I had been going back and forth between waking up and falling back asleep since about 4 AM. I was not sure whether the final destination of the bus was the stop where I was supposed to get off, so I had to keep checking my location on Google Maps. The passengers seemed to move to the front seats right before getting off the bus. As time passed, the bus gradually became emptier.
As the bus got closer to my destination, the bus coordinator approached my seat and asked where I was going.
“Yogyakarta,” I answered.
After hearing my destination, he gestured for me to move to the front seat so that I could get off the bus smoothly. I checked to make sure I had not left anything behind and realized that I could not find the magnetic mount that I had been using to attach my camera during my trip. However, I did not have enough time to search my seat thoroughly, so I moved to the front while hoping it was somewhere in my small backpack.
The front door started opening as the bus slowed down. Still worried about the missing magnet, I got off the bus successfully. The bus pulled away as soon as I stepped off.
My attention was completely on the missing magnet, which made me forget about my large backpack that I had stored in the luggage compartment underneath the bus.
I realized my mistake within a minute and desperately tried to spot the bus ahead of me. However, it had already disappeared into the distance. As I looked around, I noticed another bus that looked similar to the one I had just gotten off. In my panic, I thought it was my bus and started chasing it. Although I never caught up to it, I put myself in a dangerous situation and was almost hit by passing cars.
I tried to calm myself down and called the phone number printed on my ticket receipt. However, because I had not purchased a calling service when I bought my Indonesian SIM card, the call would not go through.
As I became even more panicked, I noticed a few people watching me from the side of the road. Without even thinking, I walked over to them and asked if they could call the number for me. Since they thought I wanted to be taken somewhere, one of them, a man who looked to be in his 60s, started speaking before I had a chance to explain.
As we talked, I realized that they barely spoke or understood English. Using every bit of body language I could, I managed to explain the situation. Even after they realized I was not a potential customer, they were still willing to help me.
The elderly man who had first spoken to me called the phone number on the receipt. Unfortunately, the call did not connect for him either. He then asked me which bus company I had used. After I showed him the company name, he suggested that I go to the company’s nearby office, which I barely understood.
He asked one of his colleagues, a man who looked to be in his 40s, to take me there. The man did not seem very happy about it, but he reluctantly started his motorcycle and let me ride on the back.
His motorcycle was smaller than the ones I had ridden through Grab. It took only a few minutes to reach the office, where I saw another bus that looked just like the one I had taken.
The driver who had brought me there got off his motorcycle and explained the situation to a man who was cleaning one of the parked buses. Because of the language barrier, the conversation was difficult. A few minutes later, a couple of employees wearing the bus company’s uniforms arrived. The man we had spoken to first explained everything to them. In total, four people tried to help me.
While talking among themselves and smoking cigarettes, one of them asked me to show the bus’s license plate number. Fortunately, I still had my ticket stub, so I showed it to them.
One of the uniformed employees called someone whom I assumed—and hoped—was the bus driver. After he finished the call and discussed the situation with the others, they told me that I had to go to Wates Station, which was about an hour away by motorcycle. They also explained that it was my only option.
I told them that I would pay for the ride. After agreeing, the motorcycle driver said it would cost 100,000 IDR (about $5.50), which was more than double what I had been paying for Grab rides. At first, I thought he was overcharging me, so I checked the fare on Grab. To my surprise, it was almost exactly the same. So I agreed and got on the back of his motorcycle again.
After thanking the two bus company employees, we set off.
On the way, we had to stop twice—once to borrow a helmet from someone and once to fill up the motorcycle with gas. I have no idea how long the ride actually took, but it was long enough for my butt to be hurting badly by the end.
During the ride, I kept imagining the worst-case scenario—that the bus had already turned around and was heading back to Jakarta with my backpack still inside.
When we finally arrived at Wates Station, the driver got off the motorcycle and walked with me. I saw several buses with the same design parked next to one another. We approached a man who was washing one of the buses while I checked the license plates one by one against the number on my ticket.
The third bus had the matching license plate.
A huge wave of relief washed over me.
As soon as I found it, the same bus coordinator I had seen earlier suddenly appeared out of nowhere and opened the luggage compartment for me.
Inside was my backpack.
I had finally found it.
I was incredibly relieved.
After I retrieved my backpack, the motorcycle driver asked me where I was going next. I told him that I was heading to Malioboro, the famous street in Yogyakarta where the hostel I was staying at was located. Since it was in the same direction we had come from, he asked if I wanted another ride. He offered to take me there for 50,000 IDR, and I agreed, considering it was about the same distance as the ride he had just given me. I was sure it would have cost almost twice as much if I had used Grab. I paid him in advance.
Although I was worried whether my butt would survive another long motorcycle ride, I eventually made it to Malioboro Street. I got off the motorcycle, thanked him, and was impressed that he had managed to find every destination without using a map throughout the entire trip.
My time in Yogyakarta had started with an unexpected incident, which made me wonder what else was waiting for me during the next few days.
Since the hostel was still a little farther away, I decided to walk. Along the way, I wanted to settle into a coffee shop because I was exhausted. I randomly walked into a café inside a hotel and relaxed there. While I was there, I finally brushed my teeth, which I had wanted to do for hours. After about 30 minutes, I left the café and continued walking.
When I arrived at the hostel, I asked whether it was possible to check in even though it was still before the official check-in time of 2 PM. The receptionist kindly told me that it was not possible yet, so I left my large backpack at the front desk and started thinking about what I wanted to do in Yogyakarta.
A pair of French women then arrived and asked whether they could check in early as well. One of them told me that she had been traveling for six months and that they had just arrived in the Malioboro area. She also told me that they had visited Borobudur Temple, one of Yogyakarta’s most famous attractions. She personally did not enjoy it very much because it was expensive and she was not particularly interested in temples. However, her friend had liked it, so she had gone to visit another famous temple, Prambanan. We had a brief conversation about our travels before she left.
I went back to searching for things to do. I had actually looked up attractions and local food online beforehand, and I especially wanted to visit Mount Merapi and try several local restaurants. Since I was staying in Yogyakarta for three days, I had decided to visit the mountain on my second day.
Finding a tour to Mount Merapi turned out to be more difficult than I had expected. Eventually, I found a sunrise tour that seemed reasonably priced. A few moments later, however, I realized that there would also be an additional entrance fee that had to be paid on the spot, which frustrated me. I wanted to cancel the booking, but it was already past the cancellation deadline. If I had been traveling with other people, I could have shared the cost, but that was not the case. I gave up and accepted the situation.
I left the hostel and headed to a restaurant that I had wanted to visit, Bakmi Jowo Mbah Gito. The wooden interior was unlike anything I had seen before. I ordered the dish that a young staff member recommended to me: Bakmi Godog, thick yellow noodles served in a flavorful soup with scrambled egg. I absolutely enjoyed the meal before leaving the restaurant.
By then, I was mentally and physically exhausted from both the backpack incident and the unexpectedly expensive tour. I wandered around for a while before entering another random coffee shop to relax. I ordered an espresso for only 8,000 IDR (about $0.40) because it was the cheapest item on the menu. At that point, I really did not want to spend any more money than necessary.
I barely managed to update my travel blog.
Since the Mount Merapi sunrise tour was scheduled to begin at 3:45 AM the following morning, I left the café and took a Grab motorcycle to another restaurant that I had wanted to visit: Mie Ayam Ibu Tumini Sari Rasa Jati Ayu. I simply did not have the energy to walk anymore.
When I arrived, there were far fewer customers than I had expected considering the restaurant’s reputation. The menu was attached to the wall, and a staff member who looked to be in his 50s, with several missing teeth, came to take my order. After realizing that he did not speak English at all, I simply pointed to a photo of the dish I wanted. He immediately understood and shouted my order to the outdoor kitchen, where a couple of young cooks, who looked rather bored, were working.
The food arrived within just a few minutes.
I was served noodles topped with a rich brown sauce, curry sauce with pieces of meat, and a glass of tea. I had not intended to order tea, but I did not really mind.
The meal was incredible.
In fact, I think it was the best meal I had eaten during my entire trip so far when considering the taste, price, and portion size. I decided that I would definitely come back unless I found another restaurant that I wanted to try even more.
That meal completely erased the negative emotions I had been carrying throughout the day.
By then, it was around 6 PM, and since the restaurant was closing at 6:30 PM, the staff had already started cleaning up. After paying, I took another Grab motorcycle back to the hostel.
The same young receptionist I had spoken to earlier was still there. I completed the check-in process and was surprised to discover that the hostel consisted of tiny individual rooms, each just large enough to fit a single bed. I had expected a dormitory-style room instead.
As I was getting ready to take a shower, I realized that the hostel did not rent out towels. After the overnight bus ride, I desperately wanted a shower, so I took one anyway. With no towel, I simply let the air dry my body.
Completely exhausted, I fell asleep at around 8 PM.
