Arriving at a new place always has something magical about it. You step off the train or plane and enter a world that seems to play by different rules. Our first steps on Java, or more precisely in Yogyakarta, were just such a moment – and it began with an unexpected change of plan.
We had actually planned to take the train from the station into the city, as is customary. But no sooner had we gathered our luggage than a friendly driver named Supri approached us. The trains? They don’t run often, he said with a smile. I’m usually skeptical about such offers, but Supri had a disarming manner. He already had another guest in his car and offered to share the ride with us. This other guest turned out to be a Kenyan marathon runner who was in town for a big running event at the weekend. An athlete from Kenya and two explorers from Germany and Japan in one car – the journey had definitely begun.
A leap of faith and a detour to the gods
Our conversation with Supri was so pleasant that we spontaneously decided to change our plans. Instead of going to the hostel first, we wanted to go straight to the famous Prambanan temple complex. The only problem: all our luggage.
What happened next left a lasting impression on my first impression of the people of Java. Without us even asking, Supri took out his official papers and ID and handed them to us. “Take this as a deposit,” he said. “So you know your luggage is safe with me while you explore the temple.” This gesture of pure trust was incredible. We left our backpacks in the car and felt completely safe.
Prambanan itself was breathtaking. The largest Hindu temple complex in Indonesia, built in the 9th century, rose majestically before us. The main temples are dedicated to the three great gods – Shiva the Destroyer, Vishnu the Preserver, and Brahma the Creator. A light rain began to fall, but instead of disturbing us, it lent the scene a mystical quality. The damp, dark stones seemed to breathe the stories of centuries past. Of course, some statues and parts of the reliefs are missing here and there, but that’s not a flaw. It’s the authentic patina of time that makes this place so special.
Gudeg, chicken heads, and real life on Malioboro Street
After Supri dropped us off safely at our hostel – the Wonderloft, a really stylish and clean recommendation! – we were drawn to the famous Malioboro Street. The street was pulsating with life. Here, the smells of food stalls mingled with the noise of mopeds and the cries of vendors.
We were here on a mission: to try gudeg. Yogyakarta’s national dish is a sweet stew made from young jackfruit. I opted for the vegetarian version, which tasted wonderfully spicy and sweet at the same time. Yuya was more adventurous and ordered his portion with chicken. We decided to skip the truly unusual version we saw at the neighboring stand—gudeg with a whole chicken head as a side dish. A sight that will definitely remain etched in our memories!
What immediately struck me about Malioboro Street was that it felt more authentic than many of the tourist hotspots in Bali. Of course, it’s a major thoroughfare for visitors, but local life was much more present and authentic here.
First impressions of Java
My first few hours on Java were a lesson in trust and a confirmation of what traveling means to me: unexpected encounters and honest moments. The people are incredibly helpful, the culture is tangible, and the food is an adventure in itself. Yogyakarta welcomed us with open arms and gave us a taste of an island that doesn’t reveal its secrets at every turn, but is all the more rewarding when you take the time to explore it.
Maybe that’s the most important lesson Yogyakarta offers a traveler: Trust isn’t a risk, but the price of admission for genuine encounters. Java showed us the world is often kinder than our caution suggests. Those willing to extend that trust are usually richly rewarded – sometimes even with a plate of Gudeg.
