Indonesia - it's big.

We flew into Jakarta, which the guidebook suggested was a pretty awful place for the tourist, so we decided to bypass the city altogether and head straight to the smaller city of Bogor, a couple of hours away. Bogor is famous for a large Botanical Garden founded by Stamford Raffles (of Singapore fame), so we thought it might be a more relaxing place to be.

A Waterfall - a big one too.

We arrived on a bus from the airport and were very soon assisted (some might say accosted) by a helpful tourist agent called Afif who helped us find a hotel.  Before we all say "well done Afif", I should point out that the hotel was pretty dire and our room made some prison cells seem quite enticing.  Still, it was cheap and we were hot and tired and agreed to rough it for a couple of days. 

Afif - getting wet

Now, I have been lucky enough on this trip to have met many friendly Asian people, some of whom wish to point out how cool I look, or, where applicable, which famous Hollywood film stars I resemble. On one occasion in Shanghai it was remarked that I looked like a film star but the provider of this compliment was unable to say which one - I made a quick get away in case he said Danny DeVito. In Bogor, however, my lookalikie capabilities took a disappointing turn when it was said that I resembled Mikhail Gorbachev - I mean for f*cks sake, he's like seventy or something!!!! This undoubtedly well-meant remark left me deeply suspicious of the Javanese.

It turns out that, although the Botanical Gardens are indeed peaceful, they are the only peaceful thing about a city that, in all other respects, is very Indonesian. Huge, gridlocked roads, constant noise, the call to prayer every morning at 4.30am, chickens, cars honking, more chickens - it was all go. So, whatever we might say about Afif, he is a good salesman, and he persuaded us to sign up to a three day tour of Bogor and the surrounding area.  This included a look at some of the local cottage industries including traditional gong making and puppet making (honestly, it was more interesting than it sounds).  Once away from the cottage industries of Bogor, we traveled into the countryside for some hiking to look at a big waterfall and provide a foodstuff for the mosquitoes, as well as staying on top of a mountain in a traditional bamboo house. All very peaceful.  The second day was spent looking at various aspects of life in the countryside including rice cultivation and tea production etc. The scenery was amazing and it gave us a better understanding of the way of life of many Javanese (and indeed many Asians).

An Indonesian tractor

There was a brief visit to a primary school to flaunt our tourist-celebrity status (I was relieved  when the pupils, being 6 years of age and non English speaking, drew no similarities between me and former Soviet leaders).  We posed for many photos and were able to persuade some (in fact all) of the children to be in them.  A very strange diversion indeed...

After a night in a hotel in which water from a nearby hot spring was pumped directly into the bath room, we rose for the last day's activity which involved walking in the crater of an active volcano.

As a geologist I obviously have an interest in volcanos, but even the most casual rock observer could not fail to be impressed by the spectacle of super-heated bubbling pools of mud, the sulphurous stench from steaming fumeroles and the general absence of flora and fauna  in the crater.  We wandered round for a while, occasionally finding it difficult to breathe the eggy air without vomiting, before we headed back into the jeep.

Get it on, bang the gong!

We were dropped in a town called Tasikmalaya from where we were to catch a train to our next destination: Yogyakarta.  The train was some hours away, but due to the town being void of any touristic provision, we sat on the platform for several hours playing "Who am I?" and the "Name Game" - traveling is not always exciting.  We had taken the trouble to pay for designated seats so we were a bit put out to find that when the train arrived our seats were occupied by a family of four Indonesians, all fast asleep. Not wishing to wake them and be seen as the "bullying westerners" we found a space to sit for the 5.5 hour journey - on the floor. By the toilet.  It probably rates as one of the most uncomfortable journeys we have ever endured but we were kept in high spirits by the prospect of being met at the station (at 2 in the morning) and ferried to our hotel.

Hangin' wiv da kids

Joe (and Alex) vs the volcano

Lost in a sea of children...

Volcano and rice fields