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A cacophonous roar of clattering wheels and overlapping voices was how my parents described the chaos of traveling by train in Indonesia. That was the image of rail travel in my head: vendors selling food and rambunctious children screeching like an advertisement for birth control.
But when I stepped onto the Argo Bromo Anggrek at Gambir station, heading east to Surabaya, I was glad to see that their description was outdated. At least, that’s not the noise I heard while inside the luxurious Anggrek Suite Class Compartment, at the far left of the train.
I’ve had an affinity for train travel since I started riding Amtrak’s Northeast Regional every other weekend about 12 years ago. Since then, I’ve also pondered what life would be like aboard the Eurostar, Shinkansen and our own high-speed Whoosh train. On one occasion, I even encouraged my niece to get on the “choo-choo” train with me in Pondok Indah Mall for my own enjoyment.
But taking a local Kereta Api Indonesia (KAI) train to another province? The noisy image in my head held me back.
In honor of National Train Day on Sep. 28, though, I volunteered to go on an eight-hour train ride from Jakarta to Surabaya, a route I would usually cover by airplane. I’ve heard high praise about the Anggrek compartment from social media influencers on my feed, and I was determined to find out if it’s worth all the hype.
It just so happened that my trip took place just after several volcanoes erupted simultaneously, grounding air travel. It’s almost like the universe was telling me to discover my love of train transportation.
The advantages started before I even boarded: The Anggrek suite costs Rp 4,300,000 ($239.55) for a round-trip ticket, compared with Garuda Indonesia’s Rp 9,000,000 ($501.42) to Rp 11,750,000 ($654.63) business-class fares.
First impressions
Gambir station was very crowded and exactly like a place that would awaken my claustrophobia when I arrived for my 8:20 a.m. train ride. But the station’s facial-recognition system made a strong impression on me.
The act of showing my face to a camera, watching a small screen display my first name and being allowed in without having to scan my ticket transported me to an Indonesia I’d never seen before, with a system that seemed far more advanced than those at any other train station I’d been to, and I was beaming with pride.
That feeling of being pleasantly surprised continued when I finally got on the train. At first glance, I was a bit disappointed that the Anggrek was nothing like the other KAI train I often see on social media - the luxury sleeper train Nusantara Explorer, which seemed to be the Indonesian equivalent of the Orient Express without the murder. But the resentment was short-lived. After all, the Nusantara Explorer is too much for an eight-hour journey, and a murder would only result in a delayed ETA.
As the train steward led me to my suite after meeting me at the door, I noticed that the hallways were narrow, decorated with patterns beside the doors on each side. Soft lighting effortlessly added a calm vibe to the entire space.
She opened a door next to a plaque that said 2A. This would be my domain for the next eight hours, and I found that it was surprisingly spacious for one person. More importantly, for a ticket that costs way less than the average business class on a plane, the space is larger, cozier and much more private.
The room had a reclining chair flanked by two television screens, along with a tablet. To my right was a large window that almost covered one side of the room. The glass could be made opaque with the click of a button. The lighting was decent and could be dimmed with another click.
It was starting to feel less like a train and more like a private cabin. The tablet gave me access to the snack menu, let me connect my electronics and showed me where I was along the route. There was also a charging port, which I was glad to see was universal. Pleased with my setup, I looked around the room to make sure that both my bags had made it on the train with me.
(Courtesy of Sheena Suparman)
The service was similarly familiar. Before the train steward closed the door, she offered me the choice of a welcome drink and introduced herself as my go-to for everything. The script followed the same lines and questions as those of the flight attendant, starting with, “What would you like me to call you?” and continuing with the menu choices for lunch and, “If you’re asleep, would you like me to wake you for the meal?”
Instead of the regular champagne, though, the train opted for something healthier: a mix of spinach, celery, pineapple and orange from Rejuve. Similar to what happens on the plane, they gave me a hot towel before they closed the door to give me some privacy before we set off.
There was, however, one major difference: no safety demonstration. We didn’t have to do the charade of putting on a seatbelt and stowing our bags, electronics and tray tables. That bit always made me feel like a small child desperate for approval from a flight attendant.
Off we go
About 30 minutes after departure, near Bekasi, the first hitch of the ride happened. I found out that my seat refused to recline, which definitely hindered my plan to sleep for the first few hours. Luckily, two technicians were on board, and they only took 12 minutes to fix the chair to my liking.
Once I was settled in, there was little left to do but sleep. As soon as the steward was made aware of my plan, she offered me a blanket that was very reminiscent of the one I got on planes. Not too thick, not too long, it’s just right. The rocking of the train and clattering metal of the tracks faded into the background as Olivia Dean delivered me into my first peaceful slumber.
Or at least, that was the plan.
Before I was off to dreamland, the screen blared with a hazard sign and, for a second, I thought that we were going to crash into something. I think it just means the Wi-Fi has been cut out for a while, but I never really found out for sure.
Isn’t there a better way to relay that information more calmly? Did I go back to sleep after the hazard sign? Yes. But did that little bit of information give me nightmares about being in a train crash? Also yes.
Amenities
Fortunately, there were less alarming interruptions when lunch arrived. Right at 11 a.m., as we were reaching Cirebon, the steward knocked on my door to serve me my food. It started with two croissants with salted butter as an appetizer, served with some fruit and a brownie. As for the main course, I decided against the soup and went with something that wouldn’t spill: nasi kuning with tempeh, eggs and chicken.
It was decent, but I wasn’t able to finish it because the chicken was spicy. Which really isn’t their fault. It’s not like I made them aware that I was weak in that department. Of course, I did my best to look very guilty when the steward came back to take my tray away.
(Courtesy of Sheena Suparman)
By then, I had spent about five hours without leaving my little corner of the train. Naturally, I wanted to see what the rest of it looked like, starting with the bathroom.
As I made my way there, I have to admit that sitting in my recliner for hours had made me forget just how much the train was moving. On my own two feet, I was bashed from one wall to another as I tried to gain my balance and reach the bathroom located at the end of the train.
It was comforting to know that while I was being bashed from side to side, no one was there to see me because the doors to the other suites were closed. That’s another beauty of the Anggrek compartment, which gives you the feeling of comfortable privacy, even when you look like an idiot.
The bathroom was more than decent. Decorated with a marble counter for the sink and white marble walls, and equipped with a Japanese Washlet toilet, it was maybe better than the lavatories on airplanes. It was certainly bigger, too.
At that point, the Anggrek was beginning to feel less like an alternative to flying and more like a different version of it. In terms of amenities and service, it’s really not that different from a plane ride with a lot of turbulence.
Scenes from the window
But there was one thing the train could offer that no plane could: a view of Java unfolding outside the window.
When Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “It is not the destination, it’s the journey,” he probably wasn’t talking about the view from his cabin on a train. But it does match the situation.
Along the way, the brief stops between Jakarta and Surabaya gave me glimpses of places that seemed to capture the nostalgia of the past, as if they were straight from a postcard.
That has always been my favorite thing about train rides: the different places and small towns I get to see along the way. In the villages I encountered through the window, the country felt calmer and it seemed like everything and everyone moved slower. It’s almost soothing.
It got me thinking about my future retirement and imagining how I would feel if I were to switch places with someone born and raised in a village. Those thoughts never crossed my mind when I gazed at the clouds from the window of an airplane.
The scenery can be repetitive: rice paddies and young corn fields that seemed untouched. Most times, there were no humans in sight. But for a few seconds near Tegal, I saw two kids running through them with the biggest smiles on their faces.
Other times, the view was obstructed by a line of old buildings and run-down houses, or by schools and funeral plots. The one thing missing was active volcanoes because I did wish we could pass a few, given the recent activity.
But it’s not all good. The lands closer to the tracks seemed drier, like they were barren. I also got to see what seemed like an oil rig in Kenconorejo and several instances of trash being burned. All that didn’t outweigh the good scenery that I got to see from the different villages across Java.
The home stretch
It wouldn’t be a classic long train ride if it didn’t involve covering my body with some koyo patches, or adhesive pain-relief patches. This trip was no different, even with the comfort of my reclining seat.
The pain in my lower back started to make itself known around Semarang, about three hours from the final destination. Remembering that I had enjoyed five hours without it, I considered myself extremely lucky and attributed that to the amenities of the train.
I decided to stand up for a while to take photos before I had to leave the train and try to numb the pain by video-calling my grandmother and my aunt. I even made a point of clicking the call button to ask for a hot tea just to demonstrate the high-class service of the train.
(Courtesy of Sheena Suparman)
Before I knew it, a steward knocked on my door again to inform me that we’d almost reached the final destination, the station where I was supposed to get off. Again, she offered me a hot towel like we were on a plane. I was grateful that she did because I could’ve dozed off.
What was supposed to be a seven-hour-and-45-minute ride became a little over eight hours. Overall, I would say that I had a good experience and successfully convinced myself and my family that the train is definitely a viable transportation option for the future.
Of course, we have to acknowledge that this experience is written from the perspective of someone sitting in the compartment class of the train. But in all honesty, if I had the time, I would pick the train over the plane any day. Same treatment, same luxury, easier on the pocket, as long as you have a couple of koyo patches.
The verdict: it’s definitely worth the hype.
