Drenched at Candi Prambanan

From Borobudor, to Candi Mendut, a couple of kilometres away. In Australia, the stereotype holds that men, when lost, would prefer to stay lost rather than ask directions. In Indonesia, with a private driver, the opposite holds. Each time I've been with a driver, they've stopped and sought locals for directions to wherever I'm going. Candi Mendut is one small structure and, after Borobudur, unimposing. Only looked at it from the carpark, as I was hot and tired from the previous few hours. Suggested we head to the hotel. Roni suggested we go via Prambanan Temple, located on the outskirts of Yogya.

Arrived here at 3pm. Usual rigmarole, having to skirt the touts to find the ticket area. Go there and, as at Borobudur, directed to the special ticket area for International Guests. Pay the international price (120.000 rupiah) and then ask for a local ticket for Roni. Redirected back to the original ticket area, where we pay the local price (15.000 rupiah). Toilets for the International Guests, though, are worth the mark-up.

As we approached the temple, the clouds darkened. Maybe the rain would hold off, I said to Roni. "Ya, kita beruntung," he replied (Yes, we're lucky).

Prambanan Temple was severely affected by the earthquake. Large sections of the temple are under reconstruction and off limits to the public. Scaffolding shrouded two of the main structures. Outside the temple, displaced stones were arrayed. Signs warned, Dilarang masuk - Forbidden to enter.


Here we can see one of kucing's ancestors.


Spit. Heavier spit. Rain. By now, forced to hire umbrellas, which, in the downpour that followed, were for display purposes only. Had been here for 5 or so minutes. A rushed tour. Not so lucky after all. Above the neck was dry, everything else was saturated. Pointless running. Either seek shelter and wait it our or, if wet, submit to the inevitable drenching. Converse not the best footwear option. Waded through rivers of water. Rain so heavy that the pesky touts disappeared, only the hardiest of stallholders remained to do business.

What a contrast: Borobudor for an hour of solid looking (and being interviewed) and sunburn, Prambanan for 5 minutes of looking and 10 minutes of slow walking back to the car, rain thundering on the brolly, feet sopping, jeans soaked. Next time, I'll do Borobudor early in the morning, with family of course.

Mentally fatigued, having spent the day conversing in and listening to bahasa. Arrived at Hotel Santika at 4pm, not the prettiest of sights. Shoeless, drenched, the typical wetfish look. Staff very helpful at the desk. Got my room. Swish, very. Joy of joys - a bath and a shower! Thankfully I'd brought an extra pair of pants, ostensibly along for the ride so they could be drycleaned - the '70s ones I picked up at the Majura Primary School fete. Tomorrow will nheed to look for new shoes or thongs. Showered, shaved, feel clean. Flicked through the 50 or so TV channels. Still raining. Off to the Business Centre to upload photos. It's taken me nearly 2 hours to do that task.