Banana Pancakes

I think the song, “Banana Pancakes” by the one and only Jack Johnson, holds new meaning for me after the past week.

Ross and I have laid our heads nightly in the small, coastal town of Pangandaran. ‘Pangandar-what?’, you may be asking yourselves…It’s easier to break up the syllables. Pan-gan-dar-an (pronouncing the A’s the way a Spaniard may--long). I’ll refer to it as “P” from here on out.

Anyway, after spending a considerable amount of time in Bogor, the City of Rain, they call it (and for good reason), we decided to pack our bags and head East to the land of sun and fun. 

P is supposedly the premier beach resort of Java. Where Bali has many a beach to develop a tan, sip ice cold Bintangs on the sand, and frollick in the late summer heat, Java is much more of a country country. Lots of countryside, lots of villages, and a few big cities. So where was the beach? It’s Indonesia, right?

Pangandaran Beach and National Park

After one 3-hour busride, one 45-minute busride, and one grueling 9-hour busride, we had finally arrived in P. It was in the middle of a torrential downpour. As we hopped off the bus, donning ponchos that covered our bodies completely, we stepped into 6 inch thick stream of water flowing steadily down the road. With no cabs in sight, we got smart and headed to the nearest overhang.

A group of older, local men asked if we needed a ride. We said that would be great, so they pointed us in the direction of a few bicycles. Complete with baskets for sitting. Perfect, we thought. At this point, we just needed to get somewhere dry. It was also thundering/lightening so badly I wouldn’t have been surprised to have been struck right there in my bike taxi. The men were saints, and surprisingly decent athletes. They trudged through water so thick I thought for sure we were tipping over at least six times. But, alas, we made it safe, sound, and dripping wet to our guesthouse.

That first night proved to be quite the foreshadowing of our upcoming days in P. Most mornings, we wake up to some thunder and rain, hoping for the promise of a few hours of sunshine to walk around in, and every night I lie in bed awake and sweating profusely, thinking this night for sure will be the one to go down in history as the night P got washed away in a devastating hurricane. So far, no hurricane (knock on wood). 

The best part about these misty mornings, however, is our delectable breakfast that is included in the price we pay per night here. The little woman who spends her mornings in the kitchen for all of us backpackers may as well open her own breakfast hut, cooking big round banana pancakes served with warm chocolate sauce and doling out fresh pineapple. Delicious.

Needless to say, the rain has put a bit of a damper on our vision of laying out beach-side but we don’t care…In a few days we will be on the beaches of Thailand, so keep your fingers crossed the rain won’t be following us there too!

 “Can’t you see that it’s just raining, ain’t no need to go outside… wakin' up too early, maybe we could seep, I’ll make you banana pancakes, pretend like it’s the weekend now… we can pretend it all the time…”