, and after, there is a considerable amount of life and light and animation, and if it be a stretch of the imagination to compare the Noordwijk or the Rijswijk with the Boulevard des Capuchins in Paris, or its open air restaurants with the Cafe de la Paix, it is at least within comparison to say that the resemblance to a Continental town is sufficiently marked to be welcome, while one can have as choice a dinner or supper, with superb wines, in Stamm and Weijns or the Hotel des Indes as in the best restaurants of London and Paris. Not the least noticeable feature of all to the observant visitor will be the punctilio and excellence of the waiting of the Javanese table boys. When one saw the carefulness with which each dish was served, and the superior nature of the side dishes, one thought with a shudder of the sloppy vegetables, the dusty marmalade, and the slipshod waiting of the China boy in some of the hotels it had been our misfortune to patronise in British Colonies.

In this quarter, the wives and daughters of the Dutch and foreign merchants drive in comfortable rubber-tyred carriages, having first driven to the business quarter to bring home the "tuan besar" or head of the family. Greetings are exchanged with friends by the way, and, while the young folks stroll off in happy groups, the elders alight to drink beer or wine at one or other of the famous open-air restaurants. There is a general air of prosperity and a spirit of gaiety which one does not usually associate with our Dutch cousins in the depressing humid atmosphere of Holland. One soon catches the spirit of the place the more readily if one has spent any time on the Continent.

On band nights the Harmonie or Concordia Clubs, two beautiful and commodious buildings replete with every comfort, become the rendezvous of old and young, and dancing is kept up till half-past eight o'clock. It must be confessed that it made one perspire to see the dancers tread a measure to a popular waltz, but there could be no question of the enjoyment of those who participated.

There are two Batavias. There is the old town, founded in 1619 as the capital of the Dutch East Indies upon the ruins of the ancient city of Jakatra. This is the portion of the town where the business is done, with the famous Kali Besar, the Lombard Street and Fenchurch Street of Batavia.

The quarter is not particularly attractive. But after experience of the filthy Chinese quarters of Singapore, Hongkong and Shanghai, it is satisfying to European self-respect to observe how Dutch officialdom has asserted the claims of hygiene and cleanliness upon the Asiatic residents. The objectionable hanging Chinese signboards are noticeably absent in Batavia, as in all other towns throughout Java, and something has been done to make less clamant the odoriferous articles of Chinese commerce. The Dutch have proved that the Chinese are amenable to European notions if only firmness is shown by those in authority.