I got up late, at 9 AM. As I was packing my backpack and getting ready to leave the hostel, I wondered what Stiffany, the German girl I had met the day before, was doing. She had said that she would just be chilling in the morning.
I checked out and headed to the Starbucks I had visited the day before in Chinatown. Since it was already late morning, there were more customers than there had been the previous early morning. The same girl I had seen the day before was working. Since my favorite seats—the corner tables—were occupied by elderly customers, I took a seat where I could look over the counter.
Because I was still full from what I had eaten at SUSHIRO, I was not hungry, so I just ordered a drink. I usually order an iced Americano because it is inexpensive, but this time I wanted to try an iced Americano with protein whipped cream. The advertisement said it contained 16 grams of protein. Since I had trained the day before and had been feeling that I was not getting enough protein during this trip, I decided to order it. I do not remember the name of the drink, though.
It did not taste like it contained protein at all, to the point that I doubted whether the whipped cream actually had 16 grams of protein. As I sipped my drink, I started journaling and updating this blog entry.
I could not believe it was already July.
I noticed some Chinese-looking boys running around and touching the products displayed on the counter while their grandparents did not say anything. Many people there looked more ethnically Chinese than native Indonesians, so I assumed the children were of Chinese descent.
When I visited China, I realized that although people are generally kind, some of them seem to be less mindful of public manners. I did not think what the kids were doing was acceptable behavior in a public place.
After finishing the update, I started thinking about what I was going to do next. There was no way I wanted to stay in Jakarta for the next few days until Friday, when I was planning to join judo training again. I wanted to move to another city, but not too far away. Since I only had a few days, going too far would make it difficult to return to Jakarta.
So I asked ChatGPT for suggestions, and Bandung sounded like a good option. I looked for transportation and found that although there was a high-speed train that could get me there in only 30–40 minutes, I decided to take a train operated by Kereta Api Indonesia (KAI), Indonesia’s state-owned railway company. The journey would take only a few hours, and the ticket cost about $10, almost half the price of the high-speed Whoosh train. I had wanted to take an even cheaper option, such as a bus, but the departure times did not work for me. The train I booked was leaving at 6:25 PM.
Since I had nothing to do until then, I sent Stiffany a message asking if she wanted to have lunch or grab a coffee somewhere. I hesitated before sending it because I did not want to come across as too pushy. I was also afraid that she would simply say no.
After I sent the message, I did not hear back from her for quite a while. I started thinking that maybe she was not interested or was going to turn me down. Eventually, she replied that she had just checked out and would love to meet. I then asked, “Is there anything you’d like to eat?”
Again, I did not get a reply for a while. Then she messaged me that she had met another girl at the hostel. I think Stiffany is naturally good at talking to people and making friends because she almost always seemed to have someone to travel with. She sent me another message saying, “We’re going to Monas. You can join us if you want.”
My first reaction was that I did not feel like going.
First, I had already been to Monas. Second, I generally prefer spending time one-on-one with people. Third, I honestly was not very comfortable with the idea of hanging out with two European girls. Back in the United States, I never felt comfortable whenever I was around groups of American girls. For some reason, they always seemed so confident and stylish that I ended up feeling inferior, which made me hesitant to spend time with them.
So I replied, “I don’t think I’ll go to Monas since I’ve already been there, but if you end up relaxing at a café somewhere, I’d love to join you. Just let me know!”
To be honest, part of me hoped I would not have to meet them.
After sending the message, I started organizing the videos on my camera. As time passed, however, I began regretting my decision. I realized that I had simply avoided a situation that made me uncomfortable. I did not like that feeling of weakness. I wanted to become someone who could step into uncomfortable situations instead of avoiding them.
I did not hear from her for another hour, so I assumed I would never see her again.
Then suddenly, Stiffany sent me a message.
“We’re going to a café in Chinatown now because Monas is too far.”
I was surprised by the message. Since they were only about five minutes away from me, I felt that I had no excuse not to go.
I stopped editing my videos, replied, “I’m coming over,” and headed out.
As I walked toward the café, I could feel myself getting nervous.
I spotted them immediately because it was rare to see foreign travelers in that area. They looked surprised when they saw me walking in, which was not exactly the most reassuring start. Stiffany was showing Mirel, a girl from the Netherlands, photos from her previous trips on her phone.
At first, I felt awkward because they naturally started talking to each other, and I felt left out of the conversation.
We ordered drinks and slowly began chatting so we could get to know one another. It turned out that they had only met recently themselves, so I realized we were all starting from the same point. That made me feel much more relaxed.
As we continued talking, I noticed something different from my experiences in the United States.
I actually felt comfortable.
I was not sure whether I had become more confident or whether these two simply happened to be people I clicked with, but I genuinely started enjoying the conversation.
Mirel was 21 years old and studying at university. If I understood correctly, her major was related to home healthcare, where she would help elderly or disabled patients in their own homes. She had a stronger accent than Stiffany, although my Japanese accent was probably even stronger.
She had arrived in Jakarta only the day before and quickly realized that there was not much she wanted to do there, so she had already decided to take a 12-hour overnight bus to another city that evening. I cannot remember which city it was.
After sharing stories from our previous travels, we left the café because Stiffany wanted to buy a few things before flying back to Germany at 2 AM the following morning. She needed socks, a pair of sandals that Mirel also wanted, and some snacks. Since she still had quite a bit of Indonesian rupiah left, she wanted to spend it before leaving.
We basically spent the afternoon shopping together.
As I mentioned before, Stiffany prefers budget-friendly travel, just like I do. She wanted to shop at the street markets because everything there was much cheaper than in modern shopping malls.
Walking through the streets with them felt very different from walking alone.
Pedestrians and street vendors stared at them as though they had rarely seen Western tourists before, and many vendors tried much harder to sell things to them than they ever did to me.
That was when I realized that, compared with them, I blended in much more.
It also made me realize why I had felt much more comfortable traveling in Southeast Asia than I had in Europe. In Europe, I was obviously a minority. Here, although I am Japanese, I am still Asian, so I naturally attract much less attention.
The downside, however, was that they constantly had people trying to sell them things or asking them for money. I imagined how exhausting that must become after experiencing it every day.
Although we spent quite a while walking through the street market, Stiffany ended up buying only four pairs of socks.
She did not seem bothered by the crowded streets or the persistent vendors, but Mirel clearly was.
I asked her about her travel style. She told me that she usually stays in hostels because she enjoys meeting international travelers, but she had never tried street food before.
That was when I realized how different the two of them were as travelers.
Stiffany was much more like me. She enjoyed finding cheap options and embraced the chaos that often came with them.
Mirel, on the other hand, preferred situations that were more predictable and less hectic. The crowded streets, the constant honking, and the vendors calling out to customers were simply not her style.
As we got closer to the hostel, Mirel asked,
“Are we going to keep shopping, or should we head back?”
I was pretty sure she had had enough, so I suggested,
“Let’s go back to the hostel and relax for a bit.”
Everyone agreed.
After we returned, Mirel went upstairs to finish packing before checking out.
I asked Stiffany whether she still needed to buy the rest of her souvenirs, and she said she would get them somewhere else.
A few minutes later, Mirel came back downstairs carrying one large backpack and one smaller one. Seeing their bags made me realize that, among backpackers, my backpack is actually much smaller than most people’s.
Since Stiffany still had cash left and Mirel needed some, they agreed that Mirel would transfer money to her in exchange for the cash. We then went to the nearby café where Stiffany and I had talked the previous night.
One conversation particularly stayed with me.
Stiffany said that spending six months traveling around Asia had completely changed her perspective on time.
Those same six months back home in Germany would have gone by quickly without changing much. But six months spent traveling through different countries felt incredibly dense, filled with experiences that changed who she was.
Mirel and Stiffany also talked about how people in Europe often complain about very small inconveniences.
They joked that it was a European habit.
I laughed and told them it was exactly the same in Japan, and probably in many developed countries.
Our standard of living is so high that we take countless things for granted, making it surprisingly difficult to appreciate what we already have.
Conversations like these are exactly why I love meeting solo travelers.
No matter where we come from, we all learn different lessons from traveling, and sharing those perspectives is one of the most rewarding parts of the journey.
Eventually, it was time for all of us to head to our next destinations.
I was genuinely happy that I had decided to join them.
As Mirel needed to catch a Grab because she did not have a transportation card, I left first.
When I said goodbye, I felt surprisingly sad.
Just a few hours earlier, I had hoped I would not have to meet them at all.
Now, I felt much more confident about spending time with people who had once intimidated me.
Once again, I learned that putting myself in uncomfortable situations helps me grow.
I wished them both safe travels and headed toward the nearest train station.
The train took only about 15 minutes to reach the station closest to Gambir, where I was going to catch a KAI train to Bandung.
Since I had been sitting down and the train was packed, it was extremely difficult to get off. I tried to squeeze my way toward the door while pulling my backpack behind me. At the same time, passengers were already boarding the train, which made it even more difficult. I eventually managed to get off with a huge sense of relief. I should have stood up earlier and moved closer to the door before the train arrived at the station.
It took me about 15 minutes to walk to Gambir Station. The station was clean and well organized. Before leaving, I grabbed something to eat at LAWSON, a Japanese convenience store chain, since I had not eaten any solid food since the morning.
For whatever reason, the train departed about 20 minutes late.
The ride was comfortable enough that I was able to continue editing the videos I had paused earlier that morning. I also kept reading Endless Horizons by the American backpacker Paul Neville. Most of the other passengers were asleep.
We arrived in Bandung at around 9:30 PM.
I was still hungry, so I bought a pastry at Indomaret, an Indonesian convenience store. From the station, I took a Grab motorcycle to the cheapest hostel I could find: RedDoorz Hostel @ Dago 2, which cost only $3.70 per night.
Like Stiffany had mentioned, staying at a very cheap hostel lowers your expectations to almost zero, which sometimes makes even small unexpected services feel like a pleasant surprise.
I had absolutely no expectations for this hostel.
After finding the reception desk—which took me a little while—I approached the front desk. The woman wearing a hijab looked slightly bothered by the fact that I was a foreigner. She did not speak English.
By this point, I already knew the entire check-in process. All I had to do was hand over my passport and say that I had already made a reservation. They would take a photo of my passport and show me to my room, so the language barrier was not really a problem.
I followed her.
To my surprise, the room was quite far from the reception desk, farther than at any hostel I had stayed at before. It was on the second floor of a small wooden cottage.
As soon as I entered the room, I saw a large number of empty beds. None of them had curtains, so there was almost no privacy. My assigned bed was between two young local guys.
I had no idea why I had been given that bed when there were so many empty ones with no one sleeping nearby.
I did not want to bother the receptionist anymore, so I simply accepted the locker key she handed me. She left almost immediately, as if she were trying to escape from me.
Unfortunately, there were no pleasant surprises waiting for me at this hostel.
There were no towels, no privacy curtains, no air conditioning, no fans, and not even a showerhead in the shower room.
To make matters worse, there were ants all over the floor, along with quite a few mosquitoes.
I decided not to take a shower because I did not have my own towel.
By the time I settled into bed, it was already around 11 PM.
Even though the lights were still on, the two young guys somehow fell asleep almost immediately.
I tried to get some sleep as well, but I stayed awake until about 2 AM because the room was so hot. The mosquitoes kept buzzing around my ears, making it impossible to fall asleep.
Eventually, I gave up and accepted that I was going to be their dinner for the night.
As I lay there, I could not help wondering how many mosquito bites I would wake up with the next morning.
