Java
The island of Java was not exactly as I was expecting it to be; not that my expectations were far reaching. Java is by far the most populous island in the 6000 island archipelago and it shows. It was not Bali with coffee plantations and quiet towns. It was a bustling active place with chaotic traffic and sprawling cities. We flew into a city called Surabaya. The plane had invocation cards with Muslim, Catholic, Protestant, and Buddhist prayers all asking God to please help us arrive at our destination safely. Whatever the intention it made me think of the plane that went down in Indonesia a few years ago that took them weeks to find. I was not comforted. Surabaya in Indonesian means shark and crocodile. Sounds like a pretty inhospitable place to found a town. The view from the air was of a large metropolis surrounded on three sides by acres of square ponds. I learned later that the ponds were for farming crabs and catfish. The city itself did not contain a lot to do or see and we spent much time trying to make new flight arrangements resulting from the loss of my credit card. The Indian airliner we book said they would refuse to let us board the plane without the original credit card. I told them I had my passport; to which they replied “So? What good is a passport in identifying a credit card?” Whatever. I ended up cancelling my reservation with them and booking with another airliner. Since we were flying out of there we only stayed a few days before heading off to Solo. Solo was nicer than Surabaya in many ways. It was a smallish town that was easy to navigate by foot. The district of Solo has its own royalty and we spent one afternoon touring the palace grounds. We also caught a glimpse of the special coronation anniversary dance, which was interesting for the first 15 minutes or so but went on for an hour and a half. In the evenings the main street was lined with little carts selling sweet little pancake like treats. We ate well in Solo. From Solo was went to Yogyakarta; the cultural capital of Java. If there is one thing that really sticks in my mind about Yogyakarta it is batik. So much freaking batik. Everywhere. Shirts, sarongs, artwork, and more all on display in countless little shops and galleries. Yogyakarta also has its own royalty. The king of Yogyakarta is also the elected governor of the region. His father was the right hand man of Suharto. One of the nights we were there the Japanese princess came to visit and there was a large procession of official vehicles down the main street. We found delicious ice treats called es campur that Erica couldn’t get enough of. Though we liked it here we after a few days we were ready to move on. And move on we did…to Bromo. This was my first active volcano experience. It was an eight hour minibus ride to the small town near the ring of mountains and volcanoes. The view was great. It was really neat to see all the people farming the volcanic soil as they have probably done for a long time. One day we hiked up a trail to the top of a nearby mountain to see the view from on high. It was really pretty. The next day we woke up very early and set out in the pre-dawn light to hike to the rim of the volcano. It was quite an experience to see the smoke rising out of the earth. The smell of sulphur was strong. The most memorable thing about that trip though was all the little ponies from the village that the local used to ferry people across the ‘sea of sand’ for a small fee. They were not very big ponies and they were carrying big westerners across uneven terrain and up steep hills. We took some ponies back from the volcano to our hotel. It was very cheap and while Erica loved it, I was happy to get off my little pony.
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