Our motorcyclists took us back to the little town where we ordered two glasses of coffee from the shop next door. The lady owning the stall was tonguetied when we asked her for the price. I imagined her brain making calculations of how much extra charge she could get away with.
The price wasn’t too expensive but we didn’t even get to have two sips of the coffee as the bus back into Karangpandan was here.
There were a lot of school kids on the bus but they didn’t sit. D said they probably paid less and weren’t allowed to sit. Or maybe they like standing.
At Karangpandan, I went to one of the convenience stores to get some pain killers for my head.
We stopped by a small warung run by a lady with her daughters. The eatery was a wooden shack by the roadside with an aluminium roof.
We sat on the floor and ate two person’s portion of lunch. I had fried chicken and some sweet tea. The avocado juice was really amazing too.
We lazed around the warung for a long while before we headed back to the bus terminal for the bus to Solo.
Before we left, I took a photo of the newspaper front page which proudly proclaimed: “Solo nominated as one of the seven most amazing cities in the world, beating Jakarta and Singapore.”
Follow my 3-part adventures to Candi Sukuh:
In part 1, we took the bus which played sexy music videos while in part 2, I was surrounded by symbolic dicks which I took for home deco.
While in Solo, we took a day trip to Candi Sukuh. I admit that my motif for visiting was due to its unofficial title as being an erotic temple.
On the day we were heading to Candi Sukuh, we dropped by the tourist information center opposite Hotel Dana where we were staying at.
The man at the information counter tried to persuade us to take a taxi there but we insisted on taking the public transport for two reasons:
It’s more indie.
However, we did take a cab to the main bus terminal because Trans Solo wasn’t as efficient as Trans Jogja (or Trans Jakarta, which I found out months afterwars)
From the main terminal at Solo, we hopped on a bus heading to Karangpandan where we to switched to a smaller bus.
The bus from Solo was a large bus. The seats were divided by a narrow corridor: the seats on the right could sit three petite locals while the ones on the left were for two. Being big-boned, we took the 3-seater for the two of us.
While waiting for the rest of the passengers to board, the bus was a bit warm and stuffy but it cooled down when the bus started moving as an endless gust of wind come in from from the partly open windows and the never-closed door.
As the bus chugged past fields of paddy, the bus conductor hungout of the open door, making sounds like an ambulance as we passed by motorists. “Wee-woo-wee-woo!”
In front of our row was a family with a doe-eyed child. The kid stared at us a while before turning to the front.
Show your sexy move
Usually when I am on a bus with TV, I am more likely to look at the box than the scenery. I think this has something to do with the TV being my baby sitter while I was growing up.
But I was really shocked when I saw the shows on the bus. They were was playing really sexy music videos.
Women dressed in strips of cloth writhed in front of the camera to loud techno music. I pretty much stared at the TV, wide mouthed. How on earth is something this sexy shown when Lady Gaga is “chased out of Indonesia“.
Later, the videos switched to wild life so I end up staring at the back of the head kid who had peeped at us from his seat.
At one of the stops, a boy came on board with a small guitar (a ukelele?) and serenaded each row. No one gave him money so he left after a round on the corridor.
Touchy feely on the bus
Finally, we arrived at Karangpandan station where we switched to a smaller bus. This bus was much smaller with two seaters on each side of the corridor.
I sat by the windows with D next to the aisle. A bunch of old ladies later came onboard.
The bus seats were rather cramped and I held on to the window edge with my fingers in case my butt slipped too far.
During the ride, I heard the old ladies chattering for a while. Then D spoke out loud, “Hello madams.” The old ladies twittered but stopped talking.
Later, D told me that the old ladies discussed among themselves how fair she was. This escalated to arm touching to see if the skin was real. When D greeted them in Indonesian, they looked sheepish. :3
Foot of the hill
The bus climbed up hills after hills on a narrow road. It then stopped in a small town. The conductor told us this was our stop for Candi Sukuh.
We found a motorcycle workshop and asked if they provided lifts to the temple. (I’ve read on the Internet that it’s better to get a motorcycle ride than walk.)
Two of the men volunteered after we discussed a price. I went along with the younger driver.
Wearing my hair gel-smelling helmet, I enjoyed the view of the valley and the cool air. My driver kept persuading me to visit the tea plantations and another temple faraway.
After a very steep hill, our motorcycles stopped and the drivers told us that they will wait for us while we visited the temple grounds.