Routes to Tosari.
IF a man who had visited Tosari in the dawn of civilization, say for instance 1890, came back there now after a long absence, he would stand perplexed. Perhaps the word is not strong enough to characterize the difference. Nowadays one travels quickly, comfortably, without undue excitement; formerly travelling was . . . . , well, one did travel indeed.
This refers to the route via Pasuruan and Puspa only; the other accesses to the Tenggermountains are in the same state mostly as thirty years ago, and when you love the medieval, you may try them as a quite undangerous safety-valve for your adventurous yearnings, even without being harassed by envy of modern improvements, as there is nothing modern about them.
Those dear old days of the two-wheeled waggonette, the kretek as they call it in Pasuruan; of the tandoo and the horse! Being deposited at the Pasuruan railway-station by a train of a restive nature and an asthmatic disposition, your eager eyes beheld about a dozen of those unattractive vehicles; the shabby horses asleep as if never to wake up again; the drivers in a noisy fuss about the distribution of luggage and passengers, to which a term could be set only by your own vehement remonstrances. Then the endless and dusty country-road to Pasrepan, where the traveller was reduced to a state of confused inhumanity, with barely enough forces left to count the milestones, and to get out of this glorious means of transport and climb a similar euphemism. When seven more miles of a rough and winding drive with numerous jerky halts, because of the steepness, had nearly finished you, you were compelled finally to mount an animated hobby and be dragged to Tosari in a trance. Still the violent disputes with drivers and coolies have not been mentioned, nor the eternal fear concerning the state and the whereabouts of your luggage. Such was travelling, formerly. a
Nowadays the morning-express takes you from Surabaya down to Pasuruan in one hour and a half; on leaving the station you
find a big motor-car awaiting you in front of it. It offers ample room for eight passengers with their luggage; other smaller motor-cars are available when more people have to be carried up-hill. Before noon they reach Tosari.
And the magnificence of this road!
First the broad, old tamarind-avenues of Pasuruan, where old, big houses tell of glories long past,, and new, brightly coloured buildings seem to predict a
prosperous future. Photo8raPh b.a c. p. Lewi,.
After that We reach Tenggerese cottage on the main road.
the highroad, bordered by unterminable series of villages broken only by extensive views across sawahs and sugarfields. The transparent blue vapours of early dawn have disappeared; the heated air trembles above the blinding reflection of the inundated riceland. But for him who knows the mountains this heat is only a whetting of coming pleasures; those who are still in the dark about the things in store will only feel a keener joy at escaping from this hot-house temperature.
The tram-rails stretch along the road; when we meet the coughing, dingy little trains, the contrast with our vehicle makes us feel quite contented. On the right-hand side we pass theThe tram-rails stretch along the road; when we meet the coughing, dingy little trains, the contrast with our vehicle makes us feel quite contented. On the right-hand side we pass the