Tuesday 20 January 2015

Yogy, Yogy, Yogy!

Thursday morning consisted of a nice lie in, after which we awoke to stunning hot and sunny weather - yahay again!! Then it was off to the train station in Central Java. 

With West Java behind us, there was an immediate difference as the dirt track roads became solid, well tarred ones, complete with road markings and signals - not that that makes much difference over here, because Indonesians drive very similarly to the Indians in India; as in they drive anywhere on the road where there's just enough room for their vehicle to overtake another; even if there is oncoming traffic! The only thing missing is the Indian sacred cow roaming between the cars!

Our train journey was to last three hours and we were travelling 'business' as opposed to 'executive'! (We had come down in the world). Not only was the air conditioning not working properly, but there were no free pillows and no swivel chairs and as for the toilets, well let me put it this way, I was relieved I had shoes on!

After advising TC of the state of the train toilet, she decided to keep her legs crossed for the remainder of the journey and suggested we watch more episodes of 'The Killing' as a distraction. I was happy to oblige.

Lunch on the train consisted of the traditional Vegetable Nasi Goreng (fried rice with veg), so obviously it arrived with chicken ... and a fried egg ... Oh and two pieces of cucumber.

We got into Yogyakarta (pronounced Jogyakarta) or Jogjy for short, an hour earlier than expected and all lept of the train eager to stretch our legs and get going.

Jogjy is considered the 'Cultural heart and soul of Java' and is one of the most popular cities to visit on this island - it definitely had a much more touristy vibe to it - in fact we felt that finally we could all blend in with ease, as unlike in the other places we had visited, we didn't feel like the only tourists in town! However, as common as us Westerners may be inYogyakarta, it still didn't stop people asking to have their photograph taken with us.

We arrived at our hotel all hot and bothered (luckily it had only rained whilst we were on the train) and with the sun beating down on us we were keen to go for a much needed swim in the hotel pool! So I am sure you can imagine, that when we saw the sign: "Pool out of order, under maintenance" it was not greeted with cheers of joy by us four red faced and sweaty Brits and we all marched off to our respective rooms complaining under our breaths. All, that is, except for one of the Jos, who could be heard shouting out: "I am not happy with this!" 

And I was less than happy when I dropped my bag down in our room and something twanged in my wrist! I looked down to see a slight swelling building up as a mild pain filtered through. That was great, I now had a swollen wrist to match my two swollen ankles!  Meanwhile TC was more preoccupied with counting how many more mosquito bites she had received so far that day, (as some of you may remember from last year, this is generally a daily routine).

Dinner that night was at a 'hip' restaurant called Via Via, that not only served Indonesian food but some great Western delights as well - we were all pretty tired of eating rice, too much of which, we had all discovered, was not great for the digestive system. In fact we could quite easily hold a competition as to who could be bunged up the longest, but that probably isn't a good idea for me, as I can be quite competitive!

After a delicious Meze dinner we popped down to Via Via's shop where they sell an assortment of organic teas, coffees and sugar, some organic beauty products and all sorts of goods made from recycled materials. There was also an opportunity to sign up for various one or half day courses on offer.

Having decided that sand boarding wasn't really my thing, nor spending a whole day hiking up a mountainside followed by a bike ride across the city, the two Jos and I opted to spend our day off, in two days time, learning about Jamu (herbal medicine similar to Ayurvedic medicine in India) in the morning, then having a Javanese massage at a local school and finishing off with learning how to apply one of their face masks. (I know that's rather like a busman's (woman's) holiday for a beauty therapist like myself, but I was thinking I may pick up some pointers). Then in the afternoon, TC was going to join us on a silver jewellery making course.

That decided, we booked and paid for it all and headed off back to the hotel, skipping over the cockroaches in the street and off early to bed, as we had to be out at 5 am for a day of temple watching. 

The alarm went off at 4:30am and TC and I dragged ourselves out of bed, threw on our clothes and rushed out to meet the others at reception. Apparently TC had been bitten a few more times in the night, but she seems to have competition with the blonder Jo (both Jos are blonde). Which kind of suits me fine as it means the mosquitoes can fill their boots on the pair of them and ignore me!

As we were off early, the hotel was giving us 'breakfast to go'. This consisted of two pieces of starchy white bread, stuck together with something that was desperately trying to imitate a kind of chocolate spread. And that was it!? We were about to climb up the biggest Buddhust temple in the world on nothing more than a chocolate sandwich that even British Rail could have improved on!

Buddhism and Hinduism has been practised peacefully side by side since the 9th Century in Yogyakarta with Islam not being introduced until the 16th century. And the two main temples to see over here are: Borobuder - the largest Buddhist Stupa in the world and Prambanan - the largest Hindu Temple in South East Asia.

We arrived early at Borobudor before the hoards arrived and before it got too hot. We were all given a sarong to wear over our trousers and headed out with our guide.

It truly was a stunning site, built from approx two million stone blocks, each piece held together 'jigsaw style' so that no cement was used and forming a huge stupa on the top of a hill surrounded by smaller ones leading up to it. The idea being that the lowest levels represented the everyday world each one leading closer to the top - Nirvana.

Older than Ankor Wat (which I had visited two years ago), Borobudor was built to last; having survived not only Merapi's volcanic eruptions, but many earthquakes and terrorist bombings too. 


'The Pilgrims walk', as it is known, is approximately 5km and after reaching Nirvana, TC and I decided to head off to the museum, however, in typical style, we got lost in the myriad of market stalls that were now being set up along the path. The sun was already starting to beat down and so I decided to give the museum a miss and join the others already waiting under a large banyan tree, while TC grabbed our guide and hurried off to find the museum.

As we sat waiting, looking at the beautiful grounds, a group of young Indonesian girls nervously approached and asked if they could have their picture taken with us. We nodded and all squashed in together. I offered my lap to one of them and she giggled as she carefully sat down, shaking so much with excitement that she needed to hold on tight in order to steady herself!

With the photograph taken, they thanked us profusely and hurried away in a fit of laughter.

TC returned soon after and we piled back into the mini bus and asked to be dropped off outside the Kraton (Sultan's Palace) on route to the hotel.

The Kraton was built in 1755 in the heart of the city by Prince Manguku-Bumi and centuries later the reigning Sultan locked himself inside it and allowed the rebels to hold their meetings there during Indonesia's fight for independence against the Dutch.

It is in fact more like a walled city with its own markets, shops, schools and mosques and housing 25,000 people. 

There was not a lot to see here, as much of the main rooms of the palace itself, (where the current Sultan still resides), was in use for prayer - being a Friday afternoon and the start of the Muslim's sabbath. But a few rooms have been set up as a museum, were there are all sorts of artifacts and photographs on display - however none are labelled in English. And yet we managed to work out a fair bit, including the royal cheese grater, tea strainer and various tea sets and the fact that the Sultan enjoyed horse racing and was quite good looking in his younger days!

It was now boiling hot and we were all in need of sustenance and hydration, so off we went in search of a cafe for a drink and a little 'Scooby snack'. The heat was really bearing down on us, so it was relief that we found a tiny little coffee shop down one of the side streets.

Java is world famous for its coffee - it's most prominent one being Arabica and nowadays the other famous one is Luwak, otherwise known as Civet coffee.

Civet coffe is extremely expensive because of how it is processed - from the dung of the Civet cat and these poor little mammals are generally kept in cages and often force fed. So having turned up at this coffee house and finding the owner eagerly showing off his prized civet cat in a cage by the side of the shop, we were all appalled and unimpressed and settled for a Sprite, paid then scarpered.

Despite the searing heat, we went to take a look at The Water Castle (Tamari Sali). Built in 1757 by Sultan Hamengku the first as a water park with secret underground passages. It is now in ruins and what I assume was the water park is now dried out with ramshakled houses where the Sultans staff live. 

I was practically on my knees by this point from heat exhaustion and my swollen feet were killing me, but we agreed to quickly pop along to see the Underground Mosque that one of the Kraton's cleaners was keen to show us. TC and I trailed behind the others and by the time we reached the mosque, the last of the sugar from my Sprite had served its purpose and I was ready to pass out! TC looked pretty much the same! So we bid our farewells to the others and jumped onto a Betack (probably not spelt right, but it's basically a bicycle with a double seat at the front - or a backwards Tuk Tuk?!)

TC said she felt bad as the man that was giving us the ride back to our hotel was quite old and she was concerned it was too much for him. I told her that even though he looked to be in his seventies, his legs were that of a twenty year old and he's probably fitter than the two of us put together! That said, as he cycled us up hill I felt a bit bad too and gingerly tried to raise one of my butt cheeks in the hope that would help alleviate some of the weight?!

We arrived back at the hotel with just enough time to grab a Mediterranean lunch from the restaurant over the road (another Meze!) and re charging our batteries before meeting up with Sally and the others to head off to see The Prambanan Temple.

We were not disappointed, for Prambanan is an amazing Hindu temple. It did in fact look very much like Ankor Wat in Cambodia, also with both Shivaite and Buddhist elements.


Sadly Prambanan suffered quite extensively from the 2006 earthquake and even though the temple itself survived, hundreds of the stone blocks were damaged if not destroyed. And as with Borobudor, (built 50 years before Prambanan), the stunning holy place is very slowly being restored.

Everyone was shattered by the end of the day and we were all looking forward to getting back to the hotel for an early night and our day off from touring the following day.

TC and I decided to have a quick snack and ended up back at the Mediterranean restaurant over the road, in the hope they wouldn't recognise us from lunchtime. Then it was back to our room for one more episode of The Killing.

I was looking forward to a lie in the following morning before joining Jo and Jo for our lesson in Jamu making and a nice relaxing body massage and with that, I drifted off to sleep ....















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