Jakarta and Yojakarta, Indonesia

Coffee-in-hand before stepping into the streets of Jakarta, we waited for the public bus amongst the locals, wrongfully boarded and exited a few buses, and finally embarked on the accurate bus.

Traffic in Jakarta is HORRENDOUS. It easily took us an hour to exit the airport, and way too many minutes passed before we got to the bus station where we would have to catch a taxi our hostel. Although a long ride, we met a tour guide who shared some travel tips (“What to do in Jakarta? Don’t stay here…”), helping ease the pain of our long ride.

Eventually, we arrived at the hostel we planned to stay at, which was fully booked, and wandered to another one. Finally in a cozy room, we ventured for lunch, only to find a torrential down pour. It was raining worse than the three tsnami’s we’ve experienced combined. We ate at a local, nearby chain and ran back to our room.

Soaked and in major need of planning the rest of our time in Indonesia, we opted to stay tucked in our cozy bed, planned the rest of our trip here, and ordered pizza in.

At first, it was hard not to be a little judgey seeing travelers eat anything but local food. All this yummy *insert special local food name here* and you’re choosing an international chain instead? And then I realized when I’m at home I don’t only eat American food (could you imagine?!). I’ve never eaten the same thing for 6 months straight- variety is the spice of life! So why would I start only consuming a redundant meal-plan now? I loved my pizza, devoured every last meaty slice (yes, meaty), and poured on extra sambal (Indonesia hot sauce). It was great.

The extent of our explorations in Jakarta was the walk to the train station, where we boarded an 8-hour train to Yogyakarta. Don’t worry, we didn’t miss anything great in Jakarta… I think the pizza box is the only photo we took.

We hopped off the train in Yogyakarta close to 1am. Met by the typical hollering taxi drivers, we exited the train station by foot to find a fair rate and negotiated with some stubborn drivers. Finally in the back of a taxi, we rode through winding streets to our guesthouse, which we had booked in advance since we were getting into town so late. I had made a note when we booked that we would be arriving late in the night, just so someone would be up to let us in. Often, guesthouses lock their doors and an employee (often a younger family member) sleeps in the lobby on a cot or the floor.

A few stops for directions later, the taxi pulled over and I hopped out of the backseat. The Dutch owner met me at the door, a kind young blonde that stood out like a sore thumb in Indonesia, and immediately started apologizing; in tandem with my online booking, a traveler-by-foot booked the same room. Their house was full. She told me to get back into the cab, then started speaking Indonesian to the driver, and hopped in the front. Between explaining to the driver what was going on and giving him directions, she shared she booked us in a nicer place her friends own, and we could have that room for the night. Her Indonesian boyfriend rode his motorbike there, and led us to the room he had already checked us into. He also apologized repeatedly, and we assured them everything was fine. We were so grateful they found us a new place. It was actually generous of them; imagine if the Holiday Inn double booked, or an airline double booked you. You’d get to the front desk or gate and they would stare at you like it wasn’t their fault. And, not only did they go out of their way, they put us up in a place nicer than theirs; we had the entire place to ourselves, filled with a beautiful bamboo bathroom and stone floor, fluffy white bedding, a full kitchen, plenty of ‘help yourself’ snacks that were paid for by the honor system, and a serene garden outfitted with a tinkling fountain to lure us to sleep. The couple stayed and chatted with us for a bit. We learned she moved to Indonesia a few years ago and her and her boyfriend opened their little guesthouse this past year. They were still working out the kinks, but they were making enough that the boyfriend was able to leave his job to run the house full time.

We left in the early morning to relocate to a place within our budget (the couple paid the difference for us!), and bid farewell to our cozy little bamboo room. We found a spot away from the main touristy trail, a nice side street that was still alive with charm without all the same-same vendors ands food stands. We fell in love with a little warung (restaurant) and wandered the streets, stopping for Will’s second haircut on the trip, our umpteenth massage, and to peruse the local shops filled with handmade crafts. The wifi was week in our place, so we’d visit an amazing guesthouse/shop/restaurant for the evenings, grab dinner and a treat from their bakery, and get some work done. The first night, we ran into the couple that helped get us re-situated in the nice room, and again thanked them for their kindness.

There are two main attractions to access from Yoga (I love the local’s shortened name for the city), which was the main reason we stopped here. One morning, we awoke early to enjoy a hot cup of chunky, free coffee before boarding the public bus to Prambanam, a Hindu temple complex. Starting with the smallest of the three temples on the grounds, we were 2 of 3 people walking through the rubble and remains. Workers surrounded us, trying to piece cracked bricks back together in the real-life restoration puzzle the temples had turned in to. Generouse and kind, numerous workers invited us right onto the scaffolding, where we’d scale the tops of the temples and politely decline their offers of fresh tea. One gentleman, maybe the site lead, shared some information in very broken English, showing the bricks that were new and others that were able to be resotred.

Walking towards the main temple, we saw the big buses open their doors, and floods of students and tourists filled the grounds. We made quick work of the largest temple, and made our way back home. The days were hot and humid, and we’d caught the tail end of the rainy season, so they afternoon sky filled with clouds, dripping rain on our heads daily around 3:00. We made it home to miss most of the rain, grab a coffee, and run to our little café for wifi and a delicious Indonesian meal.

The following day we visited the other site, Borobodur, a Buddhist temple complex also a city bus ride away. We made it with little issue, as everyone was happy to help, and meandered through the maze of shops. Locals and tourists have separate entrances to religious sites, likely because locals aren’t charged and shouldn’t have to wait through long lines to worship. Tourist pay a small fee for many of the temples and shrines we’ve seen, and in this case, received a nice cup of coffee and bottled water with admission.

We walked every level of the site, slowly taking every carved story in. Tourists started climbing the tiers, as well, and as usual, Will was a big hit.

On our way back through the kitschy marker, we found worlds cutest woman. Ever. She yelled an exuberant "HELLO!!!" from across the street, flashed a toothless grin from ear to ear, and made my day. She happily and quite sassily posed for this photo. Seriously, do they get cuter?

Before the rain came in, we visited the Sultan’s Palace, which was extremely disappointing and not interesting whatsoever. There was nothing to see or experience, just some overgrown courtyard and way too many hawkers. It was cheap, but I wouldn’t have appreciated it had it been free, either.

We wondered around the side streets in search of the Sultan’s pools, and in lieu of hiring a tourguide to help us work through the underground maze, we asked locals and used keen instinct (which came in the form of a large map we stumbled upon) to uncover the hidden pools. They were breathtaking and full of secrets and stories. The sultan would watch from his tower as numerous virgins bathed and sauntered in the pools. He’d pick his favorite, who would meet him in his private pool area for an afternoon of whatever the Sultan wished. It was quite the saucy story!

We barely returned to our safe and dry aboad before the afternoon rain poured down. Packed and ready to go, we feel asleep early, ready for our next stop on our Indonesian tour.

From Yogakarta, with Love,

Sara + Will