Jakarta

We had low expectations of Jakarta. Expectations which were largely met. It’s a giant city crammed with millions of people but with little soul. There’s the National Monument roughly in the centre, which you can go to the top of for the worst view of Jakarta possible, because you can’t see the National Monument. In the event, it was closed on the day we strolled up. Indeed, it’s closed every Monday.

The streets are interesting to walk, to see how ordinary folk live. I’m told there are lots of reasonably cool malls which is where the citizenry like to spend their free time, because there is so little else of any interest. But we gave them a miss. Am I being harsh? The locals I spoke to said much the same to me as I’m saying to thee.

There is one redeeming patch of the city. Batavia, the old Dutch colony from which the rest of the city spread. There are still a number of original buildings, some of which contain museums. One of which contains a bar and restaurant, and it is truly the most fabulous bar and restaurant I’ve ever been in. Well, it’s up there, anyway. Cafe Batavia. If you’re in Jakarta, that’s the one ‘must visit’ for your to do list.

The Dutch are in Indonesia’s history. The present and future belong to a new coloniser, the Chinese. It’s less obvious, but much the same deal. They’ve invested and loaned huge sums into the country – the swish modern railway is a great example – on terms that the Indonesians simply can’t afford. There will be new terms, and I think I know who they will favour.

The Anglo Mexican invasion was brief. Mrs P and I were just passing through. Jakarta was an easy and less expensive means of entering and exiting the country, with just one night in the city at either end of the trip.