Everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road here |
My driver/boyfriend at the time, Dhevon, hails from a town near Jakarta, the messy capital of Indonesia. He lives in Labuan Bajo, which is where our trip originated. For some reason, it made sense to travel by motorbike the massive expanse of Indonesia - including nearly the entire length of Java, to get to his hometown in time for the festival of Idul Fitri - which is spelt differently depending on where you are - anyway, the festival at the end of Ramadhan, which is typically a big celebration with your friends and family, with lots to eat.
Just about space for 2 people... |
Hanging out in Ubud was such a contrast after the dust and grime/sand of Labuan Bajo and Gilli Air - there are at least 4 Polo shops that we saw in town! Along with plenty of awesome eateries. There is a fantastic 'Padang' restaurant located on the main hill through town. Padang food is some of the best I've eaten in Indonesia, and although it is the specialty of one area (No prizes for guessing it's name: Padang) it can be found throughout the country and even internationally.
Rolling rice fields of Bali |
Highlights of mine along the way: a totally wrecked, burnt out minibus, that had been mounted on a concrete plinth as a grim reminder to drivers to slow down before the sharp curve at the bottom of the steep mountainside road. Sorry, I wasn't quick enough with the camera to get a photo of that one!
Meeting plenty of new friends and learning enough bahasa to understand the following conversation that we had with nearly everyone:
Stranger: Where are you going?
Dhevon:Jakarta
S: Where did you travel from??
D: Labuan Bajo, Flores!
S: On a motorbike? Are you crazy?!
D: No.
Me: My butt thinks 'yes!'
My next favourite stop was in Jogjakarta, which is the arts and crafts capital of Indonesia. I was in paradise! After studying the batik process very briefly way back in school, I decided it was high time I invested in a kompor or 'machine for melting wax' (whatever that's called in English). Plus the wax. And some tjantings. Plus material. Oh and then dye, when we got back in Bali...somehow I've managed to choose the least transportable hobby possible to take with me on the rest of my travels.
Whilst doing my best to avoid getting back on the motorbike in Yogya, we did a couple of day trips - firstly to see the fantastic sunrise at Borobodur (a large Buddhist temple) which we arrived at in good time for the sunrise on top of the nearby hill. I've never seen such spectacular scenery - watching the first rays of light appear behind a smoking volcano and slowly lighting the valley before you, complete with tendrils of mist in the bottom of the valley with the highest parts of the temple poking out. It was inspirational.
Also to Prambanan (a Hindu temple), the Royal Imogiri Cemetery which was interesting despite being mostly shut for the duration of Ramadan and inside the old walled Kraton, the inner city of Yogyakarta with Palaces, reception halls and the water castle spread out within it's gates. As well as a market or two, a batik factory (to learn my new craft) and some dancing on the street!
Leaving Yogya/Jodja/Djoja we decided to take the scenic route through the mountains and were happily surprised when we stumbled across Saturday night in a fairly small town - Magetan. This was one of those times when travelling without a plan really worked out. We ate dinner in a restaurant packed with Muslim families who were waiting to hear the call from the muezzin before they could begin eating. Wandering out into the square outside after eating we saw loads of young people hanging out - eating snacks from the many vendors, playing fairground games or hiring neon-lit bikes/vehicles to do a turn around the park with their friends. It was a great and completely unexpected night (that might have been why it was so much fun). Being the only bule around meant I was treated to a lot of stares and requests for photographs. One such example was a group of young girls who spoke excellent English. They asked for a photo with me, which I happily agreed to, before they admitted they had no camera so I'd have to use my own!
The temples at Prambanan |
The family vehicle |
The day of Idul Fitri itself was very interesting to me, as was the village life in general. I'd done henna for Dhevon's sister, Maya, which meant that half of the girls in the village wanted some before I left.
I learnt about the lovely traditions the Indonesians have when greeting people - if the person is older than you, you kiss their hand after you shake it. If you are not that close to the person, it's acceptable to shake their hand, then touch your hand to your heart. Also when giving/accepting anything you should grip your right elbow with your left hand to show politeness.
We started with a visit to the graveyard to pay our respects to the dead members of the family (everyone else started with a visit to the mosque first thing in the morning) which is a slow process to get there and back, because you have to greet everyone you meet on the road with a handshake/kiss (and working out who should get what is no mean feat when you don't have an example to follow!). On the way back home, you call on close members of your family (basically in this village everyone is family...some first cousins were getting married shortly after our visit). The village I went to had a predetermined order of age in which you should visit; the eldest being the first you should go and see. I should just mention that at every stop you are basically force-fed cake/sweets and made to drink tea or water. After the last month of not being allowed to offer visitors refreshments if they came to your home, the Muslims were desperate to make up for it. In some cases, this was not enough; many family members wanted to feed me too. I think I ate around 5 meals (with second and third helpings being pushed onto my plate) which were incredibly difficult to refuse.
After stuffing ourselves silly for two days we eventually had to make our departure - there were some fifty plus driving hours between ourselves and Bali. On the way back we managed to discover an incredible 80m waterfall almost by accident: we didn't quite make it back to our favourite spot of Magetan from Yogyakarta and asked in our hotel if there were any tourist attractions nearby. We decided to go first thing in the morning, before the next long days ride. There were several things you could do there, including tubing down the river for a bit, or take a zip wire across. It's interesting how cheap these things are when you find an area where all the tourists are locals. It cost less than $2 to go across on the zipwire, despite the presence of 6+ staff kitting you out with the harness, a helmet and all the rest of the safety precautions etc. Doing an activity like that in an equivalent location at home would doubtless cost an exorbitant amount of money. As the only foreigner in the area, everyone watched me and clapped when I finished, although I'm still not quite sure why. Dhevon also overheard some local ladies admiring my outfit (jeans and a t-shirt) because it was respectful to the local culture. It's nice to know people appreciate it when you show you are aware of their customs.
It was a fantastic trip altogether. It was great to live with a family and get an insight into the Muslim way of life, which is something I really didn't understand too well before. Also it was nice to have the freedom of the bike (despite the sore butt) in that traffic times were majorly reduced, and it was possible to stop anywhere we wanted, unlike on a bus. Having said that, I was very glad to see the boat back in Labuan Bajo at the end of my trip!
I love your initiative. I will read emotioned all your post. I wish I were there. ENJOY!! I hope to see you not too late. Maria from Spain. MUCHOS BESOS
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