Java – Borobudur

From Yogyakarta airport it’s a 1.5hr ride to Borobudur. It’s late when we arrive at Villa Borobudur Resort – but even in the dark it looks a pretty special place. Jenn resisted the urge of staying at the uber plush Amanjiwo hotel next door in favour of this local hotel. It’s stunning – lots of carved wood, Indonesian art and with the added bonus of being run and operated by local staff. Food is amazingly cheap – roughly £3 a dish (it is literally 20 times more expensive next door). Quickly discover that the assortment of sambals offered range in spice level from hot to crazy hot!  

Next morning we are treated to our first look at Gunung Sumbing volcano which looms through the mist in the background. The view from our terrace is stunning – with Borobudur temple visible in the distance.

Our first day is pretty relaxed – we visit the rice terraces and temple at Selogriyo on the slopes of the Sumbing mountain. Love rice terraces, they are very beautiful and a reminder of what hard work is really like. Feels to me like methods are largely unchanged through the ages and watching locals dry out their produce provides a real sense of how tough subsistence living is. The temple itself is modest – but serene. We are amongst the only people there.   

Second day is far busier. We are due to leave the hotel at 5am to climb Sinar Hill to watch the sunrise. Ordinarily a 4.30am start would require an alarm clock. Not necessary in this instance. The call to prayer is the loudest and most prolonged I’ve heard anywhere in the world (and we’ve stayed above a mosque in Istanbul). I have no idea how many mosques are in the village – but it is literally a cacophony of sound. It seems to go on for most of the day. That said – it’s a sound I’ve always enjoyed – it’s a reminder that you’re somewhere special and evocative of many previous trips.

The sunrise itself is not bad – few clouds which make for an interesting contrast as the light gradually makes it way across three volcanos.

After breakfast, the main event, a trip to Borobudur temple. Only recently re-opened to tourists post pandemic – we are lucky that the timing worked. Claimed by many to be amongst the 7 wonder of the world, the Buddhist temple was originally decorated with 2,672 relief panels and 504 Buddhas. Restored in 1911, it has clearly been a labour of love. The ultimate jigsaw puzzle!

Can’t decide whether I like the format or not – timed, guided tours through the temple. It means numbers are controlled – but harder to do your own thing. I’m far more decisive regarding the shoe policy. In an effort to protect the site, all visitors are required to change their shoes in favour of the world’s most uncomfortable bamboo flipflops. I can only imagine the design is intended to ensure that one does not overstay ones welcome by ensuring that your feet can not survive in said vessels for longer than about 2 hours!

In any event the site is worth the crippling blisters. Guide insists on some collective Tai Chi – which adds to the atmosphere. He’s a bundle of energy and clearly passionate about the site. He explains that he will never reach nirvana as he is too distracted by the beautiful women he escorts around the site. Fair play!

Return to the hotel for a swim and opportunity to process some photos. I really need to learn to take less! By now I’m knackered.

While I’m processing photos – Jenn wisely takes a power nap. Fresh from her snooze and refortified by an impromptu afternoon tea – she suggests that we walk to the viewpoint at Batu Putih (“White Rock Mountain”).

Hotel suggests that it’s a 45-minute walk. What they neglect to say, and perhaps this should be obvious, is that it is pretty much vertical! As they unlock the gate at the back of the villa – we are greeted with a pathway that just heads straight up the mountain. At this point I start to hope that Jenn decides this is not for us. Having decided that it can’t possibly be this steep for the entire walk – we head off. Each bend brings with it another ascent. I watch Jenn ploughing ahead and resign myself to my fate.

Three quarters of the way up, when I have readopted my sweating mess persona (only this time on acid), our path winds through a small village and farm. The local children unashamedly, and with great glee, point and laugh as we pass by. They are clearly unaccustomed to seeing people look this pathetic. I‘m sweating buckets and dearly want to catch a lift back down on a local motorbike – but I now have a point to prove to the locals. Stiff upper lip and all that.

The view from the top is pretty cool – unlike my good self!

Having consumed my body weight in Nasi Goreng that evening – our resplendent bed, complete with mosquito net beckons. The friendly resident gecko, that lives in the wooden bedframe, deposits liberally on the floor bang on cue (as he has done for the previous two nights). As I lie back, I notice that one of the huge local wasps has been trapped on the inside of our net. It’s clearly a man-eater with villainous intent! Operation Remove Killer Wasp is quickly enacted – takes two of us and no small amount of shouting to remove said insect without being stung. Busy day – but death by wasp has been narrowly avoided.

Another early start greets us on our final day in Borobudur. 5.30am this time (so roughly an hour after we are awoken by the call to prayer) to visit Prambanan temple on our way to the train station. We nearly didn’t bother, but I’m glad we did. The temple dedicated to the Hindu trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva is well worth a visit. Much calmer and quieter than Borobudur (plus no dodgy shoes) – but splendid in it’s own right. Jenn becomes a celebrity with multiple requests for selfies from the locals. Makes me smile.

With that it’s 45 minutes to Tugu station and a three and a half hour journey to Mojokerto and the next part of our Indonesian odyssey.