Lighthouse Anyer be Banten Tourism Icons
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Harga murah reservasi hotel & Villa di Anyer, Carita, Ujung Kulon Banten, Indonesia
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The tropical heat may put off people going to this province, but if you are a history or architecture buff, it would mean missing out on getting a closer look at the region's rich array of historical architecture.
Just 100 kilometers away, or a two-hour drive, west of Jakarta via the toll road, the province is home to 87 archaeological sites, 44 historical buildings and 42 devotional visit sites.
So, Banten is definitely the place to go for those with a passion for Islamic ruins or for the beauty of colonial buildings.
Banten -- or Bantam according to ancient European texts -- was one of the most important shipping ports in the region between the 16th and 17th centuries, because of its hold on the pepper trade and as an international entrept and supply port along the main sea trade route.
According to experts, before falling to Muslim influence from an attack by Sunan Gunung Jati of the Demak kingdom at the end of 1526, Banten was under the control of the Hindu Sunda Kingdom. The king of Banten was then known as Prabu Pucuk Umun, with the capital at Banten Girang, approximately five kilometers south of modern-day Serang.
In the 1530s Gunung Jati's son, Maulana Hasanuddin, was ordered to move nearer to the port, on the mouth of the Banten River -- now known as Old Banten -- and established Keraton (palace) Surosowan as his capital. Hasanuddin became the new kingdom's sultan between 1552 and 1570.
His son and successor, Maulana Yusuf, expanded further the territory of the Banten sultanate, by incorporating the lands formerly owned by the Pajajaran kingdom -- whose capital, Pakuwan (now Bogor), he captured in 1579.
The first Dutch group to enter Banten was led by Cornelis de Houtman in 1596. Today's description of old Banten during this time was largely thanks to the literary work of some of de Houtman's passengers.
One of them, Willem Lodewijcks, described the busy port of Banten thus: ""East of the town (Karang Antu) are many foreign tradesmen, such as Portuguese, Arabs, Chinese, Turks, Kelings, Pegunese, Malays, Benggalis, Gujaratis and people from the Malabar and Abessina,"" according to Hasan Muarif Ambary in the No. 11, 1977, edition of Bulletin of the Research Center of Archaeology of Indonesia.
The Dutch capture of Jayakarta, which it renamed Batavia, in 1619, gradually shifted the majority of trade from Banten. Battles of supremacy with the growing power of the Dutch in Batavia weakened Banten further.
A rift in 1680 between Banten ruler Sultan Agung and his son, Prince Haji, precipitated the collapse of Bantenese hegemony in West Java and resulted in the establishment of full Dutch protection there in 1684.
When the Netherlands formerly took over the overseas possessions of the VOC, a good part of the sultanate of Banten was brought under direct control of Herman Willem Daendels, who, in 1807, was appointed governor general of the Netherlands East Indies in Batavia (nowadays Jakarta).
Daendels ruled with an iron hand, and one of his achievements was construction of a road spanning almost the entire length of Java, from Anyer on the western tip of Java to Panarukan, near its easternmost point.
Public works projects had a heavy toll on human lives. The Bantenese revolted under the burden.
""Daendel's messenger, Komandeur Philip Pieter du Puy, was killed in front of Surosowan Palace, giving Daendels the perfect excuse to obliterate the kingdom in 1808,"" head of the Banten Archaeological Office Endjat Djaenuderadjat said.
Keraton Surosowan was destroyed and its building material was used to build Daendel's new city in Serang -- modern-day Banten's provincial capital -- including that of the State Building.
""In 1814 he created a new capital in Serang, with a city plan resembling that of traditional Muslim cities in Java, but he put all the government offices into buildings surrounding the town square,"" Endjat said, explaining that a traditional Muslim city had a keraton to the south of the town square, and a mosque to the west.
Afterwards, Banten lost its competitive edge to Batavia. The old city center, once busy with the traffic of multinational traders, has now become quiet.
The hustle and bustle revived only briefly just before Ramadhan -- the Muslim fasting month -- when thousands of devotees come to visit the many devotional sites in the area, including that of Sunan Gunung Jati, one of the nine leaders responsible for the spread of Islam in Java.
During Chinese New Year, hundreds of Chinese -- both Chinese-Indonesians and those from other countries -- pay their respects to the Kwan Im goddess at the Kelenteng (Chinese temple) Avalokitesvara.
The Jakarta Post, Jakarta
Karang Bolong,Anyer - Every once in a while it is nice, if at all possible, to get away from the metropolis that is Jakarta, with all its traffic congestion and choking pollution, and head for the coast to get some sun, sand and reviving sea air.
Although Jakarta does have coastal areas at its northernmost edges, it is hard to feel that one is really ""away from it all"" at these narrow little beaches.
Instead, many will travel to the furthest western reaches of Java and to the coastal areas of Anyer and Carita. To get to this part of the island, it is possible to take the Jakarta-Merak toll road for most of the journey.
This road is principally intended to serve as a link to the port town of Merak and the ferries there that depart to Sumatra, but a turn heads to the western coast of Java. Thanks to the toll road, travelers can arrive at the western Java from Jakarta within two hours.
Traveling along the coastal road here, one is confronted by giant industrial complexes that do not suggest that scenic seashores lie ahead. The massive Krakatau steelworks bring heavy traffic to these parts, but perseverance and patience are rewarded.
Traveling beyond the heavy industrial development, one soon passes through the small town of Cilegon and on to the coastal road that hugs the seashore.
Soon, the lineal town of Anyer is reached but there is little here that really constitutes a town. Mostly all that is on offer are cottages and villas offering sandy accommodation.
Probably the most distinguished and literally outstanding aspect of Anyer is its slender and regal white lighthouse, which was erected after the 19th century volcanic explosion of Krakatau that devastated this coastal region.
Passing through Anyer the road continues to hug the shoreline, and gates along the way offer entry to public beaches that give glimpses of the blue sea and distant islands. The road continues to wind toward Carita, but just before it some 12 kilometers from Anyer, one reaches the destination of Karang Bolong.
Care is necessary when approaching this natural wonder, as the entrance gate is narrow and rather hidden on a bend in the road. It would indeed be a shame to miss this site, as it is simultaneously unusual and attractive.
A small fee is charged by the local people to enter this ""tourist location"" but this should not put anyone off.
Karang Bolong can be translated as a rock or cliff that is ""perforated"" or ""drilled through"", and this is an accurate description. But perhaps some reference to the stone archway here would be a more attractive name, as is this archway that is the site's most outstanding feature.
The archway is remarkably even and rounded on its underside, but above the cliff face it rises up as an angular and jagged edge. The cliff can be climbed via some steep and heavily moss-covered steps. But the climb is indeed challenging, as trees grow all over the cliff and seem to maraud over the walkway with their branches.
Similarly, the tree roots creep down the sheer rock faces of the cliff, seeking out sustenance. The trees seem precarious dwellers on this cliff, which itself seems to be precariously poised.
At its base, cavernous holes run right through it and the surf washes up against them, striking fears that the whole cliff could crumble and fall into the sea.
Rocky outcrops dot the area, and pagoda-like shelters have been built on some of them, providing shade and a fun place to take a break from the heat of the day. The tide washes in and out around these outcrops, so it is possible, sitting on a huge rock, to be ""stranded"" momentarily on a tiny island just meters off the shoreline.
Climbing to the top of the cliff allows for excellent views both inland and out to sea.
Looking inland, the small but attractive beach at Karang Bolong can be seen, as can the surrounding hills. Gazing seaward offers a panorama of deep blue waters, and distant cloud-topped islands can be discerned far off in these waters, shimmering in the hot sun.
It is suggested that the Krakatau eruption could have been responsible for carving out the rocks of Karang Bolong into their unusual shapes and sizes. But whatever formed this site, it is clear that the mighty powers of nature were at work.
Just across the coastal road from Karang Bolong, nature is for sale. Surrounding a circular parking lot is a small market where inexpensive seafood can be bought. Also for sale here are many different shells and corals, some of which have been shaped into desk-top ornaments or other decorative affairs.
These, however, give rise to concerns for the local ecosystems. That is, with so many shells and pieces of coral for sale, it may be surmised that much of nature is ruthlessly taken from the sea and exploited for the benefit of tourism.
If so, this would be a shame, for these parts surely need to be protected.
Karang Bolong is a scenic and highly unusual site, and it really ought to be enough to come and take in this sight and appreciate it. It is a popular site at weekends and on national holidays, so take heed that it may get quite crowded.
Even so, Karang Bolong is well worth a visit, as it does illustrate simultaneously the great power and remarkable beauty of nature.
The sea here is clean, clear and blue while the sea air is both fresh and invigorating, thus offering a natural getaway from the hustle, bustle and clutter of the big city.
Simon Marcus Gower, Contributor, Karang Bolong, Anyer W. Java
TheJakartaPost
A trip to Anyer from Jakarta is not for the fainthearted. To reach the beach you must first joust bumper to bumper with the articulated trucks plying the Tangerang-Merak toll road, still the only route for all Sumatra-bound freight from Jakarta.
And once you've exited the highway, this strip of West Java's coastline, weekend destination number one for thousands of jaded Jakartans, still lies beyond a vast industrial hinterland upon which Anyer's steelworks sprawl.
The sea, when it does finally come into view, momentarily compensates for the three-hour journey. But unless you're totally used to the Anyer experience and have developed a hard-shell to its near derelict state, the beach and its down-and-out resorts strike a near fatal blow to the heart of the first-time visitor.
As Anyer is a weekend getaway, come Monday it sags on its ungainly hinges in exhaustion: weather beaten, salt-shrivelled and reeling from the departed weekend hordes. With the tourists gone, Anyer looks scabrous and hang-dog.
Its piece de resistance, the huge, 580 room behemoth Marbella Anyer Hotel, resembles a great beached leviathan despite its best efforts to cast itself as a Spanish or exotically Moorish resort.
During weekends, when the party's on, the crowds must go a long way to convincing a visitor Anyer is the place to be, despite its blatant lack of charm. Go at any other time, when Sol Elite plays the role of the abandoned orphan, and the hotel's vast interior, hemmed in by low ceilings as if imitating an underground car park, looks not just unloved, but unlovable.
On the Monday my family visited, almost every visible employee was hooked up to a piece of industrial cleaning equipment as the hotel, after the adrenaline-high of the weekend, began its week-long process of sprucing up.
But the festering wound in Anyer's side is not the hotels but, lamentably, the beach itself: ironically the very thing for which the visitor comes. Neglected by every single resort along a strip of what could be beautiful coastline, the beach wears a coastline necklace of garish trash.
I spoke to the charming, English-speaking manager at the Hotel Jayakarta about the unkempt state of the beach and he told me that, although only two months into his job, he had worn himself out talking to local government officials about how to keep the beach clean.
I'm no hotelier, but if I were in the shoes of any hapless manager of a hotel along the coast, I'd make that beach my pride and joy. Every morning, before putting on my tie and sitting in an office and feeling managerial, I'd announce to myself that the beach is no one's responsibility but my own. I would defer to no committee. I would make no announcement about our stewardship of the natural environment. I would, rather, get a rake I'd buy it myself - and have my strip of beach pristine by 7 a.m.
The sense of neglect is worse down the Marbella Anyer end, where wind-stricken bamboo structures festooned with ugly blue tarpaulins stoop seaward in sorry disarray as if they are all that's left of a suddenly abandoned shanty.
It's this general derelict state that makes me wonder how we find it in us to despoil our very own backyard, even when the backyard is a kilometer-long stretch of beach fronting the Java Sea.
It's as if we have come to regard litter as a natural occurrence, like driftwood, that we do not need to pay any attention to.
We will however go back to Anyer, for two reasons. One is because when eating in the dingy, cavernously empty Valentine Del Mar restaurant, opposite the Marbella Anyer, we were served fried fish by a girl whose guileless smile revealed to me that Anyer's cause was not yet lost. If a waitress can find the resilience to be personable and good-natured whilst serving a hearty meal, even on a Monday, when every right-minded tourist should have been heading home, then there is still hope for Anyer.
Also, I must also go back because the hotel manager told me he was going to deal with the dirty beach. I want to see how it looks swept clean.
Adrian Thirkell

Beacon of Light: The Anyer lighthouse stands tall over the small park found at its base, which has a picnic area for visitors to relax in. (JP/Simon Marcus Gower)
Heading out to the west coast of Java from Jakarta is, for the most part, a relatively easy journey.
The toll road that buses and huge trucks take to the port of Merak runs most of the way but then a smaller road needs to be negotiated heading in the direction of Cilegon and the small coastal town of Anyer.
It is this road that proves more of a problem. The heavy industrial plants that initially line the coast here mean that there are many large container trucks to contend with. Recent rains and these heavy trucks have combined to do a lot of damage to the road. So much damage in fact that in parts the journey feels like an off-road adventure.
However, once the sign over the road welcoming travelers to the town of Anyer has been reached, the roadway improves and the industrial plants no longer dominate the surroundings.
The town center of Anyer is little more than a single street with shops, a market area and a mosque. There is not really much to be seen here; better instead to continue through to the coast.
Soon the surroundings become predominantly resorts and hotels along with seafood restaurants that all cater to visitors. Public beaches can be accessed through bamboo gates for a small fee, payments being made to sleepy attendants.
The beaches and the coastline are definite attractions but further ahead is an outstanding and elegant lighthouse some 120 years old.
The road winds and bends, running perhaps 100 to 200 meters from the coast. Coming around one of the bends, the lighthouse at Anyer is almost suddenly revealed. Standing tall and slender, its white color makes it shimmer and shine in the sun. It seems to be a sentinel both for this coastal region and some of the history here.
The lighthouse was erected a relatively short while after the massive explosion of Krakatua in 1883. When Krakatua exploded with such incredible power, it unleashed a huge tsunami which wreaked havoc on Java's west coast. At the time of the explosion there was already a lighthouse in this area, which was then known as Fourth Point.
It seems that that original lighthouse was one of a series of lighthouses that ran along the coast here to ward ships off as they passed through the Sunda Strait. That lighthouse, like so much else in the area, was wiped out by the force of the tsunami that struck following Krakatau's explosion.
Three years later in 1885, a new lighthouse -- the stylish one we still see today -- was completed and opened. It was erected by the Dutch, seemingly at the behest of Dutch Queen Wilhelmina; a plaque above the ground floor entrance doorway notes this.
What we see today is, however, somewhat showing its age. After more than 120 years of standing guard on this coastline, it is perhaps no great surprise that the lighthouse is looking a bit worn and worse for wear. There are patches of rust visible on the exterior walls and within the lighthouse itself there is quite considerable rusting.
As the visitor makes the climb to the top of the lighthouse, there are whole floors that look to be severely rusted. Indeed, one floor has rusted through to its edges, which has left it looking particularly dangerous. However, if one is willing to brave these rusty dangers and has a head for heights, the climb is well worth it.
There are 17 flights of stairs to be climbed each with about 15 steps. Each floor has a window in it that allows for views out as the climb proceeds, but it is the view from the top that is most important.
At the top there is a narrow doorway that leads out to an external gallery. It is here that stunning views can be had.
On the external gallery there is more evidence of rusting; a hole in the floor that allows for a view straight down certainly gets the pulse racing.
Walking around this external gallery it is possible to gain a 360-degree view of the green fields inland, the ins and outs of the coastline, the bending coastal road, the vastness of the sea and distant islands.
The gallery sits just below the lighthouse's large rotating lamp, so visitors are not quite at the pinnacle of the lighthouse. But the view is spectacle and, combined with the climb, amounts to a definite statement that this lighthouse is an important and pleasing part of the Anyer coastline.
The rusting that is evident throughout the lighthouse hopefully will not be left to become so severe that it undermines its very existence or prevents visitors from climbing to its top.
One of the attendants at the foot of the lighthouse suggested that some of the rusting was caused by gunfire. He claimed that during the Japanese occupation in World War II, the Japanese army would take prisoners into the lighthouse to be shot. It is hard to tell whether this is what actually happened, but the rust damage is there for all to see.
The same attendant said that repairs were difficult because of problems "matching the metals" with those that are locally available.
It is clear that the many numbered plates that are joined together throughout to form the lighthouse are massive and quite solid, but floors are under rust attack and patches on the walls show the spread of rust.
For now, though, the lighthouse does continue to stand tall. The massive metal plates that are bolted together to form it make a large cylindrical echo chamber. The foot falls and voices of visitors echo through it and the echoes of time and history also reside here.
Cars entering the small park adjacent to the lighthouse need to pay an entrance fee of Rp 20,000. A small gratuity may also be paid to the attendant that unlocks the lighthouse for visitors.