If you asked me to describe the journey through central Java, I would say “banana trees and red brick roofs.” For eight and a half hours we chugged through the countryside, watching the speeding landscape change from rust coloured fields to mountains and rice paddies. It had been a smooth morning leaving Jakarta, a city that offers little to the tourist but traffic jams, smog and a jungle of skyscrapers. I’m sure it’s beating heart is hidden somewhere beneath all that, but we were off to gentler climes.
Ben and I sat on the train, watching forests of banana trees punctured by bright red brick houses. We rolled into Yogyakarta, a place with charm and culture and history, and straight onto a tuk tuk. So much more fun than a taxi! We scooted around the leafy streets to our home for the next two weeks, a small homestay called KaliKala. The air was filled with the beeping of horns and the rich smell of woodsmoke. We found a cute little place to eat before heading back home. There are fewer banana trees, but still plenty of red brick roofs.
