01.-04.06.2019 # Java / Yogyakarta and to Bali

The train journey to Yogyakarta, the cultural center of Java, takes about 7 hours. Due to an error in the booking system, we are all seated in different rows in the carriage. Fortunately, the Indonesians are quite relaxed about this and the two people who claim the seat during the journey easily swap their seats with Maike and me so that at least we can sit together. The windows offer a better view this time than on our first journey, so we can take some snapshots of the passing landscape. Some places we pass by resemble small villages from a distance. Only the large rice fields or artistically designed rice terraces provide a great contrast.

In Joggja, as Yogyakarta is also called, we are already expected by Agus. Deni had offered us to hire his friend for a day tour if we pay a third of the agreed price as a down payment. He has always seemed trustworthy to us so far, so after a short consideration, we agree. Not least because he insists that I take a photo of his ID card as a kind of insurance. :-)

Our hotel 'Aveta' is located near the train station in Malioboro, which is something like the entertainment district of Joggja. Nevertheless, it takes us more than twenty minutes to get there. The direct access is blocked, so we have to take a detour. In addition, the streets and sidewalks are hopelessly crowded. It's the weekend and many people from outside come to Joggja to have a good time. Maike and I have been here for a brief visit with our Indonesian friends four years ago and even then we were captivated by the typical flair of Malioboro with its numerous shops, restaurants, bars, and street food stalls.

Despite Google Maps, Agus has some trouble finding the hotel. The entrance is in a small alley off the main street, but there is no indication of it. Finally, a friendly local shows us the way after our driver is strongly reminded by a police officer that he cannot park here for long. The 'Aveta' is currently undergoing a general overhaul and therefore looks partly like a construction site. Fairly, the management had informed us some time ago that the pool and the rooftop bar are not usable. No reason for us to change our booking. Our rooms on the fifth floor seem to have already undergone a rejuvenation treatment and look correspondingly new.

In the evening, we dive into the hustle and bustle on Malioboro Street. Incredible, this stream of people and vehicles that seems to have no end. At every corner, horse-drawn carriages and scooter or bicycle rickshaws are waiting for customers. Surprisingly, there are hardly any Western foreigners here, although Joggja is one of the most famous destinations for backpackers in Java. After trying in vain for a while to find a restaurant where we were four years ago, we finally end up at 'Legian'. There you can eat excellently and enjoy your beer in peace despite Ramadan. In addition, from the terrace on the first floor, you can comfortably watch the hustle and bustle on the busy main street. The party is still going on until the early hours of the morning, as I painfully experience when I am woken up shortly after 3 am by loud drums being played by someone marching along the street.

For the next morning, we have arranged to meet Agus at 9:00 am. Originally, he wanted to be there at 4 am to show us the sunrise over old stones. The protest is brief and fierce. It's enough for us to visit the two most important temple sites, Borobudur and Prambanan, without sacrificing our precious sleep. The journey to Borobudur, the largest Buddhist structure in the world, takes just over an hour. Once there, we buy a combination ticket for both temples for 630,000 IDR (~€39) and save a few rupiahs. Locals have a separate entrance and therefore pay significantly less.

At the temple itself, it is already quite crowded, so we sometimes have to wait to move a bit further towards the last level on the steep steps. It's also sweat-inducing, as the sun is already burning fiercely around noon. So we only take extensive photos and stroll around the extensive complex. Shortly before the exit, you are automatically guided through a small town of souvenir shops, where the same things are sold in every stall. We are always amazed at how this can be profitable for anyone given the number of shops.

Agus is relatively surprised when we arrive at the meeting point long before the expected time. He is probably used to something else. On the way to the Prambanan Temple, we stop at a restaurant that looks like a tourist trap at first glance. However, the initial skepticism disappears after the excellent lunch at a normal price. With renewed strength, we now focus on Prambanan, the largest Hindu temple in Indonesia. Unlike Borobudur, it consists of several individual stone structures and I like it better in terms of the layout. Unfortunately, a large part of it was destroyed in an earthquake in May 2006, so that you can only imagine the original size and beauty. It is still impressive. We take plenty of time for the visit. Meanwhile, the sky has clouded over, so we no longer have to constantly search for a shady spot. Agus is already waiting for us at the exit. As he tentatively suggests a few other destinations, we politely decline. The half-day of walking around has made us a bit tired. At the hotel, we pay the remaining amount agreed with Deni and say goodbye to Agus. It's great that everything went so smoothly. Deni had called several times in the meantime and was probably just as relieved that everything went well. After all, his reputation was at stake.

In the evening, the girls want to eat pizza, so we go to Pizza Hut in the nearby mall. Afterwards, Anne wants to rest a bit, so Maike and I venture out alone for a while. Eventually, we find the 'Lucifer' bar where we went last time and where our friend Wolfgang had to cover his ears the whole time due to the loud music. This time, we are almost the only guests and the volume is bearable. We indulge in memories while enjoying a Bintang beer before heading back. Just before reaching Aveta, we listen to a local band playing on the sidewalk. The lead dancer, a princess in her own right, does her best to animate the surrounding audience. However, we are the only ones applauding. Apparently, it's not common here.

The next morning, after breakfast, we go in search of a good coffee and find one next door at J.Coffee in the mall. We have no further plans for the day. Our train departs at shortly after 6 pm, so we use the remaining time to do some shopping within walking distance. I get myself new sneakers and sunglasses. The old ones have suffered quite a bit, even the temples are starting to crumble. But it has also traveled quite a bit, the good piece. In the afternoon, I write the last blog post before hunger drives me out of the room. In the small alley below our balcony, there are delicious noodles from the Warung, spicy of course.

During check-out, a little surprise awaits us. We had booked the rooms until the next day because it was not yet clear when and how we would travel to Bali. After consulting with Booking.com, the hotel waives the price for half a day. Nice move. In addition, we each receive a packed lunch for the breakfast that we now miss. That doesn't happen everywhere. Due to the proximity to the train station, we decide not to take a taxi and walk through the crowd to the station.

Our train to Banyuwangi, in the far east of Java, arrives a few minutes late. Of all the trains we have used in Java, it is probably the oldest model, judging by the worn-out, wobbly seats and the squat toilet. Well, at least the air conditioning works. In fact, the carriage is so cold that we are relieved when blankets are distributed. Anne has already dressed like she is going on a polar expedition and has put on everything long she has.

Because the train is not fully booked, we can spread out a bit and each of us occasionally has a whole row of seats available. This makes the almost 13-hour overnight journey quite bearable and allows us to sleep for a while. The train is scheduled to stop for ten minutes in Madiun. Maike and I take the opportunity to smoke a cigarette. Coincidentally, the train stops in such a way that our door is at the same level as a smoking area on the platform. As soon as we get off, a uniformed person approaches us. Have we done something wrong? Oh no. He shakes our hands with a big smile and asks about our origin and destination before calling over a subordinate and having him take commemorative photos. He repeatedly emphasizes how glad he is to see us. No idea who he mistook us for.

In Surabaya, roughly halfway through the journey, is the last major scheduled stop. I want to take the opportunity to get myself a cold drink. The water they have on the train is the opposite of cold. As I purposefully leave the platform towards a supermarket, I am asked for my ticket. Damn, it's in my backpack, of course. I could go out now, but it's not necessarily easy to get back in. Grudgingly, I decide against it.

We reach our destination, Banyuwangi, on time, just after 7:00 am. Still a little sleepy from the brief sleep, we stumble out of the train station, where we are immediately accosted by dokar drivers (bicycle rickshaws) who want to take us the few hundred meters to the ferry terminal. Sure, we could walk, but given the price of just over one euro, we treat ourselves to the fun and choose the lazy option. At the terminal, we are guided directly to the ticket counter. The one-way trip to Gilimanuk in Bali costs only 6500 IDR, not even 50 cents. 20 minutes later, we are already on the ferry. It's great that the connection works without major waiting times. I call my Balinese brother Herman, with whom we have had a close connection for six years now. He will pick us up from the ferry.

The crossing takes about an hour, which becomes two due to the time difference. By now, it is past 10:45 am when we pass through the metal detector surrounded by heavily armed soldiers. While the Indonesians in front of us are meticulously checked and even photographed, we are allowed to pass undisturbed. Herman is already waiting for us, and we greet each other warmly, as always. He will pick us up from the ferry and take us to Man's Cottage and Spa, which he runs with his wife Miya. We are now here for the sixth time and are practically part of the family. Accordingly, the reception is warm. Our cottage is lovingly decorated again, and everyone who knows us comes to welcome us. It feels like coming home somehow. We are looking forward to two wonderful weeks. Tomorrow, our friends Kati, Ida, and Uwe will join us, who have been traveling in the south of Bali for a few days already. And on Friday, Chit, Sandy, and Kwar Kwar from Myanmar, my brother Rico, our friends Peter and Jana, Jana's brother Renè, and Sascha, a diving buddy of Peter's, will join us. Until then, we will enjoy the tranquility, as we are almost alone in the resort.