Yogyakarta to Bali

When last we spoke, I had just climbed a volcano. The original plan was to go to the Dieng Plateau in Central Java but that involved a bus and I was too darn tired to hop on. So, I took the night train to Yogyakarta, an artsy, backpackery town. It was hot and bothersome and I said hello the biggest cockroach anyone in the history of the world has ever seen. That's how I felt, anyway, at 2 am in my room.

Needless to say, I hightailed it out of Yogya ASAP and ended up going to Dieng, which was cool because it's mostly an Indonesian vacation spot. It's the site of a bunch of craters, some are still active, and they use the action for an electricity plant. I had a lovely, lovely, lovely homestay with hot water, clean sheets, and a host who couldn't speak English (it was perfect--I wasn't in the mood to talk). I managed to communicate that I liked to cook and we cooked lunch the next day, though! I found out the secret ingredient around here...MSG (for serious).

I had to go back to Yogyakarta since Dieng is a bit inacessible, and I got a new hotel room and a bus ticket to Denpasar, Bali. I hereby declare Indonesian buses infinitely superior to all other buses in terms of value, comfort, and level of scariness. It cost me as much as Bolt Bus to go about 21 hours, and I didn't realize it had been 21 hours until I looked at my watch because I had SLEPT! We reached the ferry just in time to see the sun rise over the islands. And I caught a last glimpse of the volcanoes on Java.

Now I'm in Ubud, Bali, an artsy town with many, many Westerners and Westernized prices. I wish I could live in my Ubudian bungalow for the rest of my life. They put hibiscus on my bed every morning.