I was a bit sad to leave Thailand. In the end, I spent a lot of time in this country and I started to understand the culture and thai people. Well… At least few of them!
Traveling from a point to another was easy in this part of the world and I started to get the references and know how to react to all kind of situations.
But I had to move on cause my heart was still starving for adventures and the road kept calling my name. Paolo Cohelo, my guide, said: “If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; it is lethal”. It could seems pretentious or completely out of note but when you are stuck on an island for about a week, things start to feel a bit repetitive and you can “suffer” from routine. Your feet usually start getting itchy and your back missing a weight that only your faithful backpack could fill.

I decided to take a ticket direction Java. I wanted to experience Indonesia not only for the paradisiac islands around Bali, but for what I thought would be more authentic and less touristic. I wanted to be confronted to the difficulty of discovering a new culture, another main religion, a way of living and an explosive new kind of gastronomy.
For an unknown reason, Jakarta scared me. I flew, then, to Yogyakarta, the cultural capital of Java. More my kind of things…

I arrived at the little airport and felt like wearing my tight (but comfortable) legging was not an option. I was the only western lady and in this kind of situation, better try to look as invisible and self confident as possible. I was not scared but men stared at my legs and women were all wearing covering cloth and hijab. Also, you feel more respected and people are more into helping you if you follow the “fashion” themes of the country you are in. After being a pillow, a blanket and a towel, my sarong served me as a skirt. I love sarongs. Every backpacker should have sarongs with them. Always.

I got outside of the airport after paying the fee for my one month visa and searched for the local bus. People were really surprised and amused to see a little European girl refusing taxis but were all really helpfull. I’ve booked an hostel for a night in the south of Yogyakarta and I had no clue about where it was really. Outside a map and an address, I just hoped that people in the bus and in the street could give me directions.

I entered in a little platform where you are supposed to pay your ticket. And wait for the bus. I showed my map and everybody surrounded me to have a look about what was going on. I could feel happiness and enthusiasm even if no one could say a word in English nor could help me with the direction: I was a stranger, they just wanted to talk to me for that.

When the bus arrived, the door opened and somebody grabbed me from the bus, placed me and started talking to me with a nice broken English. 

I managed to find my hostel while looking at the direction of the sun. Long story… I felt like a Pocahontas that day… I tried after that the “listen to the wind, it will give you the direction” technic of Grandmother Willow, and it worked again. Twice!

I couldn’t believe what I saw in the Adhisthana hotel. That was the best place I slept so far. Amazing swimming pool, cosy bedroom that smell  NICE, huge breakfast included, cheap, good location and friendly staff, what else does a tourist need?

I shared a female dorm (don’t expect to find a mixed dorm in Java. No need to remind you it’s a Muslim country) with a little mermaid from Mongolia. Vento has a very particular and amazing strong character. I will tell you more about her later as you can imagine, I interviewed her the next day.
  

We spend the night searching for some booze (kind of impossible to find around) and in the swimming pool, taking pictures at each other’s in the water. A kind of artistic photographic research that I missed so much doing… A dark and emotional serie appears after few shots…

  
   
*Reaching the bottom of the pool