Jubilant in Java

With great pleasure I escaped the mega mayhem of Jakarta, I can’t understand how various friends have put up with living in that place for prolonged periods of time.But it does hold a certain interest, and the people are unbelievably friendly. Wherever I went I was greeted with pleasant words and friendly smiles. For a city of over 10 million people that’s saying something! It’s so unlike London, where you’re lucky to even catch someone’s attention, let alone get any response from them. An interesting difference on public transport in Jakarta is the areas designated for “Ladies Only”. On buses and trains they tend to be the front end of the carriage, while the rear section is for mixed occupation. It raises some interesting questions on the topic of sexual equality, especially considering the views towards women in Muslim society; they have the best of both worlds in this one aspect of life. I didn’t realize the first time I boarded a bus and wondered why the hell I was being ushered to the rear of the bus. It’s Ok, I can handle being a down trodden male! (Photo: Ridge and furrow method of growing mixed crops - West Java)

Leaving the city eventually relied on public transport yet again. After making enquiries it didn’t seem a straight forward matter of finding a used bike dealer and buying a cheap machine. The only advice given was to walk about and ask people, motorcycle hire shops for example. And the only price bracket I was given was in the region of £600, way too high for a what I wanted. Maybe I could have found a cheaper deal, but I wasn’t prepared to loiter any longer than absolutely necessary. I wanted out of the mayhem, to get back on the road again, by whatever means. Of course the temptation was to get as far away as possible, yet I wasn’t ready to do one continuous long haul journey, straight through Java. Picking a few suggested destinations the choice was made, Yogyakarta, halfway down the island and within striking distance of some highly recommended religious sites. (Photo: A well earned rest - Rural East Java)

Once more I plumped to go by rail. For me it’s a soft option, you have freedom of movement and your own allotted seat. There’s few means of travel that give the excitement of hanging out an open door at 60mph or so, snapping photos of unspoilt countryside. Of course it does depend on the areas you pass through, but even if it’s grotty areas you aren’t subjected to direct confrontation with the grime and filth, which is somehow pleasant too. And that was the case leaving Jakarta, the city and its suburbs went on forever, I was so glad not to be on a bike sat in the noisy, polluted midst of it all. Miles of corrugated iron shanties lined the tracks, the roofs had no break between structures, there were acres of unbroken rusty iron facing the sky. Now and again their frontage would boast ponds of standing water, choked with pondweed, oily from the residue on the surface. It was a far cry from the scene found in tourist-ville, open sewers were still the norm and piles of waste littered the trackside. (Photo: Pristine rice terracing - Entering Central Java)

The first sight of rice paddies brought hope that the urban degradation was over, but these proved little more than brief corridors between more urban squalor. My assumption was that successive towns were gradually spreading out as the populations of each grew in size. All were industrial towns, commercial compounds surrounded residential areas, intruding upon the agricultural boundaries, no doubt at the expense of fertile land. For a long time it looked as though it was one continuous metropolis, but I don’t think so. A thin ribbon of dilapidated housing lined the tracks, as seems the case in many poorly developed countries. Behind would be little more than a road, maybe supporting a ragged line of stalls scratching a meagre living from passing traffic. Most of these houses were dirty and squalid, surrounded by bare earth scratched clean by chickens in their endless pursuit of food. There wasn’t any room between them for personal vegetable plots, though occasionally bananas grew close by. In fact trees were common, my ID skills are severely lacking but mangoes, lychees, rambutans and tamerind are fairly ubiquitous. (Photo: Country lanes on the bike - Back track between Yogyakarta and Borobudur, Central Java)

Even when we left the large towns behind houses tended to be clustered together in tight groups, at the edge of large expanses of ride paddy. And they large, flat, verdant green expanses, stretching to the far horizon, under an azure sky. How quick that lifted my spirits, an empty landscape of vivid colour, the only sign of life peasants in conical hats, often up to their knees in mud. Unlike the urban corridors these were not unbroken fields of paddy, smaller plots being segregated by boundaries of earthen banks. It’s easier to maintain a controlled and equal level of water, though here there were no signs of shortage. Irrigation canals carried a steady flow of water, breaches in the earth defenses kept each individual paddy field at the desired level. Of various sizes and shapes it wasn’t easy to tell the basis of ownership, it didn’t look communal. Individuals tended their own fields, yet the irrigation must have been a communal effort, it was evidently dredged by hand and fed everyone’s paddy. (Photo: Hello ducky - Back track between Yogyakarta and Borobudur, Central Java)

Far from being a monoculture the crops varied significantly. Beginning as single bamboo canes, planted in the narrow dividing walls of the paddy, beans were grown as a by-product. As we progressed into the heart of Java separate plots were given over solely to beans, grown on ‘A’ frames. Patches of maize put in a regular appearance, as did sugar cane and a few unidentified grains and pulses. Grains tend to be grasslike, whilst pulses grow with leaves, stems and flowers (at the appropriate phase of growth). Of greater interest was the mixing of other crops with the rice paddy. Broad strips of ridge and furrow would have rice growing in the furrows while maize, cane or any variety of other food would be planted in the ridges. One foodstuff there was a noticeable absence of was livestock. I only saw ducks, which serve a triple purpose. As well as meet they lay eggs, but I think they also help keep the paddy clear of snails. (Photo: Borobudur temple - Nr Yogyakarta, Central Java)

Central Java is much more hilly, so the rice paddy was grown in narrow, steep terraces. It makes for a particularly beautiful landscape.

I guess there’s no keeping off motorbikes for long, when I discovered bikes for hire in Yogyakarta I needed no excuses. I plumped for the biggest on offer, a nearly new Honda, yes a genuine Honda, GL150. The highly recommended Buddhist site of Borobudur is some way outside the town, it can be done in a day but I decided to make an overnight trip of it so I could get in a couple of days riding. Of course I wasn’t about to ride straight there and back, instead a number of small lanes were chosen at random so, I could meander my way between the surrounding volcanoes. That raised a few eyebrows, and smiles. Everyone was utterly charming, the kids bashful but cute, their parents amazed but welcoming. I never realize how many Christian areas there were in Indonesia, before I thought it was restricted to the Lake Toba area of Sumatra. Here it isn’t so much one or the other, it’s mixed, everyone lives within the confines of the same villages, and as far as I could tell happily so. (Photo: Watching for volcanic eruption - Borobudur temple, Cetral Java)

Being reluctant to diss the Buddhist monument I must say I wasn’t overly impressed. It’s a UNESCO heritage site, and probably deserves the designation considering where it’s situated. OK, I’m totally spoilt; I’ve seen the best of the Mayan ruins, wonderful ancient Hindu monuments, gorgeous temple dedicated to Buddha and even the Potala Palace. Borobudur is claimed to be the single greatest Buddhist temple, I can only say they shouldn’t hype it so much. It’s worth seeing, it is not worth paying the extortionate price to stay at the associated hotel, nor the added cost of a sunrise or sunset viewing. If you took both of these on top of the hotel you’d be paying over £100 for 24hrs access to the site. I don’t know who writes some of these travel guides, personally I think they’re out of touch with the whole ethos of travelling, they’re writing more for the casual tourist. Horses for courses I think the saying goes. (Photo: Top level of Borobudur, each bell structure houses a stone Buddha - Nr Yogyakarta, Central Java)

It was interesting, I enjoyed wondering round the multilayered monument. Seen from afar it’s more impressive, but still not anything as dynamic as viewing Tikal from the top of Temple 4 (look it up). The reliefs are badly degraded and often mismatched, I’d still recommend seeing it if in the area, but look at the cheaper option.