When I first got to my guest house in Yogya at about 11:00 P.M. I thought to myself  "I'm never going to be able to sleep here, in the morning I'll have to find a place a little way outside of the city." I was wrong, as soon as I walked through the gates into a lovely garden area and those gates closed behind me I was in a different world. Outside the gates I knew that the sounds of a busy city were still there but inside all was peaceful and most important, quiet. The only sound was that of water falling gently into the swimming pool, from a small fountain that cascaded down from a large rock garden. 

   This lovely guest house, almost in the heart of the city, ended up being a haven from the hectic pace of life in Yogya. The swimming pool was fantastic and surrounded by a huge rock garden and the largest bonsai trees I've ever seen, old and gnarled but beautiful. Orchards were hanging everywhere and birds sung from their cages or aviaries. My room was clean, with an overhead fan and a full bath. The dining area was by the pool, under a thatched roof. Both the food and service were excellent.

  One day while at breakfast I got talking to an older couple from New York. It turned out that they were on my flight to Bali. He was 78 and his wife was a little younger. They had come to Yogya to meet their son an daughter-in-law, who were in Indonesia on business. What amazed me was that when they got to Bali they were going back to their sail boat, a thirty four foot sloop, for the next leg of their circumnavigation. They planned to sail to Sri Lanka, then India, the Maldives, Seychelles, south around South Africa and up the east coast to the Canaries then across the Atlantic to the Caribbean and north to New York and home. They told me they had left home three and a half years earlier and though they had had a few small problems they wouldn't have given up their experiences for anything in the world. They were living my dream, but I can't picture myself doing it at that age.

    I give them all the credit in the world for their sense of adventure and the nerve that a trip like that takes, even for the young and hearty.

    During my stay in Yogya I went to dinner with a couple from California that I had met in my little guest house. They were also importing and had come back to Yogya after a year, to visit with the owners of one of Yogya's main Batik producers. They told me that during their last stay, (Which had been their first.) they had found a really nice place to eat. It was a karaoke bar that had a good menu and a very good sushi chief. As we walked into the bar, (Remember they hadn't been there for a year and only then for three nights.) the owner walked up to us and said something like "Jim, Kathy, hello! Glad to see your back, how long do you plan to stay? Have you sold many sarongs?" After which he asked them who their friend was and after introductions, led us to a table. (For the next four nights, I had dinner at that little bar and was always treated like either family or at the very least a regular.) 

     I really wouldn't be surprised if I walked into that bar today and was greeted by, "Hi Al! glad to see you, how long are you planning to stay?"