On the way to the trainstation we came past Monas, the national Monument, a huge white pillar built by the first Indonesian president Soekarno. The big square was the place everybody was heading.
Java is, besides Sumatra the only island in Indonesia with a railway system. And it´s by far not a bad one either, at least between the major cities of Jakarta and Yogjakarta. After that, well, it´s more like a cattle train.
Winding through the highrise buildings of Jakarta, the suburbs, then the slum like shacks built from scrap wood and plastic, bamboo sticks and cardboard the passengers give a good profile of the huge city.
It´s a long journey to Yogja, bad TV entertainment and loads of rice paddys along the way. The low evening sun, blinding our way out of the carrige at arrival. A new city, a new smell. Yet everywhere the distinct scooter fragrance.
A different call of prayer each morning - the early air humming heavily with the muezzin praising the almighty - hundreds of muezzins calling accross town.
Breakfast with Nasi Goreng.
