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Asia Myanmar (Burma)

Mandalay day one

Mandalay does not make a great first impression. Stepping out from the train station, it didn’t have the charm of Yangon. The buildings are newer and unattractive. There are a lot of wide, busy roads. The traffic is orderly, but motorcycles are allowed here (unlike Yangon) so it is busier. It just didn’t have charm that I saw.

I decided to walk from the train station to my hotel. Maybe 25 blocks, but it felt longer as the walk was just not that scenic and the blocks were long. I did see the moat and walls around the palace, but they were several lanes of traffic away.

As I got nearer to my hotel, I did pass a street that had a lively market and street side food vendors started appearing, but I still wasn’t that taken with it.

My hotel was decent though. The Hotel Aurora. I picked it because it had a good location and a rooftop restaurant. My room was so nice, with a fluffy bed, excellent shower and loads of free toiletries (all of which are now in my bag). I know those things may seem commonplace, but I usually slum it a bit more, so I was happy. I checked in early and took a moto taxi to the palace.

The Mandaly Palace is a big central palace complex dating to the mid 1800s. It is a fine place to visit, but many of the buildings are identical, so I didn’t feel the need to stay long.

I took a tuk tuk to the base of Mandalay Hill, which is a long climb up 700+ stairs, past and through temples, stupas, etc. It is am exhausting but picturesque journey. Annoyingly you have to take shoes and socks off a lot on the climb as you pass through sacred sites (that’s what i get for wearing boots), but it is all quite pleasant aside from my boot unlacing and scrambling over sun-scorched tiles.

The top gives views out over the city.

When finished, I took an outdoor elevator down about four floors to a parking lot where my tuk tuk was waiting.

I had him drop me off back at the palace and I walked from there.

Here is what I realized about Mandalay on the first day: 1) things are really spread out, so walking, while possible, is a long and hot business; 2) moto, tuk tuk, bicycle, and car taxis are everywhere but you have to haggle to get good price; 3) there are an ASTONISHING about of pagodas, temples, and stupas here. They are everywhere. Imagine that every cafe in Seattle or Vancouver was replaced with a gilded, ornate temple. It’s a little overwhelming.

From the palace i walked down a quieter street and happened upon a cafe by a marionette theatre, where I bought a ticket for the evening performance. I also met the puppet master, a thin and old-looking 89 year old man. Any references to the 1980s horror classic were lost in translation.

I had lunch at a sidewalk stand (another glorious bowl of noodle soup for less than $1), walked some more, and spent the evening prior to the puppets on the rooftop of my hotel chatting with a Dutch couple traveling south east Asia for six months.

I took a tuk tuk to the theatre. The show was good. It had a band playing traditional music and they did various marionette scenes of dance and animal antics.

After the show I did not want to walk the ~20 blocks back to the hotel so I took a “taxi”. Most of the other audience members had pre-arranged their transport so the cars and tuk tuks out front were taken. But there was another option: A man with a rickety bicycle to which was attached a side car. He said he would charge 2000 kyat. (That’s a little less than $2 cdn.) Done. I hopped into side car and off we went. Slowly. The man riding the bike was old. He may have been as young as mid-60s, but he looked about 80. But he peddled me all the way to my hotel through traffic. I must admit to feeling a little uncomfortable having not only a human being, but a senior citizen, cycle me home. The longer we rode, the higher grew the tip I felt obliged to pay, until, when he dropped me off, it had reached 5000 kyat. I felt he deserved it and it absolved me of my awkwardness.

The rickshaw man who ferried me home from the theatre

And that was day one in Mandalay. I went to bed with no idea of my plans for the next day.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

The Road to Mandalay

There are various ways to get from Yangon to Mandalay. Car. Bus. Boat. Plane. Train. I opted for the slowest way: the train. I did a lot of reading about the train beforehand and while many said it was great to be able to see the countryside, the general consensus was that it was slow, unreliable, and uncomfortable. I agree it was slow, and it did take longer than scheduled, but it was an excellent experience.

I walked to the train station, which is very central, for my 5pm departure.

My train ticket. I was a little concerned to see a portion of the price allocated to life insurance

The train has the usual classes and I went for the sleeper option, given that it was an overnight train: forecasted to leave at 5:00 pm and arrive in Mandalay at 7:00 am. In fact we arrived at 9:30 am.

The sleeper car had four bunks and I was sharing it with a family of three from Portugal. I’m sure they were not thrilled to share their space with a stranger, but they were pleasant. I had been allocated one of the top bunks, which was fine for sleeping, but it gave me no widow access and no ability to even sit up, so I spent most of my waking hours in the dining car.

The dining car was awesome. It was all local guys, save for one local woman traveling with a monk. They served water, soda, beer, and a surprising array of food, including at least one vegetarian dish of fried noodles and vegetables. The windows were open and, amazingly, smoking was allowed. I was in heaven. I lit up a small cigar at first and no one complained, so I proceeded to smoke two large cigars, while I watched the scenery pass by. I have always wanted to smoke on a train but figured that time had gone. It made the ride not only pleasant, but splendid.

They played music in the car – Burmese pop songs – and often the servers would sing along, which was also true when a Burmese version of “Eye of the Tiger” came on. I joined in periodically. I was joined at my table for a couple hours by a local guy who spoke decent English so we chatted.

Throughout the ride, people would walk the length of the train selling bananas, chips, water, and various snacks.

The scenery was mostly rural, though still punctuated with gold stupas.

About an hour after dark, I settled into my bunk, which was comfortable enough. They provided a pillow and sheet. The car was not air conditioned but there was a fan and the windows opened, though the ticket taker advised us keep the windows and door locked at night. The ride was bumpy, but that is to be expected for a poorly maintained colonial rain line. It was not, however, so bumpy that I couldn’t sleep. I slept fine, save for when we reached a station; when, each time, as far as I could tell, our train collided with another train.

I awoke early and went back to the dining car where I warmed myself with some tea and watched the sun come up as people tilled the soil with oxen.

The last three hours of the trip did pass slowly as I kept expecting that our arrival was imminent. Had I known the length of the actual trip I would have been less impatient at the end. But the approach to the city was interesting as it grew more populated. The houses were different. Sort of wicker looking with geometrical patterns.

Finally, we arrived at the station with little fanfare, but it was the final stop so when everyone else was getting off, I too took my leave of the train and stepped out into the bustle of the central Mandalay station.

I am so glad I took the train. I don’t think any other transport would have been so pleasant and interesting. No misadventures, just a great ride. And, yes, I did listen to Frank Sinatra singing “The Road to Mandalay” more than once to mark the journey.

Asia Myanmar (Burma)

Yangon: Arriving in Myanmar

I’ve been thinking about going to Myanmar for a number of years. The first time I looked into going they still didn’t have ATMs and almost no wifi. Things have changed and I am glad that I came here when I did because I can see it is going to get more developed and more touristy, like its South East Asian neighbours. So far (as I write this I have been here 4 days) I love it here. Interesting and beautiful, so far it does not seem as hectic as parts of Vietnam or as poor as parts of Cambodia. And it feels different. From the thanaka with which so many men and women decorate their faces to the wearing of the longyi to the eating of tea leaf salads, Myanmar seems to have its own feel. Again, these are my first impressions after a short time.

But then again, my first impressions may be mistaken. See my attempt to buy ice cream, below.

I arrived in Yangon (formerly Rangoon) via a long flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong. I had gotten an e-visa ahead of time, so i was through immigration in 5 minutes with no questions. Taxis were plentiful and their prices fair (i didn’t even bother to haggle). It was after midnight as we drove through the streets to my hotel: the Chan Myae Guest House.

I was quite happy with my lodgings, even though it was a sharp 8 floor climb to my room. Simple, but clean and with an excellent location. I was able to walk everywhere. And walk I did for my first day in Yangon. The centre is a delight for strolling with faded and mossy colonial buildings, strings of laundry, and endless street side food vendors.

I took a lot of pictures.

The food vendors are wonderful. I haven’t yet had a restaurant meal here. Tables of women mixing up noodle dishes, soups, salads, fried things, curries, yogurt drinks, tea, and juice stalls. Each one seems to have a specialty and everything looks delicious.

I have had really good luck with the soups. They will combine the ingredients as you direct into your bowl and you can just point at what you want. Then, if they see you are low on broth or noodles or onion or whatever, as you are eating, they will offer top ups. Nothing costs more than $1 (cdn). Plus, i have been going to the ones where the monks are eating, so I can just point at their vegetarian dishes and order that.

I have had one odd culinary experience. It was scorching hot and i was on foot and i thought, “Ice cream. Ice cream would revive me.” So I went to a corner store and bought a vanilla ice cream. I unwrapped it and took a bite and very quickly realized that my ice cream was not vanilla, but DURIAN. I cannot express how shocking it is to expect sweet and creamy vanilla and get instead the intense oniony putrescence of durian.

So I walked and I ate. I went in search of coffee, which was a bit of a mission. This is tea country. There are a few “proper” cafés but they are certainly not in abundance. Twice I aksed for coffee and received some sort of international delights french vanilla bullshit. And twice I flet guilty for thinking that it actually tasted pretty good. I’ll have to turn in my coffee snob card upon return to the Pacific Northwest.

I visited the Sule Pagoda, in all of its glittering splendour. It was magnificent, thought i can now say that gold stupas are ubiquitous here. Nevertheless this was Myanmar stupa no.1 for me, so it was special.

I toured around more on foot, past buildings of note. One street (I forget which one) had rows of book stalls and book shops, so I picked up something for the road.

In the afternoon, before taking on my next pagoda complex, I settled in at the bar at the classically colonial Strand Hotel, which was gorgeous and, most importantly, cigar friendly. Thankfully, it was otherwise empty, so i snuck a selfie or two.

My energies restored, I walked to the Shwedagon Pagoda complex. It wasn’t far from where I was but the 37 degree heat made it seem farther. By the time I arrived, I was hot and tired. I was not too tired, however, to have a secret race again a blonde woman across the street from me also walking to the pagoda. I won. Heat or not, I was still able to appreciate the beauty, but even my eyeballs felt burnt as I took in countless, gleaming gold and white stupas. There were so many people there but many appeared to be locals or visitors from nearby. Nothing I saw in Yangon was overrun with, well, people like me. A few backpackers here and there. The odd group of seniors, but they were few. It was nice.

Perhaps because there are not tons of tourists here, local people are not in the habit of hassling them. No one yells out to get a massage or follows you down the street trying to sell you stuff. Everyone is just pleasant. It isn’t too crowded – even the traffic is organized. Surprisingly for a former British colony, they drive on the right hand side of the street, but the steering wheels are on the right. Motorcycles are banned in Yangon, which may be why the traffic is not crazy.

Somehow I had done all of that by 6:00 pm and on 2 hours sleep. I went back to my room with plans of going out again in the evening, but promptly crashed. It was a great first day in Myanmar.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

Denpasar on Purpose & Kuta by Accident

Ubud is lovely. Nearly a paradise. When I arrived I thought I never wanted to leave, but by day four, i was ready to move on. The centre is sort of phony in a perfect sort of way. Inviting restaurants and bars and shops for tourists, English speaking staff, abundant taxis, juice and gelato stands, walkable, clean, easy … and after a day, a bit dull.

I flew to Denpasar for one day and night and realized only then how happy I was to be in a new city. A real city. Dirty, crowded, busy. With a momentum of its own that did not centre around me, the visitor.

The airport is in Denpasar, so if you are going anywhere in Bali you will likely pass through, but most people don’t stay. I would have skipped it myself but I didn’t want to be in a rush to get through traffic from Bali to make a flight. So i took an uber from Ubud (a complete rip off compared to a regular taxi, as it turned out) to Denpasar and checked in at my accommodations: the Nakula Familiar Inn. The rooms felt like your Grandma’s neglected basement spare room, but there was AC, private balconies, and a nice courtyard with places to hang out. And it was about $20 a night and walking distance to most sites. Plus, the manager was great and gave me a map and meticulously marked the best walking routes and stops along the way, after she applied magical healing oil to my finger that i had just slammed in the car door. So A+ for service.

I walked through the flower market, which was busy all day (i walked past it again in the evening) with women selling flowers and petals for use in the little palm frond offerings that are placed at least once a day at every temple and altar, on the sidewalks in front of shops, and on the dashboards of cars. Women set these out, add some food item to the flowers (a candy or cracker) and sprinkle it with some holy water or oil. When they are stepped on or ravaged by monkeys, they are replaced.

From there it was a short walk to the main market, Pasar Badung. It did have a floor of gifty items, but was otherwise a proper market with fruit and vegetables, seafood, textiles, and housewares. It smelled very bad in places, as good markets often do. I browsed around but didn’t buy anything.

I walked to the bird market. Hundreds. Thousands? Of birds in cages for sale. Some common, like chickens and pigeons, most exotic and colorful. I mentioned in a previous post that people hang bird cages everywhere, along the streets even, usually with one bird to a cage. Apparently there are bird song competitions, and also pigeon training, and cockfights. I don’t like seeing all the birds in cages but it was interesting to walk through.

On the plus side, i saw this urban turkey, hanging out in an alleyway.

From there i visited the Pura Jagatnatha (temple) and the museum, which were both nice, but at this point in the trip everything is starting to look the same.

It was then my plan to walk about 2 km to the Bajra Sandi monument. I waved off the offers of taxis. I was content to walk. And, at first, i was. I walked through residential streets. I found a nice vegan restaurant.

But then i realized i was lost. I had gone too far to backtrack, but i couldn’t find my way and no one spoke English or understood my attempts at Indonesian. I would have paid anything for a taxi. It was hot and i was exhausted. I ended up walking 20 km that day. But there were no taxis. Finally, nearly in tears, i went into a bank and found a teller who spoke a little English and who drew me the most detailed and accurate map that got me to the monument. I would send him a thank you card if i knew his name, or that of the bank, or what street i was on.

I arrived at the Bajra Sandi monument completely wasted, but it was beautiful in an imposing and evil sort of way.

I explored its nooks and crannies, then managed to get a taxi. I gave the taxi driver a business card for my hotel which had the address, phone number, and a map. He said he knew where it was. I had no idea how long the drive should take, i had gotten so twisted in my walk, but it seemed to be taking a long time. He said it was the traffic. I then noticed that the area looked more rural that i had seen. He said it was a better road. I then noticed a lot of fancy shops and restaurants and wondered why i hadn’t see them earlier. Finally, he pulled up on the correctly named street at the correct number…but it was not my hotel. Only then did i discover…he had driven to the right address in the wrong city. We were in Kuta, not Denpasar. I don’t know why it happened, why he didn’t see that the business card clearly said “Denpasar”, but there we were. It took another hour in heavy traffic to get back to Denpasar. At least i saw another city, i guess.

But that basically took up my evening. I just had a cigar and went to bed. I am currently at the airport in Jakarta, awaiting a flight to Taipei. And so ends my trip to Indonesia. It has been a good one. I could see myself returning some day to the country, but to visit other islands. Right now though, i am happy to move on.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

No Elephants or Menstruation at the Elephant Temple

On my third day in Ubud i hired a driver to take me to some of the far flung sites. It was nice to drive through the countryside, seeing villages and suburbs, with people going on with daily life, all with the picturesque scenery. We stopped to gawk at more rice terraces, which i really cannot get enough of.

I went to the Goa Gajah temple/cave, also known as the elephant cave or temple, which is odd, as there is nothing elephant-like about it. It is just an 11th C temple with a cool cave you enter through the mouth of a carved demon head. There are also pools with sacred water, but the nicest part was the walk up and down stairs in the lush forest to visit a Buddhist temple and lily covered pond.

I also visited Gunung Kawi which is one of the oldest temples/monuments in the country (so sayeth Lonely Planet). This one forces you up and down hundreds of stairs to descend into a valley to see ruins and temples, then forces you to hike up and down to visit other temples that are less impressive than their jungle settings. I was exhausted and sweaty, but the walking was beautiful. Plus, how could i complain when i wasn’t walking those same stairs with a giant sack of wood or plants on my head like some i saw.

When visiting these and a number of other temples here, if you’re scantily dressed (i.e. shorts) you will be made to wear a sarong to cover your naked legs – a measure i appreciated as there are a lot of people wearing shorts who shouldn’t be (plus, men look good in sarongs). I was covered shoulder to toe in black, so i was good to enter, but the temples here have one additional warning: women may not enter if they are menstruating. Each temple had multiple signs to this effect though there was no one checking as far as i could tell. I can’t imagine any tourist abiding by this prohibition, but consider yourself warned.

That night, after dinner, i went to a traditional dance show in Ubud. (They are happing nightly as far as i could tell.) i’m not a big fan of dance, but thought this would be worth taking in. It was. It isn’t dance in a traditional, western way; it’s more like theatre/mask work and movement. There was a large live percussion (+ one flute) band and each vignette featured one or more dancers with elaborate costumes and masks. It was beautiful. What was not beautiful was the crowd who were the rudest bunch of douchbags. They took photos through the whole show – with flashes – standing up, walking around, taking videos…and did i mention the photos with flash? They also reviewed and edited their pictures during the show. I wanted to slay them all, but i didn’t. I just say there silently hating them and trying not to let that hatred ruin the show. When the cast came out for the curtain call, one of them said that NOW we could take photos. Here’s mine:

But the show was great and very good value.

The next day in Ubud, my final full day there, i started out in great spirits and went to the market after breakfast to do my shopping. I always save my shopping for the final day, once i know how much money i still have and how much things cost.

There wasn’t much i wanted for myself – a pair of earrings, some coffee beans, and maybe some tiny trinket – but i had things for others to get. The market is great fun for browsing and haggling. (Prices seem to be about s third of the first price asked.)

Lots of clothing, carved wooden things, paintings, tea and spices, art, baskets, and the usual tacky stuff.

I finished by shopping just as the daily downpour started. I got caught outside for two minutes max, and i was soaked through. I spent the rest of the day hiding out in cafes and smoking cigars on my covered hotel balcony.

When the rain did let up i returned to the monkey forest for a bit more monkey action.

I felt kind of melancholy that day. I think it was one day too long in Ubud. It is lovely, but i like to be a bit busier or maybe it was just that my trip is wrapping up, but i felt down. All that went away the next morning when i left Ubud for Denpasar. When in doubt, move on.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

Ubud on Foot

My first full day in Ubud was spent exploring the city on foot. I visited about six super cool cafés and had an espresso at each. I visited various temples, including the main two. Before i came here i looked at maps and read my guide book strategizing so i would be sure to see the Balinese Hindu temple architecture and carvings. I needn’t have worried because every building here has a small temple and it seems like every second building is a religious site with statues, intricately carved doors, and altars or spirit houses. I took way too many photos.

I Knew there were rice fields one could walk into from Ubud so i found the path and set off. It was completely pastoral aside from a temple complex at the beginning of the journey and the odd sign promising cold coconuts at the end.

It was a stunning path through the most verdant of landscapes…palm tress, vines, grasses, and fields of rice.

There was even a picturesque bamboo swing that swung out over the valley.

I didn’t see much in the way of wildlife; lizards, dragonflies, centipedes, and butterflies – the latter of which i could have done without. (I hate their unpredictable flight patterns.)
It was beautiful but hot, shadeless, and humid, by the time i reached the top i was red faced and sweating so much i was nearly blind. Even my Kat Von D waterproof eyeliner didn’t survive. I did find a perfect oasis though. Outdoors with fresh pineapple juice and a view of a lily-covered pond and the fields. Restored, i made my way back, watching people toiling in the rice fields. Seriously. I don’t think about it often enough but rice is planted and harvested (and here anyway) processed BY HAND. That is just incredible for a food product so cheap and abundant. And to think we throw it around at weddings like jerks.

I don’t know what i did the rest of that day but i think i went like this: walk, coffee, walk, juice, walk, dinner, cigar, walk, bed. A thoroughly delightful day. Ubud is very touristy, and in a way i wish it wasn’t, but i must admit to enjoying the ease of it all.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

The Monkeys of Ubud

I arrived in Denpasar mid morning and caught a taxi to Ubud. The ride can take an hour and a half, but mine took longer as we got stuck in interminable traffic. I didn’t mind too much though as the scenery was great.

So Bali is predominantly Hindu, unlike Java which is Muslim. So gone are the calls to prayer and here are countless statues of deities and offerings of flowers. The island – or what i saw of it on this first day – is green. Every conceivable shade of green, dotted with flowering vines, orchids, magnolias, lilies…it is stunning.

It is also very touristy. Ubud is a tourist town. Restaurants catering to foreigners, margaritas, pizza, gelato, tour touts, tacky souvenir shops, spas, and bad tattoo studios. The streets are crawling with tourists, most sporting some combination of tie-dyed harem pants, Ganesha tank tops, tattoos, beards, beads, and dresses they would never wear at home. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It just means that the place has a less than authentic gloss, and also that it is a terribly easy place to visit.

My first day i didn’t have time for my customary get-my-bearings wander; i had plans to meet up with a mother/daughter travel duo from the States whom i had met at Goa Jamblang. We had lunch and hung out poolside at a Miami Beach-esque restaurant, waiting out the afternoon rain (which i have since discovered is a daily occurrence).

After that we went to the Monkey Forest: an expanse of impossibly green jungley terrain dotted with temples, statues, bridges, and twisting walkways.

But it also has monkeys. Macaques. Monkeys everywhere. Running, climbing trees, hanging off temples, eating bananas (so cliché and so adorable), grooming each other, assaulting tourists, and having sex (with each other). You have to be careful of the monkeys. Don’t look them in the eye. Don’t smile at them. Don’t hide food on your person, because, as one sign warned, “the monkeys will know.”

I didn’t have any monkey-related troubles. I just stalked them with my camera, trying to catch them being adorable.

After that i parted ways with my companions, and continued to walk. Had dinner at a beautiful outdoor restaurant where, although smoking is allowed, I annoyed all the other patrons with my cigar smoke (unintentionally).

Back to my hotel and to bed. … wait! Have I neglected to mention my hotel? Hotel Okawati. On a charming side street off Monkey Forest Road (note: ALL side streets here are charming), it is a small complex of tropical plants around a turquoise pool next to rice fields from which frogs and birds fill the air with their chatter. It is lovely. More lovely than i am accustomed to, but I’ll tough it out.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

Yogyakarta: final day

On my final day in Yogyakarta i had planned to go to the cigar factory as it had closed at 2:00 pm the day before and i missed it…but as it turns out it is also closed Saturday and Sunday. Dammit. So i had the day at leisure. Honestly there isn’t much to report. I hung out at this cool hipster cafe for a couple of hours where i had a jack fruit burger, which was a revelation. So good. And some excellent coffee.

I then walked to find a cigar store i read about…only to find it had closed. Fuck. But the walk was interesting and i passed markets, paintings, and had fresh soursop juice.

After that i decided to walk out of the downtown area to this other area i had seen when i drove in from the airport where there was a ton of street art and some public sculpture. The walk wasn’t too long but in the heat and humidity it felt like a grand trek.

It didn’t disappoint. There was an array of murals, from the great to the sucky, but all were enjoyable to look at. There has been such an impressive amount of street art here, and one artist in particular whose works i started to seek out: multicoloured figures often with heads replaced with flowers or birds. Cool stuff.

So that was my day. It was good and fairly relaxing and totally unstructured. The next day i was flying to Bali.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

The Descent: Goa Jamblang

Yesterday i hired a car to take me from my hotel in Yogyakarta to Goa Jamblang, a cave about a two hour drive from the city. The cave wasn’t listed in my guide book (that’s a failure of Lonely Planet, in my opinion, but once it is listed it is sure to get a lot busier) but i had seen pictures of a magical cave on the internet and that was good enough for me.

The ticket was 450,000 rupiah, which was more than reasonable, and but they only allow 25-35 people in per day, so it is important to get there early. I was #5.

We were walked over to the entrance to the cave: a large hole in the ground created by a sink hole, with perfectly vertical sides descending about 60 meters (200 feet ish) to a verdant bottom.

Our way down? Being lowered on ropes held by a group of slight men in flip flops.

Not exactly comfort inducing, but i figured it was safe, or at least no more dangerous than some of my previous travel exploits. They outfitted each of us in helmets and well worn harnesses.

I was a bit nervous but happy that i wasn’t going first. “Number 5!” They called out. “Huh, i guess we aren’t going numerically”‘ i thought. I made my way to the edge of the cliff and they clipped my harness to a single, knotted rope. Stepping off the edge took a moment of courage but once i was free and not plummeting to the ground, it was wonderful and exhilarating. I was slowly lowered to the ground taking in the greenery and the height.

Once everyone was at the bottom we made our way into the cave, which was dark and slippery but only a short walk to a grand opening filled with light from a natural opening above.

The sun, filtered through the leaves high above, made for a cascade of beams of light that was either heavenly, magical, or simply amazing, depending on your world view.

Far below us still was another drop off and water flowing. Water dripped from above making for other worldly rock formations.

It was all just incredible. I felt like an adventurer, an explorer, and, at times, a character at the beginning of a horror movie.

We spent about an hour or two down there and then we were lifted back to the surface. This next photo is me being lifted and looking down from part way up. The red things below are the helmets of the others.

We all shared a lunch (included in the price), united in our conquering of the cave. And that was that. Done by 1pm, satisfied and exhausted and muddy, i went back to the hotel and spent the rest of the day just hanging out at various cafés and enjoying a cigar with my curry.

I highly recommend this experience and suspect it may be the best thing about this trip.

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

A Day in Yogyakarta

The day before yesterday, after a slow breakfast and morning cigar on my hotel’s balcony (which i only discovered after 2 days), i went to the Kraton – the sultan’s former palace. I had walked there the other day so i knew it was only about a 30 minute walk from my hotel but i really wanted to try out the local transport: the ojek. Basically it is a rickshaw but powered by a motorbike instead of a bicycle. Unlike a tuk tuk in that you sit at the front, out in the open. It is a great way to see the city and the breeze is marvelous but you are sitting at the front of a motorized vehicle. No helmet. No seat belt. It’s like riding around on the front bumper of a car, except you ARE the bumper. It was great.

The Kraton was nice. It was pleasant to stroll around the grounds and see some of the buildings, but the museum displays of the sultan’s suits and epaulets weren’t very interesting. The best parts though were the men in traditional dress displaying Indonesian puppets and a concert of serene percussion-based music.

From the Kraton i took a bicycle rickshaw to the Water Palace, which was small but pretty and i got to see batik and puppets being made.

From there i wandering around a lovely neighbourhood of narrow streets, small houses, and flowering vines. One thing that is odd about most of the narrow streets is that they are frequently hung with bird cages with a small song bird or two in each. It makes for a lot of lovely birdsong, but seems like a sad life for the birds.

I visited an underground mosque and then, tired and sweaty, found myself at a pleasant cafe where i decided it was time to try the kopi luwak: the famous civet excrement coffee.

The coffee here is excellent – luwak aside – but i couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try the world’s most expensive coffee. They prepared me two cups, one with an Italian stovetop maker and one with a Vietnamese maker. Both cups were excellent, but was it really $12 Cdn good? I’m glad i tried it and it was good but at that price once is probably enough.

I did have a relaxing time chatting with the proprietor and watching his pet civet, which spent its time napping and being extraordinarily fat.

Next i decided to go looking for the bird market. I thought i had a handle on it and people kept telling me i was heading in the right direction, but hours passed and i couldn’t find it. I however see a lot of hardware and automotive repair shops. At one point, to escape the heat, i took refuge in a supermarket, enjoying the AC and their selection of sugary cereals. After walking a bit more i broke down and took an ojek back to my hotel.

I didn’t do too much after that…walking, smoking, reading…i think i was asleep by 8:00.

(More super cool street art seen on my walks…)