. We arrive at Prob. a touch earlier than I was told, 2 am in the night, in the middle of nowheres-ville, no way Jose. I decide to stay on the bus and head to Yogyakarta (pronounced Jog-Ya- Kar-Ta) instead, I was hoping to put some requests in for a Kylie Muslim remix by the driver (kind of grows on you after a while) and I add another 9 hours to my journey.
Yogyakarta is a stones throw away from two of the largest temples in Asia, Prambanan and Borobudur. The history is impressive, I join a tour round the both sites (which are massive) however our lives are short so let me condense the basic facts. One day the Hindus look over the garden fence and notice that the "Jones" (the Buddhists) have built a four km chain of temples (Borobudur) 'Can you believe the cheek of these folk?' say the Hindus who then pop into Stones-r-us-IKEA and build themselves a thirty temple/palace complex and promptly sit at the fence 24 years later with raised eyebrows and smug "what eva" expressions.
The long journey here had made me physically exhausted and really the only real length of time I have spent with anyone is with Tracy, my toilet bowl, Tracy and I became good friends after spending most of last night together discussing whether I should have eaten the dodgy cafe diner food on the way here, the answer was no. I decided to move my flight forward and I am heading to K.L. in Malaysia tomorrow then onwards to another beach, I am looking forward to some diving again.
I am heading out of Lombok via overnight bus to Java, a mere 18 hour bus journey, I thought I would give the bus a bash since apparently that is what us traveler types most commonly use. How hard could it be? The seats recline practically flat (as long as there is no one behind you) and I have enough Valium to knock out a horse. However that same horse (and I) would be kept awake by the unique driving system of the Indonesian bus driver. You see, if I am an Indonesian bus driver one lets other drivers know one is on the road by beeping the horn, or if you turn a corner you beep the horn, or if you see a leaf fall out the tree you beep the horn or if you fart you beep your friggin horn, enough with the horn!!! The Driver could have had a heart attack and his dead body could be bouncing off that horn as we head off the road and no one would be any of the wiser. Also, of course, we have the music blaring away (yes on a night bus) a wonderful selection of female vocal Muslim music, which is not too bad, however the speaker system has the ability to go into karaoke mode, so the driver delighted us all with his Muslim rap version over the top of most of the classical songs that were on offer, perhaps hoping that some Indonesian Pop Idol judge would be out of his mind enough to to be on an overnight bus to Probolinggo (where I intended to climb another volcano mount Bromo)