Yogyakarta

At first, I loved it. A new place full of friendly helpful people, cool little losmens (homestays) tucked away down narrow alleys, cheap street food, convenience stores (gotta love them) and the usual touristy knick knacks. I walked around and got my bearings after taking way too long to settle on the ideal losmen. I ended up choosing Lotus because it had wifi and cause I didn't know anybody residing there. I had to get away for a minute.

I slept alright in my room. The room itself was a bit small, but sufficient. I love the shower even though it lacks hot water. And the noise from the nearby mosque was bearable. I only woke at 4 something and about 7 with cotton stuffed in my ears as usual. I tried to sleep until 9, but I couldn't and being surprisingly alert at half past 7, decided to get up. I ended up going upstairs for wifi and ok, twist my arm, I'll have the free breakfast. Nasi goreng and some strong Javan coffee hit the spot even though I usually do without breakfast.

I also got some good information from some friendly people from Slovenia, China and France. People who have already spent some time here. I got the list of must-sees and eventually went out to see them. And I can't say they were that recommendable, but it was something to do and I got some exercise out if it. I actually found them quite laughable to be honest. Walking around the Sultan's Palace, I was waiting for something to strike me, waiting for something to take a picture of, but it never came. It was only fun to engage with the occasional becak driver or tell the random friendly guy that I wasn't interested in batik paintings before he had a chance to talk about them. I don't care! Please go find an elderly tourist who wants to hang that shit on their wall.

I expect a little harassment in a touristy city. It's just somewhat difficult to know what form it's going to take. And now I know that most friendly men are either becak or moto drivers, batik scammers or tour operators. Not that I don't like them, it just gets exhausting every minute. I wouldn't mind taking a ride, but I just got here and I'm trying to get my bearings. So, I'm the stingy asshole with too much money refusing to help the local economy. Oh well.

Fortunately, there were plenty of food vendors. The iced beverage was delicious whatever it was. And the fruit guy let me tell you. Papaya, melon, mango and pineapple drizzled with a sweet brown sticky chili sauce. Yum! I think I prefer just straight papaya, but when in Rome. If I hadn't spilled some on my shorts, it would have tasted even better. Sweating like a pig, I headed through the carnival in front of the Sultan's Palace and back up Malioboro Street past the mass of people vying for the tourist's attention.

I had some street food. I wasn't even hungry, but everyone was doing it. So I ate whatever it was and it was nice, drizzled with peanut sauce. Had to pull out a long hair, but like I've never done that before in Vietnam. I made a noise to suggest disgust and then went on eating it cause I knew they didn't care and nor did I really. It's just fun to be a dick sometimes. And then the musicians asked for some change and I didn't give them any because I honestly didn't even hear them and I got some shit for that. But fuck 'em, if they were good my ears would have paid attention.

I had to get off that street. Malioboro, I keep saying Marlboro, is fucked up. Way too many tourists, mostly Indonesian (surprising to me for some reason) and way too many tourist shops. I don't want to buy a thing. It was too hot to be walking outside so I quickly dodged the becaks, motorbikes and horse carriages and ignored the older friendly guys who I knew would eventually want to show me some batik paintings. The young kids who just wanted a picture and a giggle I could handle. So, eventually I found my street, tucked into the convenience store, found a cold drink and a sugary snack and found my losmen. Hiding. I don't want to talk to anyone. It's quiet here and I need a couple hours to recharge the batteries.

It's amazing how easy it is here. 10 bucks for my room including breakfast. 50 cents for a cold drink. Street food for less than a buck. Three kilos of laundry cleaned, folded and freshly scented for 1.50 in half a day. An adaptor to recharge my camera battery for a dollar. The list goes on. Even tours are cheap it seems almost ridiculous to do them on your own. Meet people, free breakfast, comfortable transport to and from the temples AND a reduction in the entrance fee for basically the same price as going alone, taking the local bus and paying full fare at the temples. Fuck going it alone. Sign me up for the tour!

Anyway, content for now. Need a lie down and a shower. And a little rain to freshen things up. Enough said.