Over 17,000 islands. An estimated 8,844 are named. 922 are permanently inhabited. And a couple of travellers visited three of them. A lifetime of travel may not be enough to truly know this country. And even if three may be far less than one percent, a small ripple can have a dramatic effect.

It is a bit overwhelming trying to plan a trip to Indonesia. With so many islands and thousands of cities to choose from, how can you possibly decide where to go? We dumbed it down and read the map like a book: left to right. Start left, move right. On the tip of the left, Jakarta. We had a few destinations on our list, unsurprisingly namely places like Bali, and a couple of weeks to work with, so we were excited at the prospect of letting our plans shape themselves. It wasn’t until we booked flights that we began to notice a troubling trend. People kept saying Jakarta was pretty sketchy. Come on, we said, Obama grew up there, it can’t be all bad. No really, they said, be careful. Well we were committed now; let’s experience it for ourselves. Even entering with a skeptical eye the mistress of travel wouldn’t allow us to feel anything but the power of experience. Our bus ride from the airport had us connect with a lovely British couple that coincidentally were travelling to the very same hostel that we were. And upon arrival, we were staying in potentially one of the nicest hostels I have ever come across. When nights are spent drinking dollar beers on rooftops in lofty seating overlooking the shimmer of city lights, it’s hard to imagine a figurative dark side. Yet in daylight, although we were spared any real drama, the rumours were still confirmed true.

While walking through town towards a restaurant only ten minutes from our hostel, we suddenly noticed that the loud voice calling from the car window was trying to get our attention. After a mix of confusion and a primal fight or flight reaction, I finally made eye contact with a man pleading sincerely for our benefit. Upon deflating my chest, I finally grasped what he was saying. From the window of a cab, a complete stranger, with no intention in his heart other than nobility, was pleading to a pretty blond foreign girl to hold her purse close because locals were known to drive by on motorbikes in an attempt to snatch it. The dangers of travel are real. The target on a foreigner’s back is undeniable. But there are still rays of light to illuminate the darkness. One must believe there is at least one good person in this world for every bad one. One positive experience for every negative tale. To fear the world is to admit defeat. To be naïve is to be a victim. But it is not a weakness to accept help. A traveller does not rely on local advice, he grows from it. This man may have confirmed the dangers we were warned of, but he also solidified a humble traveller’s belief in the importance of seeing the world firsthand.

Part of our initial draw towards Jakarta was that we heard it wasn’t very touristy. However after experiencing why it wasn’t a big draw for travellers (see previous paragraph), we were drawn towards the idea of a place that was off the beaten path, but less…controversial. We had romantic images of traversing across the country in small journeys and making our way through the mountains, however due to time constraints and the unavoidable reality of the economy of Asian air travel, we chose to fly to our next destination: Yogyakarta.

To end up in this city was maybe one of the best decisions we made on our entire adventure. There were a few popular destinations around the area, which we would end up visiting, but in hindsight it is incredible how relatively uncommon this place is on most traveller’s Indonesian to do list. It ended up being a dream scenario only magnified by the fact that we were there in the off-season: an incredibly rich cultural experience, profound historical destinations and the reality of being, without a doubt, the obvious minority. Continuing the tradition of wonderful accommodation in Indonesia, we ended up in a stunning homestay. Luckily we were expectant of the one major issue that greeted us in the early hours of our first day due to our reading of the recent reviews. As we were located in a Muslim neighbourhood, the loud speaker of the local mosque just so happened to be directly above our room. And when I say directly I mean we can feel the vibrations of the gentleman’s voice through the pillow. But hey, at least we didn’t have to set an alarm. Always an upside.

Yogyakarta is considered a cultural capital of Indonesia, the soul of Java, and this is partially due to its status as a royal city that is still ruled as a monarchy. On our first day we were walking the city and planning to include the Kingdom along our route, which is a designated area within the city that has portions open to the public. Again, only days after our borderline “sketchy” experiences in Jakarta we were confronted with another test of our resolve. We were walking the main square of the Kingdom and casually taking in the pleasant surroundings when we caught the eye of a local man. A couple double takes confirmed his intent on interaction and a quick introduction led into the old “where are you from?” He was excited to meet Canadians and we warmed to each other immediately. After pleasantries were exchanged he quickly launched into a detailed explanation of the area and city and it became apparent that he was actually a resident of the Kingdom itself. He gave us some history on the palace and other important buildings and explained that certain areas were only open to the public at specific hours and that unfortunately we had arrived just after closing. Not to worry, he would take us on a tour himself!

Now this is where the traveller’s sixth sense started to tingle. My first impression was similar to what I experienced in Morocco, where a local is overtly motivated to usher tourists around the local neighbourhood in the hopes of swindling some payment in return for purposely making you feel lost. But without jumping to conclusions we enthusiastically followed our new friend around the grounds as he was genuinely sharing his love and knowledge that we were very much enjoying and appreciating. And then, as if he read me like book, he invited us to join him for a coffee. Now, again, many might have treated this as another “tingle”, as he was leading us through a complex series of alleyways to an undisclosed location with relatively broken English. However, some of you may be aware of a mysterious and curious beverage known famously as Kopi Luwak. I could go into a long explanation of why this is a thing, but probably best that you Google it. As a coffee professional this was very high on my list of experiences I was looking out for in South East Asia, so when our buddy dangled the carrot, needless to say I was motivated to follow.

I won’t lie, after what was probably only ten minutes, the amount of left and rights and the lack of communication with our leader created an increasing amount of doubt. But although it may seem overly innocent, I find it hard to imagine a scenario where young children are running out onto the street to say hello in an excited attempt to practice their English, or when there is a football rolling towards us with a chorus of young boys encouraging us to kick it back, that could truly be dangerous and a red flag to our safety. The final corner was turned and it was just so. Our friend introduced us to his relative that ran her own café exclusively serving Kopi Luwak. He thanked us for visiting, shook our hands wholeheartedly, and resumed his day that we had unintentionally but thankfully interrupted. Our new host was as lovely as the last. She warmly welcomed us in and treated us like her honoured guests. More pleasantries were exchanged in the broken communication that a traveller unapologetically romanticizes. The type where smiles replace adjectives. Hand gestures replace verbs. Eyes speak the truth. And the raw intention is discovered to be existence and interaction in a profound moment of experience. She appreciated our excitement and awareness of the coffee that was her livelihood, so her enthusiasm was palpable during service. The coffee and conversation were wonderful and the real kicker was she actually had the animal associated with this coffee in front of the café! Beside the cage was the coffee displayed at all stages of processing (except the…unique stage), which was genuinely very interesting to see first hand and a cool finish to our Kingdom experience.  

Much of our time here was exploring the cultural diversity of a town refreshingly not devoted entirely to tourist enterprise. In a search for lunch, we stumbled across what would become a staple in our Indonesian diet: chicken satay. For $2.10 Canadian, two of us were able to eat seasoned chicken skewered and grilled over open coals and served with a peanut sauce and side of rice. Indonesian street meat. Crazy how good for how cheap. In search for a more familiar representation of coffee, our homestay was a short walk from a young gentleman running his own western influenced shop. A cool space with great equipment serving up delicious brews. This town is so great.

And now for the reason that tourists end up here when they do actually make the trip. Yogyakarta is the largest town in proximity to Borobudur, the largest Buddhist temple in the entire world, and Prambanan, the largest Hindu temple in Indonesia. We were able to book a tour through our homestay and let’s be real, if you’re going to visit some crazy famous temples you have to do it right. “The sunrise tour will pick you up at 5:00am,” says the sleep-hating brochure. “It would be pretty cool though,” says your conscience, “just think of the photos.” *10 seconds later* “Yes hi, can we book two for the sunrise temple tour please?”

Remember when I mentioned the irritable speaker located above the bedroom? Well we could have used him on this particular morning. No surprise, 5:00am came real quick, but the adrenaline started pumping when we remembered why the alarm was buzzing. We were picked up and whisked away along with other droopy-eyed travellers. Some bumpy, windy roads took us out into the country and from this point on there were absolutely no ideas of napping. The tree line broke and staring down at us were volcanoes greeting the first rays of sunlight. We have been fortunate to live on the west coast of Canada where mountains are an unbelievable part of everyday life, but there is just something different when the peaks viewed from a car window threaten fire instead of snow. Entering Borobudur, we had free reign over this famous landmark before thousands of tourists converged upon it. A sense of serenity surrounded us as we stood amongst Buddhist sculptures with their eyes closed, a faint smile, the morning mist illuminated by the softness of a rising sun. Deep breathe in. Exhale. Calm. Present.

A walk of the massive grounds and a quick bite to eat and then we were on to Prambanan. Along the way we were again confronted with what can only be described as maybe the most bizarre common occurrence in South East Asia. There were elephants just casually walking down the street. Don’t think we will ever get used to that. Prambanan temple is a little more of what I would describe as the classic image of what many North Americans would ascribe to this part of the world. It was another enormous setting with stunning visuals. The only downside compared to our experience of a few hours ago was the fact that it was now midday. Which meant tourist time. The place was not only overrun by foreigners, but more so than Borobudur, these grounds included food vendors, a petting zoo and a market filled with souvenir stalls. The temples were quite spread out, so after being given a free tour by some young female students looking to practice their English and local history, we purposely walked in the opposite direction of the crowds and actually managed to find a portion of the property riddled with decrepit older temples. Some restoration work was clearly going on, but there wasn’t a local or a tourist in site. We were able to walk amongst the structures and capture some beautiful images. One of us may have even tried to climb an obviously homemade bamboo latter to get onto the second level of the temple and proceed to burst through multiple rungs and almost fall back down ten feet…it was me. I did that.

As we were heading back to the bus I caught the eye of an Indonesian fellow that was exploring the temples with his young family. He greeted me with a smile and was clearly looking to engage. He simply asked where we were from and how old we were. As if the joy he was experiencing with his family boiled over and he wanted to spread the positivity of this moment. To allow his young children the opportunity to interact with human beings from a world away. To be able to learn insights about other cultures to share with his kids as a bedtime story. To be able to tell his friends what happened to him that day. It is unbelievably inspiring and heart warming to experience the power of human connection and the importance of travel. We couldn’t be happier that we included this city in our trip and absolutely, gushingly, recommend it to anyone considering a trip to Indonesia. As if the land itself had felt the same energy we carried through our experience, our final farewell when lifting off the tarmac was the image from a plane window of a full moon reflecting off of a succession of rice patties. A lasting, peaceful feeling of a place that will forever be held dear.

No Regrets.

The Travelling Gentleman