There is a fine view from the villa, but a better prospect is obtained from Goenoeng Kasoer, some hundreds of feet higher, where a former Governor-General often took his ontbijtberg (or breakfast). It is now known as Breakfast Hill. A silver mine in the neighbourhood was worked for a time by the John Company.
The mountain garden of Tjibodas, mentioned in a previous article, is well worth a visit. A good walker, starting at six o'clock, can go there, breakfast and be back at the hotel by noon. But the excursion to be taken by everyone who stays at Sindanglaya for any length of time is to the falls at Tjibeureum, Kandang Badak and the crater of the Gedéh. Ladies may make the trip in sedan chairs; gentlemen on foot or on horseback. The falls of Tjibeureum consist of three cataracts, falling 400 feet down a perpendicular crag, and the winding road passes through some interesting jungle scenery.
From Tjibeureum, the path winds up a steep ascent, and through a narrow cleft in the rocks, a natural gateway to which the natives have attached some wonderful legends. Hot springs break through the mountain crust and run side by side with crystal-pure cold brooks, as is often the case on the mountains in Japan.
After a two and a half hours' climb from Tjibeureum, Kadang Badak (or Rhinoceros Kraal) is reached. It lies almost half way up the saddle which connects the Gedéh with the Pangerango, and although there are now no traces of pachyderms, it is stated that both this place and the Telega Warna were favourite haunts of the rhinoceros not so very many years ago. It is recommended that the climbers should spend the night in the hut here, and ascend the Pangerango (9,500 ft.) at 4 a.m. to see the sun rise. From the top the view is magnificent.
Along a steep and difficult mountain path, the crater of the Gedéh may be reached in an hour and a half, and the sight of the gigantic crater of this majestic volcano is said to be overwhelming and ample compensation for the toilsome ascent. It is about two miles distant from the Pangerango, and forms the still active part of the twin volcano. Between 1761 and 1832 no eruptions occurred, but seven took place in the twenty years following, the most terrible and severe being the eruption of 1840. There were again terrible eruptions in 1886 and 1899, when the volcano covered the hillsides with huge stones, one over 150 kilogrammes in weight landing three-quarters of a mile away.
There are several places in the Preanger Region where the visitor may elect to stay instead of Sindanglaya, such as Soekaboemi (2,100 ft.) which has the advantage of being on the railway, Bandoeng and Garoet. All have their own attractions for invalids, and the hotel accommodation is spoken of in terms of the highest praise by all who have been there.
When we drove away from Sindanglaya at seven o'clock on the following morning, the white crater wall of the Gedéh stood out like a huge lump of marble in the morning sun.
Our route lay through tea, coffee and cocoa plantations, and richly cultivated country to Tjiandjoer—a thriving little mountain town, with an air of prosperity and progress,—where we joined the train at 9.30 a.m. for Padalarang. Here, at 11.10 a.m., a change was made to the express from Batavia, and Maos was reached at 5.46 p.m. It had been our intention to stay overnight at Bandoeng, strongly recommended by Mr. Gantvoort, the courteous manager of the Hotel des Indes in Batavia, but we pressed on with the intention of devoting more time to the eastern end of the island. It was well we did so, for, shortly after leaving Padalarang, rain began to fall in torrents, and the afternoon and night were passed in a severe thunderstorm which was to cause us delay. Part of the line was washed away near Moentilan, and our train was over three hours late in reaching Djocjakarta on the following day.
At Maos, there is a commodious, well-built, comfortable passagrahan or government rest-house, where four of us ate our meal in solemn silence, until a query by ourselves when the coffee arrived broke the icy reserve of the quartette, and opened the way for an interesting conversation.
It is customary to make fun of English reserve, but our observation convinced us that the Dutch are no whit behind us in that respect where fellow-Dutch are concerned. On the other hand, nothing could have exceeded the kindness and courtesy with which we were treated from one end of Java to the other. Speaking no Dutch, we had looked forward to many tedious days, but our fears were needless, for, wherever we went, we met pleasant English-speaking Dutchmen, who proved the most entertaining of companions, and we take this opportunity of acknowledging the courteous assistance we received from time to time. On the score of not speaking Dutch or Malay, no English man or woman need be deterred from visiting Java. English is spoken at all the hotels, and though all the train conductors and stationmasters may not do so, there is sure to be an educated Dutchman or lady in the car to whom one may turn for help, which is always readily given.