To the Island of Java - Yogyakarta: Day 1

I believe our pick-up time for the airport this morning was 10 AM.  Our flight to Yogyakarta, the land of the arts and the most convenient base for day trips to Borobudur, was at 12:25 PM.  We still owed Pak Feri his cab fare and tip from yesterday's ride, but didn't have enough Rupiah on us.  By the time we got back to Medan, it was late afternoon and the banks had already closed.  We were hoping we'd be able to exchange US dollars for more Rupiah on our way to the airport today, but from the looks of it that wasn't going to happen.  The Ramadan holiday was still in full swing, and many official business establishments remained closed.  We're going to have to pay Pak Feri in US dollars.

The hotel buffet breakfast was a huge improvement from three days ago.  Now that the fasting month was over, the cooks could taste the food they prepared, and boy was it so much better!  Not only were all the entrees piping hot, but they tasted good with just the right amount of seasoning.  Only mom and I came downstairs to join other guests for breakfast; Sahara and Gigi were so disgusted by the food last time they decided to stay in the room and eat their leftover pizza.

At 10 AM, we checked out of Asean International Hotel, bid our good-byes to the hotel staff, and rode with Pak Munasri, an elderly man we met the night we dined at Danautoba Hotel, to the airport.  Pak Munasri was a friendly old man, but one you couldn't trust wholeheartedly.  There was something about him that was a little off.  The man chuckled a lot, but didn't seem to really be listening to a word we said.  On the other hand, however, if it wasn't for Pak Munasri, we would never have met Pak Feri.  It was through Pak Munasri that we were able to arrange a ride with Pak Feri. 

A quick 15 minutes later we arrived at the airport.  We told Pak Feri yesterday that we'd meet him near the check-in kiosks.  No sooner had we retrieved our luggage from Pak Munasri's van than Pak Feri showed up to help us.  The whole point of us meeting him at the airport was so that we could pay him for his services; however, Pak Feri proceeded to check us in at the Batavia Airlines desk, get us through security, and into our terminal.  He didn't have to do all that, but he wanted to and we were so very grateful for him.  This man was truly a genuine person.  He wasn't there just for the money, which we paid him in US dollars.  We even gave him extra and told him that it would be best that he keep it in US currency and wait until the exchange rate goes up before he exchanges it for Rupiah.  He was pleased and each gave us a big hug before bidding us his good-byes and wishing us all a safe trip.

Pak Feri bidding us good-bye at Medan Polonia International Airport

We found ourselves with plenty of time to kill before boarding, so we stopped in a Starbucks all because ... well, we were thirsty, it really was the only place near our terminal, and I saw this and decided I wanted to try it ...

Doesn't that look good?!  Maybe a little weird, but hey, we're in Asia -- you're bound to find eclectic beverages such as this.  Unfortunately, when I got up to the cash register to order, the lady said they were all out of red bean.  Too bad.  Sahara and Gigi ended up getting an iced lemon tea, a tall cafe au lait, and a pastry to go.

The flight to Yogyakarta was uneventful.  Fortunately, it was short, about 3 hours including a 30-minute layover in Batam, the largest city in the Riau Islands Province of Indonesia, which sit south of the island nation of Singapore.  We arrived in Yogyakarta a little after four in the afternoon, and almost waited forever for my mom's gray carry-on luggage to show its face.  Then we proceeded to the official taxi desk where we paid Rp. 50.000, or $5 USD for a ride to our hotel.  What's nice about something like this is you don't have to negotiate cab fare or worry about drivers not using the meter.  You pay your cab fare at the desk and give the receipt to the person working the taxi stand, who calls for a taxi for you.  You pay nothing else, unless you want to tip your cab driver, which is not expected but much appreciated.

Our cab driver was a nice, bespectacled, gentleman, probably in his mid-50s who unfortunately for us, didn't seem to know where he was going.  I gave him our hotel name, address, and cross streets, and the supposedly 20-minute ride from the airport turned into 45 minutes because of his confusion and the inevitable rush hour we faced at 5 o'clock in the evening.  Ugh, we just wanted to get to our hotel already!

After what seemed like an endless ride of left and right turns, we finally got to our place of residence for the next two nights, Mawar Asri Hotel, a pleasant and modern accommodation.  The front desk clerk was welcoming and the bellhop was helpful, showing us to our room in a matter of minutes.  We were happy to find our room just as I had imagined it.  After all, I did all the hotel booking and was relieved to find my mom pleased with my selection.  The beds were spacious and comfortable, the bathroom was clean and modern, and the furniture set reminded us of something you might find in an IKEA.  A two-night stay here only cost us Rp. 900.000, or about $94 USD, and breakfast was included.

After settling in, we decided to go out for a walk and look for dinner.  We weren't hungry for anything in particular, but were definitely hungry.  I had a note on my 8-page travel itinerary about Yogyakarta's traditional dish, nasi gudeg, which is a curry of boiled jackfruit cooked in palm sugar and coconut milk, chicken, tofu & boiled egg eaten with white rice.  It's not a dish I had to have because the kind I've had in the States is rather sweet.  In fact, food on the island of Java tends to run sweeter (not spicier) than the food on the island of Sumatra, and I don't necessarily like my foods sweet.  But I thought why not have a taste in the place it came from?  Unfortunately, we never did try nasi gudeg here for reasons to unfold later. 

With my Lonely Planet map of Yogyakarta in hand, we headed straight for Jalan Malioboro, Yogya's main drag, (about a 10-minute walk from our hotel) filled with shops, restaurants, hotels, and warungs, many of which are pushcarts with just a few seats at a long, wooden table nearby.  I didn't mind walking a little farther and a little longer, but my mom spotted a bakso stand, and wanted to eat there.  Bakso is a bowl of beef meatballs and yellow or white noodles in a beef broth accompanied by crisp wontons, tofu, egg, bean sprouts, and a number of other things.  Not all bakso bowls are made equally as there are many variations, but essentially it is a beef meatball soup. 

Bakso

Gigi wasn't too thilled about the bakso, but I thought it was good.

Mom and Sahara thought it was good too.

The four bowls of bakso and our beverages of es campur, or Indonesian shaved ice with coconut, grass jelly, jackfruit, etc. only cost us Rp. 10.000, or about $1 USD.  Sweeeet!  My mom then ordered an additional bowl of just the meatballs, which only she and I ate.  We thought the food was very good and filling. 

By the time we had finished, it was nearly 8 PM just in time for a Wayang Kulit performance at the Sono-Budoyo Museum.  My sisters and I had never seen a shadow puppet show, and what better place to see it than from the island it originated?  The puppets were absolutely beautiful, made from leather attached to rods that are handled by one man behind the screen accompanied by a team of gamelan players.  Though beautifully crafted, the two-hour show was extremely boring.  The story is based on the Hindu epics the Ramayana or the Mahabharata, and we had no idea what was going on in the story.  We were given a pamphlet outlining the five or so acts, but we couldn't figure out when one act ended and when another started.  In fact, all we remembered were the fighting scenes.  And just when you think the bad guy's dead, it comes back and the bashing continues for a good 20 minutes.  The man who maneuvered the puppets was also responsible for the dialogue, which was in Javanese, but his tone of voice was monotone the entire length of the program.  It sounded like one very long soliloquy.  Inevitably I fell asleep and we ended up leaving with 30 minutes left in the show.  What a yawn. 

Gamelan players and singers behind the Wayng Kulit stage screen

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped for ginger tea at an elderly lady's street cart.  She had a huge pot of ginger tea and a glass jar filled with these pink, chewy things.  I'm really not sure what they're called in English, but the hot beverage was pretty tasty. 

We returned to the hotel and called it a night.  It had been a long day, and tomorrow we had an early morning tour to get up for.  Check back for a story on our tour to Borobudur!