April 4, 2024

I wake up at 9 am, which seems almost like a fatal mistake, given how I spent the last few days. Perhaps optimistically, I will be able to space rest breaks in the next few days, get longer nights of sleep, perhaps taking on less during the day. Although traveling involves a constant battle to maintain a semblance of structure with ever-changing parameters …

I may have a tiny kitchenette in this apartment, but have no food to prepare, given that I arrived yesterday quite late – nothing but a few bottles of water. So: I will have to skip preparing breakfast and see what I can conjure in the outside world.

I unlock the door to my tiny balcony, open the door, and am met with a wave of thick, syrupy hot and humid air – so much for it being the dry season with cooler temperatures! Immediately below me lies a landscaped garden with a set of imaginatively-shaped pools, smaller pools embracing a large, central pool, the individual pools lined with series of royal palms. A stunning statement of luxury – but are these pools available to residents of the tower I am staying in? It would seem so!

Beyond, a park environment featuring thick forest spread over numerous small islets, and further to the west, lines traced against the open water that seem to evoke aquaculture pens. Further out, two oblong islands with an utterly flat topography, almost entirely occupied by continuous building developments, presumably a mix of residential and commercial. What I find interesting about the environment around me is that while greater Jakarta comprises an immense sprawl, the waterfront area of the city seems to have been only recently developed. Why would that be? Has the land I am seeing before me been reclaimed?

I check the weather for Jakarta – thunder showers are scheduled for every day! For now, the sky is blue and clear of clouds …

On the ground, the Gold Coast complex is a stunning sight to behold, the slightly concave towers facing extensive terraced gardens and walkways, most of the space hollowed out along the waterfront of the PIK district dedicated to a succession of shallow swimming pools. As I have seen from my vantage point on one of the upper floors, you can see the entire garden and pool area in addition to the surrounding islands and waterfront.

Walkways on the concourse are lined with waist-high walls and planters housing the palm trees, artfully covered in mosaics of black and teal tiles. Rows of equidistant tiled planters holding palms course through the pools, underlining the elegance of the overall design. Wooden terraces alongside the shallow pools feature rows of sun chairs. On the ground, palms and stately trees line the periphery of the terraced pools, evoking a tropical paradise getaway. No – this IS a tropical paradise getaway, only in the middle of a huge city.

I am only here for a short stay, unfortunately, given that I have come to Indonesia on the default one month visa on arrival, but had I more time at my disposal, I would happily spend the days lounging around these pools, which seem to be almost entirely bereft of visitors, at least during the daytime.

And now off to find prepared food to ingest as well as raw ingredients to assemble in my small kitchen. It turns out that I don’t have to look too far, given the availability of the sprawling Fresh Market across the street. I navigate through the passages and parking area of my complex to the concourse of another gargantuan tower that seems to lie on the mouth of Jalan Pantai Indah Kapuk, the acronym of which lends the neighborhood its name. An attendant shouts at me to not walk along the on-ramp, a surprising experience, considering how chaotic this city can be when it comes to traffic.

Along the main road lies a cross-walk that is controlled by a traffic light, somewhat shocking in Jakarta and an indication of the level of development of this area. The flow of traffic is constant, and cars do actually slow down and stop when pedestrians cross, although a few cars rush through when no one is crossing the street. Instructively, pedestrians tend to look apprehensively at the cars as they hurriedly walk across the street, which says a lot about the confidence they have in local drivers.

The Fresh Market across the road is a market, Asian-style! Innumerable small shops selling dry goods and produce over a two-level concourse, the outlets closer to the entrance almost exclusively oriented to prepared food, mainly noodle and rice dishes, spanning the range of Indonesian and Chinese, featuring meat, seafood, and vegetarian. What is clear is that the range of food offered varies tremendously, and is dizzying to the point of making it difficult to select something specific, although given how crowded the seating areas around the food kiosks are, the availability of seating may be determinant. On the other hand, the amount of people eating at specific establishments will reflect the quality and affordability of the food offered.

There is little I won’t eat, but despite the consistent display of foods offered on placards at each stand – incredibly convenient for visitors – I am overwhelmed by the amount of choice. What is also apparent is that while much of what is offered tends to be on the fast side, it isn’t strictly street food, that is, dishes prepared seem to reflect some complexity that would be offered in formal restaurants, and yet the setting is clean and orderly, unlike the plethora of quite humble eateries that offer limited and relatively uninspiring selections in lesser urban areas in the country.

Perplexed and unsure, the Asian restaurant conundrum, I weave between the eateries, the tables packed with people, an attendant from some kiosk occasionally calling to me, but the entire affair proceeding in a relatively civilized manner. At the far end of a passage, I spot a pie shop, and inside the glass-encased establishment, see a set of pies that would have been very familiar in southern Africa! I must indulge! Although it seems somewhat silly to be eating such relatively bland food items in a region famed for its complex spicing.

A tiny coffee shop is visible toward the far end of the passage, encased in glass panes, with a narrow counter and two tiny tables, a bench with some potted plants outside, and a smart bar area on one side. The motive for my visit is the number of cute hipster coffee shops I found myself visiting a year and a half ago on my trip through Java, a neat trend that the youth of the country have embraced. The double espresso is rich, strong, and smooth, maintains its structure as I drink it, while the chocolate cake I order with the coffee is unwarranted, but despite being somewhat bland, the chocolate cream is quality. Sadly, the reality of drinking such good coffee in such an unlikely place reminds me of how underwhelming the coffee in Vancouver has become – unbeknownst to the locals.

I am genuinely surprised how few people smoke in this area. Perhaps it is because it tilts towards higher class Chinese, where working class Indonesians are more likely to smoke the canonical kretek cigarettes?

Back in the apartment, I lie in bed, feeling exhausted, not deeply exhausted, but with too little energy to want to get up, collect my things, and go on a long walk outside. The sky is now dark and slightly overcast, threatening to rain. The risk of rain here is that it may not just rain, but rain torrentially, as was my experience in the rainy season, and walking in the open is an open provocation. What to do! The sky progressively gets darker as I remain inert in bed, and when I finally muster enough energy to move, it is night time – not that it is that late, as it gets dark on the equator around 6 pm. Darn! Perhaps I need to make a point of getting up earlier!

Out the door finally, into the darkness, although the heat and humidity are still quite palpable. Walking south along Jalan PIK, I see that the glamour is by no means limited to the Gold Coast development where I am housed, but that the entire boulevard is lined with opulent retail establishments, cavernous, brightly-lit restaurants, luxurious hotels, expensive clothing stores, including an immense and elegant batik boutique, all quite impressive in the way that luxury malls can be. Oddly, on one side lies an enormous Buddhist temple with a multi-layered concave roof.

Given that this area – as is the case in much of the country – is far from pedestrian-friendly, I need to carefully watch my steps as I navigate amid the moving and parked vehicles along the busy roadside; crossing from one side to the other is definitely challenging, as there are no clear crossings – and the canal the road flanks doesn’t make matters easier, although visually enrichening, as it mirrors the myriad neon signs and upper floors of the brilliantly-lit towers.