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I feel at home …

It is 6 am in Yogyakarta and I feel like at home.

After a very long stay at the railway station in Jakarta if was finally time to board the train. Everything is very well organised and very very well supervised. Men in uniform as everywhere looking more or less harsh but very helpful and always ending the conversation with a smile.


We can all hear the train arriving blowing its whistle, and there is a constant sort of ding dong from the speakers and other whistles and…. a lot of noises telling the train is on its way. Which looks more like a goods train. One bid locomotive, the two following wagons carry one diesel machine each and then is the rest.

Everything happens rapidly. People move quickly. Bags are moved and packed away, seats are found, children jumping up and down.

The woman next to me has already started preparing for the journey. Shoes and socks off, cream on feet, different bottles put on the shelf, several scarfs and blankets are organised, jacket on, scarf and hoodie on head, fixing chair preparing for sleep.

Constantly poking me in the side. As if she disagrees with me sitting there or just being rude.


We all get a blanket and a pillow. I haven’t slept more than an hour and a half for the past two days so Im doing my best to find rest while being poked in the side. I lean backwards in the very spacious seat and just feel happy in a way. This is what I have been looking forward to. Being close to the real life of the locals. Having the opportunity to see what their lives look like in ordinary situations like taking the train to somewhere.

Guards are constantly patrolling the wagons, tv is on very loud, the lights are probably over dimensioned for this  place, doors don’t close properly and the shock absorbers have seen better days. It feels more like we are all sitting in open wagons. But in a miraculous way everything is still after midnight. The woman has stoped poking me.


4.30 am the train slows down. Stopes. End station and everybody gets off. I am probably the only one not knowing where to go. Surrounded by taxi and motorbike drivers, constantly saying No thank you, i manage to find my way out and start walking towards a hostel I found on internet but haven’t booked. Considering  yesterday’s experience I want to see the place first.

It is all that I need. Clean, toilets and showers and above all, the launch area is outside and I can have my coffee there. Brilliant. The rooster is awake telling me this is a good place to stay.

I’ll just have a shower, clean myself up and then I’ll go out explore.