Indonesia 2025. Day 31. Man around town

Bungee jumping, paragliding, swimming with sharks, and riding maverick waves are all time-honored diversions for the thrill seeker, but none of them compares to riding passenger with Irvan as he hurls his motorcycle into the tangled Yogya traffic. True, the man is a virtuoso on two wheels, but I had to go into spiritual hozro as I saw my life flash in front of my eyes. 

Eventually we got out of the city and I was able to relax and enjoy seeing the scenery unfold, with the myriad of tiny restaurants feeding breakfast to the milling crowds, stalls opening and displaying their wares, and home makers getting the makings of lunch and dinner at the open market. The fruits and vegetables are the best, with crowns of bananas arranged in the most ingenious patterns, and other veggies and fruits harmoniously blending their colors to welcome the day.

Seems that we are in the peak of the rice harvest (although I suspect that rice is grown year round), and the farmers are busy cutting the stalks and thrashing the grain by either slapping the sheaves against the hard cement of the side of the road, or using thrashing boxes right at the paddy. Once the grains are separated, the stalks are taken to feed the cattle, and the rice is dried by spreading it on tarps by the side of the road. The occasional bursts of rain trigger frantic efforts to cover the grain, which has to be spread again after the rain stops. I believe it takes several days to dry the husks, which are then removed by tossing the grains unto the air whenever there is a breeze. Further processing to rub the brown skin off the grains either happens at home or at the mill.

Our first geologic stop was at a supercool outcrop of pillow lavas formed when a lava flow entered a river, overlain by river-reworked tephra with beautiful cross-bedding. Unfortunately the river runs right along the contact, so we were not able to put our finger on it. Wherever water runs over bedrock the Indonesians take the opportunity to gather, and this place was not an exception. A band was playing, and plenty of karaoke artists jumped on the stage to entertain the dancing public. There was an old timer there that most have sung the equivalent to the songs of Frank Sinatra, who was enthusiastically applauded by the adoring crowds.

We then rode to the top of a mountain (another scary ride) to reach a mountain valley rimmed by a fascinating mosaic of rice fields. Not surprisingly there was a cafe up there, where families were taking their ease, enjoying a cool drink and munching on delicious snacks. Favorites are rempeyek a very thin dough mixed with delicious herbs and peanuts, and fried into a crisp tortilla chip. Its more doughy relative mendoan tempe has strips of cabbage, carrot, and green beans mixed with the dough. Finally, the crisply-fried grasshoppers add a touch of exotic flavor to the delightful pause.

Somewhere along the line we upset a rooster, who in its best Indonesian chanted kukuruyuk. His American bro would have sung cockadoodle-doo, while a French rooster would sing cocorico, and a Mexican rooster would have answered quiquiriquí. Phonetically, I believe the Indonesian and Mexican roosters would have understood each other fairly well.

Closing the circuit we saw all types of volcaniclastic sediments, deposited in both marine and continental settings, but the picture remained unclear because the outcrops are few and far away from each other. Once we started coming down from the mountains, we got a glorious view of the valley of Yogyakarta to the west. You know, from this perspective it looks a bit like a tropical version of the Los Angeles Basin.

Back at home I went to acquire some basics, including a more secure wallet, a watch, a pair of headphones, and a rain poncho. Outdoor Indonesian gear is of very good quality and is very reasonably priced. I am getting ready for a change in pace once I get to Sri Lanka.

I spent the late afternoon at the home of Gayatri and Henry, decompressing and getting a healthy dose of family and home cooking. Bob, they all send you their love and many happy memories.