Well well well, where to begin with Yogyakarta AKA Yogya AKA Jogja, mostly pronounced Jogja, but largely spelt Yogya. It’s a confusing place, phonetically speaking. We’ve had to fly from Sumatra to get here (me via KL for a new visa thanks to the previous eff-up), and are now on Java, the next island along, and home to Jakarta, the capital, which we’re missing out on the advice of… well, everyone, really. Instead, we’re heading straight to Yogya, where the countryside is green, and the temples are old.

Days 127 – 135 – Yogyakarta

We spent a whopping 8 nights in Yogya, much longer than we’d normally spend in a single location, but we did it on the basis that we’d spend the first 4 nights in a sweet little village to the south called Tembi in swanky bungalow for my birthday, and to enjoy the unique local environs of the village, and then a less swanky place north of Yogya, on the slopes of the imposing (and active) Mt Merapi where we could do day trips to the famous temples and perhaps explore the mountainside a bit.

Rather than re-live the action day by day, and to save me saying “and then we spent the afternoon indoors because it poured with rain all afternoon” (because it did) we’re going to go on an activity by activity basis. I hope you will adjust to this dramatic change in blog format.

Tembi Village

Beautiful Tembi village was a highlight. Our charming wooden bungalow was designed with a moat around it to keep it cool without needing air-con. It was owned by a very chatty, forthcoming man who is a world leader on disaster management; he liked to name drop a famous earthquake or tsunami he’d overseen aid to often. Anyway, he told us that he’d designed our bungalows to sit on a massive air bubble because (in this area) the only real danger of an earthquake to the bungalow would be it sinking deep into the ground, so they built it on bubbles of air that weigh more than the bungalow (???) so he said his biggest fear in an earthquake was that we’d float away!!! 

Anyway, I digress, but the bungalows were a real treat and the food was some of the finest we’ve had on our trip, fresh from their gardens and red-rice paddy fields. We booked on to a cycling tour and set off fairly early. We had a ridiculous contingent of three guys with us. One to bike ahead, one to bike behind and a third on a scooter (?!) to go ahead of us, stop traffic on larger roads so we could cross, and then catch up. It was quite obscenely overstaffed but we went along with it good-naturedly. 

The main tour guide was lovely and chatty and we’d naturally come across things like rice being processed in a big machine in a field and he’d pull over and say “let’s go take a closer look!” and we’d walk along the little paddy paths and he’d explain all about it and the rice field workers waved and smiled at us.

They’d based the tour around visiting the ancient (and still functioning) graveyard of the Sultans. Yogya is actually a sultanate and so has a Sultan who leads all governance in the area and apparently everyone quite likes him, but we’re not sure if he has to say that… At the very least, he’s protecting villages like Tembi, decreeing that only a small number of properties can be built on a certain amount of land, ensuring continuity of the paddy field village life, which does seem quite idyllic as you cycle through it, everyone waving and smiling with the most gorgeous views everywhere you look. I don’t doubt it’s hard work for not a lot of money, in reality.

Anyway, we got to this graveyard, parked our bikes and were greeted by an enormous set of steps up to the top. Very grand indeed! Some youngish lads were training on them, Rocky-style, and so we were inspired to race to the top (from about halfway up). Billie won, with me a few steps behind. Hilariously our guides had joined in and were stumbling up, exhausted, after us. Chain-smoking two packs of fags a day will do that to you…

After a short recovery period we were shown around this impressive structure. It was enormous and there were also some nice views. We got a bit of a history lesson regarding Hinduism and Islam in Indonesia (used to be Hindu then Islam swept across from the west from about the 13th Century – the abridged version). We had a good old discussion about colonialism – many here think it to be a great thing that happened for their countries, we explained our side which he found interesting.

We eventually returned to the bottom of the stairs and got a great snap of these old fellas playing chess.

We were happily cycling back as we were overtaken by a few men on scooters with lots of pigeons on their bike. Our guide pulled over, clearly thinking “would this tour really be complete if our guests didn’t take part in the local homing pigeon sport?” and we turned off the road to reach a strange set of posts and staging area in the paddy fields. Men sat and smoked and watched as others took to the stands and pigeons flew back and forth between them. We were told they were practicing for the big competition tomorrow, the winner of which would win a car, which seemed an awfully big prize. They asked if I wanted a go. It all looked quite nice and pleasant so I agreed in the name of new experiences. Well, a new experience it was… the real sport wasn’t just letting birds fly to each other from a few feet away. They gave me a pigeon to hold (a little unsettling as it is) and then DROVE another pigeon on a scooter about a kilometer away. All the while I was standing there, nonplussed, with a pigeon in my hand, sweating in the searing sun. Another man was pointing at the sky every now and then but muttered as it was just a wild pigeon flying around. Suddenly he says “There! Now start waving the pigeon!” the look of pure confusion I gave him led him to grab another pigeon and start waving it up and down quite vigorously. I didn’t want to hurt the pigeon, but I figured it was used to a bit of waving, that I would probably more gentle than the other men, and I was fully committed by now. Billie watched on with wide-eyes but gave me a re-assuring nod… the other bird came flying in at my pigeon, seemingly the bait for it. It missed by a good few feet, which couldn’t have been the perfect outcome, but was soon on top of the other one, probably mating or something. A smattering of nods and well dones from the locals and I had handed over the pigeons as quickly as I could. I washed my hands very thoroughly indeed. And thus ended the bike tour of a lifetime.

Yogyakarta City

We won’t linger on this other than to say… we didn’t like it much! Sorry Yogya. Lonely Planet describes walking down Malioboro Street to be on of the great pleasures in life, but we could see for the life of us why; just lots of shops that weren’t particularly attractively laid out or inviting, interspersed with some chain eateries. We visited a couple of nice batik shops and located a lovely little specialty coffee shop down an alleyway which was nice!

We made the unfortunate mistake of visiting the Sulatans Palace (Kraton) which was… really quite unimpressive (we wanted to like it, promise!) and then onto a museum which did a good job.

Some quirky museum offerings

One attraction we did enjoy was the Royal Baths, where the Sultan would go to woo the nude bathing women… all told very tongue in cheek of course. Anyway, the building and baths themselves were beautiful!

Prambanan Temple Complex 

The allure of Yogya for many is the temples on offer, and Prambanan Temple is one of its very finest. A very large and impressive set of Hindu temples built in the 9th Century. It was a bit like being back in India or Angkor again. 

Really stunning stone sculptures, very much with Javanese touches here and there. With our temple eyes very much in and our temple knowledge at an all time high we could point at the hornbills and go “ooh that’s a nice Indonesian touch” or go “hmm interesting they’ve got beardy men carved here, none of the others had that.” Impressive, right?

The temples consisted of 8 smaller (but still large) temples surrounding a very big central temple dedicated to Shiva, but all the other crowd favourites (Ganesha, Garuda, Brahma etc) were featured in the smaller temples. 

To make things even better, I spotted a group of birds and identified them as Java Sparrows, endemic to the area! I spent much time photographing them perched on the temple sides.

Cultural birds witnessed, there were two other temples to see in the complex, a short walk away through grassy knolls. They were both Buddhist and nice to see, but lacked the grandeur and imposition of Prambanan. 

We left happy on our scooter and braved the busy roads of Yogya for a short journey to a restaurant that had an amazing view of the temple, so we could watch it while we dined. Super!

Borobodur 

Now this is the big hitter, the globally renowned. The biggest Buddhist temple on earth with fascinating ancient history and even modern history with regards to existing and being restored in a Muslim dominant country.

Built in the 9th Century too, they were busy around here then it seems, it’s comprised of over 2 million stones, uses no mortar, and hasn’t been destroyed by earthquakes. Impressive! 

For mysterious reasons it was abandoned sometime in the 12th – 14th centuries, likely due to Muslim pressures and it falling into disuse, though people theorise a massive volcanic eruption could have made people flee the area; there’s a lot of big smoky ones round here!

Anyway, it was abandoned for so long it was covered in volcanic ash and jungle until it was re-discovered by Sir Thomas Raffles, British Governor of Java in 1814. We assume Sir Thomas himself didn’t stumble across it but who knows.

It was restored clumsily and then more recently by UNESCO in the 70s. And here’s an interesting bit of trivia… It comes with a bit of set-up so bear with. Each layer of Borobodur represents the path to enlightenment, the very top being Nirvana. The bottom represented Khamadatu, the realm of desire (basically the world we live in). As such, it depicts murder, thievery, sex and other such lude things. The people committing these acts get bad karma. It also shows people doing nice things like calling their grandmas… who get good karma. Anyway, when UNESCO restored it in the 70s, they covered the layer up! Apparently for “structural reasons” though word is the Muslim government weren’t happy with such obscenities being displayed on the country’s most important cultural tourist site. Pretty important bit to leave out if you ask me.

Thankfully, they’d left a corner of it open so you can go and look at a bit of it. Our guide described the reason for covering it up as “it’s a family friendly tourist site” yet there was a child in our group standing looking at it on the exposed corner. It was a great bit of sculpture, and an interesting section. I’d have liked to see more depiction of our world in 9th century times rather than more carvings of gods and demons and cosmic battles. I hope they find the integrity to open its full cultural value to future visitors.

We climbed to the top, stopping at various places to see Buddha statues, or look at some bas-reliefs. It was brilliantly detailed. The entire structure is shaped in a Mandala, the holy Buddhist shape. The views were fantastic and it almost looked as if the buddhas were sitting and admiring it – at least the ones who hadn’t had their heads chopped off.

Nirvana, the top level, was truly like nothing we’d ever seen before. The Realm of Formlessness, and truly it changes to represent it. Everything so far had been square and now became circular. Rather than detailed sculptures covering the walls, everything was smooth and minimalist. Just large stupas with holes in them, dotted on platforms. If you looked through the holes you find a Buddha statue within. This represents something about The Ultimate Truth which I didn’t fully understand but I think would be a good name for a band.

Borobodur was excellent. Very special. Would recommend to any and everyone! Though, if I had to rate my top three temples (or temple complexes of you want to be picky) of our travels, it’d be:

1. Angkor (Cambodia)

2. Hampi (India)

3. Borobodur (Indonesia)

So, it’s in good company! After finding our way through the incredibly long maze of stalls you’re forced to exit via, we met our driver who took us to another temple just down the road. It was nice, popular with those with fertility issues as it depicts fertility via a kind of weird story about a demon who eats children then changes her mind and looks after them.

So… that’s Yogyakarta for you. We had a lovely time and Billie treated me rotten on my big three-five bday. We even drank wine and it had an ice-bucket so… need I say more. Next time, we climb another volcano at sunset, because that’s how we roll these days. Bye!