Yogya On My Mind

                       Yogyakarta, Wutchaderfur, Borobudur?

Yogyakarta...is pronounced Geo'gia-karta but I could never wrap my tongue around that. Everytime I tried to use the name it came out as Joe Jakarta or Yogi Carta.

Wutchaderfur is Mundainese for "What are you there for?"

Borobudur sounds like Borrow - Boo - Door, but roll your "r"s.

Reason for being in Yogyakarta:   to visit Borobudur temple

Ashamedly, I had never even heard of Yogyakarta; and given that it is the center of Indonesian culture and higher learning, why would that be surprising to anyone but myself?

Neither was Borobudur so much as a blip on my radar, but I'm told by the Mrs., my self-appointed navigator on the road as well as in life, that I'm flying blind on the best of days.

...we arrived at Yogyakarta's quaint airport and made our way
across the tarmac minutes before an afternoon thunder shower...

...as typical in these hot and humid tropics, when it rains, it pours

...even locals can be caught off guard by torrential showers

but just as suddenly, the rains can cease

...and as our taxi snaked through the congested streets

...one cannot help but notice the extent of grafitti

we checked-in at the Melia Purosani, supposedly
the Grand Dame of local hotels...
but she turned out to be a tired old spinster... 

...the streets adjacent our hotel were quite dark and deserted,
adding to our sense of adventure, not knowing what lurked
behind each shadowy doorway...

...but a couple of blocks later the streets came to life

with night market vendors overflowing the sidewalks

peddling everything from local tourist trinkets
manufactured in China, to local handicrafts
and of course, food both cooked and uncooked

...even horse and buggy rides

an hour of exploring left us famished, so we decided
to return to our hotel along this dimly lit and deserted street,
 passing a slew of trishaw drivers
...trolling for non-existent passengers

Mundain was told that gudeg (jackfruit) was a "must try"
...I was salivating, as if by Pavlovian response, to the thought
of savouring this renowned Yogykarta delicacy...

...so where better to dine on gudeg than at one of Yogyakarta's finest establishments
...our own Melia Purosani

...but alas, my mundane and uneducated palate did not appreciate...

...perhaps a different establishment?

The next afternoon we chose to explore by foot, the streets in the vicinity of our humble lodging...

Yogyakarta streets are mostly narrow with pedestrians,
bicycles, trishaws, motorbikes and cars jostling for position

already tight sidewalks are often clogged as merchants and
restaurants extend their shops and eateries to compete with
portable food carts and vendors...

parked motorbikes overflow onto pedestrian walkways...

...pedestrians often face impassable sidewalks

trekking the treacherous town terrain,
we were woefully wasted, whereupon we
decided to refuel at a local fast food joint,
ordering from menu pictures and table placards

...we enjoyed simple food

that was tasty,

cheap, and the best meal we had during our stay in Yogyakarta

An afternoon flight back to Jakarta, connecting to Vietnam, afforded us time to tour the Kraton, the palace of the Sultan.  Having recently seen opulent palaces in Cambodia and Thailand, we knew we were in for a real treat.

         

...motor vehicles were not permitted on the palace grounds;
this promenade was our access to the Kraton

...we walked by children flying kites on the palace  park lawn

...and approached the palace gates

...passing street vendors and following the crowd

we wandered the palace grounds...

and quickly digested both exhibit rooms...
(this one was the more interesting of the two)

...but were barred from entering the Sultan's residence,
as this bewildered tourist shortly discovered

exiting the Kraton, I noticed this lonely gentleman

so I wandered over to share some light conversation...
but he was unresponsive...
oh well, we've got a plane to catch anyways

you can't help but notice
the Mundains having a good chuckle...

...we must confess,
it was at the expense of our poor trishaw driver  who
accepted the fare of two heavyweight tourists when fellow drivers balked;
we marvelled at how he could even move the load much less pedal uphill,
for 2 kilometers in 35 degree heat!

...at journey's end, only one person was smiling

Wherever one travels, it is always the people who make our experiences memorable, good or bad. The faces of the exhausted, sweaty trishaw driver and the helpful, smiling gentleman below will forever be with me whenever I have 

"Yogya On My Mind".

...friendly and helpful gentleman
caught in the wrong place at the wrong time....
and unsuspecting victim of a typically childish Mundain prank