Tumpak Sewu Waterfall | Malang

CONTINUED FROM HERE: Mount Bromo | Java Island

Backpacking Indonesia: Day 011 (24 -April-2025)

A window to the past

I left the hostel at 7AM. With the help of Google maps, I rode towards Tumpak Sewu waterfall. The cellphone holder attached to the scooters makes it easy to navigate. I took some shortcuts that avoided the busy highway. On the way, I tried to stop at a few places hoping to find some food. It is not very easy to find vegetarian food in Indonesia. Without much option, I had to rely on egg sometimes. The simplest breakfast I hoped for was bread-omelette. I stopped at a Warung (Road side stall) and used a translation app to request for the same. 

Warung is a road side stall that often prepares a lot of food and displays them against a glass window in the front. One can choose all that is needed from the display and add it on to the plate. She looked puzzled at my request.  She pointed at the array of food she had prepared early in the morning and said something. It was a funny moment. Here she was with several interesting dishes and I was requesting for bread. 

Without any luck, I stopped at an Alfamart in a small town and bought some packed kaya buns. The girl at the counter spoke good English and she was curious to know where I was from. 

After riding for about 1.5-2 hours, I reached the waterfall. I parked my scooter for a fee of 5K IDR, bought an entry ticket for 100K IDR and walked to the view point. Very close to the viewpoint, there are a few shacks selling food and other items. The rianbow formation at the waterfalls made the experince even more special. 

I spoke to a local tourist in hope of finding a route downhill. Due to some miscommunication, he misguided me to the other side of the waterfall. I had to walk a certain distance in the wrong direction and then return back to the shacks. The stairs to go down was on the left side of the viewpoint. I rented water shoes for 20K IDR. I had used them previously in Jordan and they are quite useful. Many locals offer to guide you to the base. But honestly, it is not neccesary. The trail is straight forward. 

I took the flight of stairs downhill. I met Stanely on my way. He was heading back. The walk down was challenging. We had ladders and chains to assist the descent. Even the stairs had turned into a waterfall.  At the base, I had to pay another 50K IDR to see the waterfall. 

I quickly changed my clothes and headed towards the waterfall. It was a mesmerising sight with several waterfalls falling from such great height with a deafening sound. The water hit the ground, splattering the droplets as far as it could. As most of the crowd was concentrated on the right bank of the river, I walked to the left bank which was empty and enjoyed a shower there. Fulfilled by a cleansing shower, I returned back. My cellphone battery was completely dead so, I could not capture a lot of pictures. 

There are some caves and more waterfalls in the region and one has to pay more entry tickets to visit them. Satisified with the experience, I chose to skip them and climbed up the flight of stairs. At one of the shops above, I ordered some fried rice and tender coconut water. I requested the shop owners to lend me a charger as my power bank was not working either. The lady running the place did not have the cable that fit my phone. A local guide who was sitting there offered me his cable. Since he had to go, he asked me to leave the cable at the shop when I would be done. 

The fried rice was tasty. The coconut water was filling. Around that same time, a group of college students came to eat there. They were looking at the videos they have captured below. One of them was very well shot. I requested the boy wathcing it to share it with me. Since he could not understand English, he requested a girl from their group to communicate with me. She, to my surprise, spoke fluent English, in an American accent. I told her that since I could not take any pictures at the base, it would be great if they could share some; including the video the boy had shot. They were happy to do so and she transfered some to my phone through airdrop. I thanked the girl and appreciated the boy for taking such a nice video. He was still embarrassed for not being able to communicate with me. The other boys made fun of him in local language. 

I thanked the shop owner and left. During my drive in the countryside, I got a glimpse of local life and local prices. Tender coconut was being sold for as low as 3K IDR (Rs15). I had paid 20K IDR in Bali, 10K IDR at the waterfall, both of which are tourist prices. Nasi Goreng (Veg fried rice) could cost you as low as 4K IDR (Rs20), depending on where you eat it. It is always interesting to notice these details as it gives you an insight into the standard of living in a place. 

It was also interesting to see a bunch of old women standing in the middle of a single lane highway asking passer-by for a donation. It was scary because the vehicles moving past them had to be extra cautious to slow down and manouver the vehicle so as to not hit them. At signals, it was common to see people dressed up as a character from mythology or comic book and request for a tip. A direct act of begging was a rare sight, instead, people relied on their talent. 

Back in Malang, I rode to a nice little Italian restaurant called Dolce Signora. I ordered some panini bread and coffee and sat there sketching on my travel journal. I had reached there just before it started raining heavily. The downpour outside, reminded me of hometown. 

Apart from me, there a young couple sat at the next table, oblivious to the surrounding. In sometime, a family of 3 enetered the reastaurant. The middle-aged mother and her teenage son began to enthusiastically go thorugh the menu. The father, disinterested in the whole affair, gave an indifferent look at them as the woman asked him for his opinion. The food arrived, the man enjoyed a few scoop of ice cream and refused to eat the other dishes they had ordered. The mother and the son enjoyed the food and took selfies as they ate. To me, the man seemed old-fashioned and burdened down with a self imposed responsibility of being loyal to one’s own culture and traditions. While on the other hand, the mother and the son, enjoyed the foreign cuisine with interest and curiosity. This incident opened a window to my own past. With a new perspective, I watched my childhood and began to see a possible explanation for my curiosity to explore new cuisines and cultures. 

I went back to the scooter rental shop and handed over the scooter. I collected the ID that I had left there and walked back to the hostel. At the hostel, I enquired at the reception and found out about an app called Traveloka. Through this app, one can easily book train tickets with a credit card. I booked my ticket to Yogyakarta. I sat in the common area and finished my travel journal before hitting the bed. 

To Be Continued...