Yogyakarta Hotels
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Fuckers.
Entry 22 of 25 | show all | print this entry |
Like, OK, I have NEVER been so chased after in my whole life.
I fucking hated this city, most of everything. And its not the city, at all, it was really just the fucking men there. The locals, who saw me as a raw piece of meat, single girl, walking down the streets with BBQ-sauce dripping from my hair, they were the damn problem.
Yogya itself had a lot to offer and I got to see a very little part of it before I just packed my fucking bag and left for Bali. Even the last night when I met this guy from Latvia and another from German/Australia to steal their music I was run after, if not by the fucking Javanese men, then by middle-aged nasty German man. BLAH!
Even if this was not very cool, I learned some stuff.
One BIG thing, always lie.
No matter what, of course you're married, and yes, he's waiting for you around the corner, and no, don't tell them where you're staying or anything else about yourself.
When I jumped on the bus I heard a story about a tourist bus that ended up as hostages and later got killed. I slept well that night ey.
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