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The train had taken some time to clear Jakarta's city limits trundling past buildings of gradually declining integrity until all that was left were the blue tarp roofs and crate book walls of shanty towns. Then came the paddy fields mile upon endless mile of them dotted with bamboo shelters for the back broken workers to take respite from the midday sun. Lunch was served on the train as we began to climb into the hills of Java's central spine, the views an alternating patchwork of small villages, paddy fields terraced on hill sides and dense jungle.
We pulled into Tugu train station in Yogya and set off on foot for the travellers enclave of Sosrowijayan Street, bustling with becak, mopeds, food cats and andong. We treated ourselves to a 'superior' room in a Losmen complete with TV, fan, fridge and a proper toilet rather than the 'mandi' squat affairs. Breakfast and use of the pool was included in the price, not bad for a tenner a night!
Yogya is known as the Javanese centre for arts. It wasn't long before we were being led down an alleyway and shown some Batik art. Apparently we were lucky we arrived the day we did as it was this particular exhibitions last day. (It would transpire that every day is its 'last day') Nevertheless we were given a demonstration and ended up walking out the place a couple of thousand Rupiahs lighter, proceeds to the Sumatran earthquake appeal so we were told.
The next day we took a walk down the hectic Malioboro Street awash with a million mopeds and made our way to the Sultans Palace. However, after a bit of a chat with a young local about European football, he told us that the Palace wouldn't open until later that afternoon, but funnily enough he did know where a good Batik exhibition was. We ambled off in the general direction the young lad had pointed and soon fell in stop with another local, worked in the hospital, has three kids, been to Singapore two years ago, knew where a good Batik exhibition was, so we trooped after him. Released of another few thousand Rupiah and not really knowing where we were we strolled the streets of Yogya enjoying being lost and soaking up the sights and sounds of this bustling city.
We eventually found our way home and took respite from the heat, lounging around the pool until dinner time. We went in search of some traditional fare and soon found what we were looking for; a table and bench on the roadside and two young lads with a homemade BBQ and a cart full of satay. We ordered up two plates full (and a mug of Javanese coffee from the stall next door) and tucked in. Wow, chicken satay cooked over coconut shell charcoal with the best peanut sauce ever, add a little sambal sauce, brilliant! We paid the young lads 19,000 Rupiah, its 18,000 to the pound, they seemed very happy with the 1000 tip!
We'd booked ourselves on a tour to Borobudur and Prambanan temples and were expecting the usual beaten up minibus and ten other tourists. What we got was a brand new blinged up SUV and our own personal guide / driver for the day. First up was Borobudur and still bleary shadow of the smoking Gunung Merap Volcano brooding in the grey twilight of pre-dawn.
We arrived just as it appended and decided a guide would be a good idea for the largest monument in the Southern hemisphere. Borobudur is a massive Buddhist Stupa surrounded on three sides by volcanoes. The stupa was built on Hindu foundations, later completed by Buddhists and is a representation of the path from the earthly world to Nirvana. We bgan our journey to enlightenment in the realms with our guide explaining the meaning of the intricately carved stone over the first three tiers of the temple. We next climbed into the sphere of formlessness which lead us to the stairway to heaven. We climbed the stairway into Nirvana and were surrounded by 72 giant stone bells, each housing Buddha. The stupa was crowned with an enormous empty bell representing Nirvana itself. Our guide left us to the peace and tranquillity of the breathless monument with stunning dawn views over the jungle to the volcanoes beyond. Buddhism definitely has drama.
Back in the van we stopped at a couple of smaller Budhist temples en route to Prambanen, The Hindu faiths response to Borobudur which was sadly damaged by a recent earthquake, but it was still clear to see what it had been like in its full splendour. The three huge rocket shaped temples in the complex are dedicated to the three main Gods of the Hindu faith; Shiva, Brahma and Vishnu. We were guided round the complex free of charge by two local students studying for their tourism degree. Reflecting over rambutan fruit in the park we both agreed the Buddhist temple far outshone the Hindu's. Our driver took us back via picturesque scenery, pausing in small villages to watch the locals at work in the rice fields, with the men driving oxon and the women harvesting the chillies and rice.
Back in Yogya for a refreshing swim and more satay from the local lads on the street before collapsing in bed ready for another early start.
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