Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 363

Brighton, UK Captured My Heart

How have three months gone by so quickly?! How is it possible that I only have a month and a half left before I return to the States?! 

When I left to come here at the end of January I expected to get homesick at least once (maybe not right away but after my Dad left and it sunk in that I would be in a different country for more than a week by myself) but that time never rolled around the corner. It didn’t sneak up on me after I talked to my mom on FaceTime or even when my sister showed up to visit for a few days. I think I know this feeling has yet to grab hold of me. The other day I was talking with some of my flat mates and we all agreed that we feel perfectly at home living in Brighton despite being thousands of miles away from our real homes.

When I left America I hoped that this would be all that I hoped it would and that this semester would live up to my lofty expectations but I never imagined that this experience would go above and beyond. It makes me sad to think that I have to leave England and these people that I have spent just about everyday with since I got here in less than two months. I am not ready for the adventures to end. Even though we talk about visiting each other and having reunion get-togethers we all won’t be living in Brighton again (although some of us may…aka this girl typing right now). Enough of the sappiness now and on to the adventure we had yesterday.

Flat 29A and its honorary members took on the Seven Sisters Cliffs yesterday and dare I say we lived life on the edge. The sun was out making it a wonderful day to hang out on some cliffs and at the beach in Brighton. We all packed ourselves a lunch because what is a sunny day without a little picnic with a view. It was nice to just bask in the sun and relax with friends. We explored the cliffs and by explored I mean get adventurously close to the edges and throw giant rocks into the ocean and listen for them to make a loud splash. Are we all in our 20s you may be asking yourself? Well yes we are but what is the point in life unless you act like a 5 year old every once in a while? By the time we had had enough of the cliffs we climbed down and explored the beach below. Climbing around on the rocks out in the water all while being careful not to squish a little clam or snail. And of course we topped off the adventure with a stop at the ice cream truck for a little treat before catching the bus home. It was truly a day well spent with great friends.

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The Sensational Costa Rica

 

Costa Rica is known for its exotic surroundings, distinct culture and adventurous activities. When my plane landed in San Jose, Costa Rica that day, I knew that the trip was going to be a memorable experience. As I left the plane and walked through the busy halls I couldn’t help but admire the designs painted on the walls. Colorful figures blending into the background; a combination of the culture that the country is so proud of and astounding artistic skills. Being home schooled, I thought I’ve been to the most interesting countries in the world, before I visited Costa Rica that is.

 

My family rented an apartment in a gorgeous hotel located right on the beach (literally ten feet away from the ocean). Of course the weather was as perfect as it gets so I decided to spend the day learning how to surf. After the frustration and physical exhaustion of training passed, I started to enjoy the cool and salty water, the warm sand beneath my feet, the perfectly aligned waves that made surfing seem easy, and just observing the perfect beach scene as if I was on the cover of a glossy travel magazine.

 

Of course there are so many exciting things to try, so I didn’t waste any time! Next we decided to try paragliding. After traveling up a seemingly endless mountain we reached the top, unloaded and prepared everything for the jump, but what was perhaps the scariest moment of my entire trip was standing on the edge of the cliff, observing the town in the distance that now seemed so much smaller. Then I jumped, jumped off the edge of the mountain into the empty sky, the combination of wind and gravity making me glide powerfully towards the earth. It was one of the most sensational feelings, flying in the sky, feeling as if my body is completely weightless, not worrying about a thing in the world. Ironically the magical flight did end with me landing in a cactus, but nevertheless, it was an unforgettable experience.

 

Next on my to-do list was salsa dancing. Of course as I first came to the class the only feeling I had was the head spinning confusion and awkwardness, but after the first three hours of dancing I started to understand the movements and really enjoy it. Although my entire family came to the first private salsa dancing class, eventually everyone drifted, leaving me alone as I danced, jumped, swirled and laughed to the energetic Spanish music. The class was fascinating, and of course I continued taking the private lessons for the rest of my stay in Costa Rica.

 

My stay in Costa Rica was definitely the most exciting trip I’ve ever taken. Every single day I got to spend on the beach, enjoy the exquisite Spanish cuisine, meet people with the most fascinating stories, and really experience a perfect vacation away from all the worries. I’ve learned to live my life to the fullest and cherish every moment because someday you will remember this as one of the best days of your life (and you don’t want to take that for granted)!

 

About The Author: I’m Svetlana, a 16 year old from Russia who currently lives in Colorado and fluently speaks three languages, I enjoy playing tennis, jogging, and my goal is to attend an Ivy League university after graduation.

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Kalinga to Banaue, Philippines

After spending two days in Kalinga, a remote village in the mountains of the Philippines, watching Wang-Od (the oldest known tatoo artist) hammer her ash covered thorn into the flesh of other travelers, Marius and I decided to descend the mountain path. The slope was steep but the farewell was steeper. With a heavy heart and thoughts of a distant time when I would be able to return and witness such a wealth of talent and experience, we began the descent. As we ambled along, swamped in a sea of green, the sun beat down its humid rays.

A while after setting off, the sun began its descent towards another magnificent Asian sunset, one of many I had gazed at open mouthed over the last three months. As yellow flowed to orange, and orange bled to crimson, my mind was blank as to why we set off at the time we did. So embedded was I in the landscape that my human reasons for being on time had been lost in nature’s greater beauty. What was it again? OH! The last jeepney! That’s why we are walking, to catch the last hope of reaching anything remotely soft to lay our heads. A patch of grass would do if it came to it, but I didn’t walk this far for nothing.

We reached the three-quarter mark between Kalinga and the outpost, where the bus had dropped us in the first place, but decided it was too late to catch anything but mosquito bites this far up the mountain. We ambled on, unsure where we would reach or when we would reach it. Its not all bad, wandering in paradise.

When we finally made the outpost, we remained optimistic that we were going to get some transport back, and found a spot to sit a wait. Lo and behold! A jeepney arrived! Unfortunately, the jeepney hurtled past us with a cheery wave from the driver. That’s it then, we sleep here. As we got up to start looking for a bed, a huge bus grappled and groaned it’s way up the hill, dragging its old wheels behind it. We tried to flag it down, but as it drew closer and we scouted for a place to sit, our hope flickered like the tired headlamps. Not an inch of this bus was available to sit on. Even the roof was piled high with chickens, children, buckets and blankets. You name it, and they had it squeezed on this bus. The sight more than made up for the disappointment of not getting a ride. Again we began looking for a bed.

A little way down the road, we saw a pick-up truck slinking around the mountain. Instantaneously, two left arms rose in unison, a plea for onward travel sailing towards the driver. He stopped. We asked where he was going. “Banaue.” BANAUE! It is a great feeling to have all stress and worry sucked out of every tired fibre of your body in an instant. It’s like tiny mountain streams percolating through your veins, spreading from the base of your neck, down to your grubby toes. I jumped onto the back of the truck. Had I looked at the sky at that moment, I would have seen a group of guardian angels giggling. On the back of the truck was a pile of straw covered in a tarp, big enough for two. Ultimate luxury.

Homeward we went. stretched out on our chariot, lounging like emperors (minus the grapes and the toga). Eyes flicking between steep cliffs and rocky ravines, small rivers down in the valleys carved our path to a restful night. The mountains in the north of the Philippines are stunning. We had been driving for an hour when our truck slowed and the driver started laughing. Rains the night before had caused a massive rockslide. The mountains had spread their feet just a little bit further and stepped on the road. Workmen had been smoothing the stones into a ramp all day, but the jeepney that had passed us earlier didn’t have enough gusto to climb the steep incline. I jumped out the truck and ran to the back, joining the workmen pushing the truck up the slope. An extra inch of throttle was found and feet were dug in, then finally she was up and over. Back on the truck, we passed the jeepney letting people back on. I gave the driver a smile and a wave and got a knowing wink in return.

We reached Banaue just after dark, said many ‘thank-you-very-muches’ to the lovely driver and drifted up to our warm, comfy beds and beyond…

Kalinga to Banaue – A Smile and a Wave by Alex North Rule 07/09/2014

Picture: I’m in the middle with the white hat on.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Canada: Freedom in open air

I’d been living in a place of winter, of summer snows and spring shadows. Edmonton is a place where dreamers fall into reality, shave away their hearts on sleeves and hibernate in economic security and bored fantasies. At least, that’s what it was to me.

Life on the road left me broke and with nothing. Adventure swooped me up and ditched me when I’d nothing left to give. The time of my life, but it had to end. Borders and boundaries drove me back to the New World, where I felt trapped in the drone of living a traditional life, if only for a short time. Travel had set me free, but taken away the joy of monogamy, monogamy to place and stability.

I tore off to Canada’s west for a short while to regain myself. Off to the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia. Canada’s Florida: a land of retirees and recreational visitors. A desert oasis in the North, a land of vineyards and orchards.

For a time, I bicycled the trails, through wood and creek. The scene went on and on, closed in and unending. Push hard, keep moving, a silent and repetitious thought moved through my mind. Finally, the scene opened up to endless road through desert hills, diverging in each way, with me at its center. Downhill and accelerating, I let my hands leave the bars, as the push of streaming air steadied my weight. I extended my arms outward, slightly conscious at first of eyes that may be watching, and then not caring. I was soaring. In that moment I was freed. Not to do something for someone else, but for myself, even without purpose.

I flew by expanses of green and brown and open air. In the late afternoon, the sun set shadows in corners and edged out angles to make them more pronounced. My decisions in life came to me at once, and it was all so clear. Why live in my dark and dreary hope for more? A place where life happens, but I am too afraid to make it mine. Why that, when I can live in sunshine, moving always and ahead of boredom’s path?

Here is where I am myself, in open air and without external pressure. A place where I can stop and consider my happiness, what truly makes me happy, not what I may think does. To see life in all directions and without restriction. In an unending world that will not swallow me in darkness, but in new life and experiences. Be it any place, any time, but always moving and changing. This is my freedom.

My wheels slowed their turning and I came to a stop at a dip in the road. My hands on the bars again. I looked behind to see my companions in the distance, struggling to keep up the pace I’d built in my elation. For a moment, I lingered in the solitude, knowing that it would end. This place would end, for me at least. I’d go away and likely never come back. Although, the feeling I had there would grow and evolve. It would change me. I’d never feel whole again in shadows, but with the open air at my fingertips.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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The elusive Room 27 at Planet Baobab, Botswana

Room 27

“Makgadikgadi? I asked what was out there, and they said ‘Nothing-only idiots go there.’ I thought fine, that’s the place for me.”

Jack Bousfield, 1963

It was indeed this quote by the famous hunter, adventurer and safari operator, Jack Bousfield that convinced us to plan the most memorable breakaway imaginable.

A Saturday in June marked the beginning of out journey. We travelled 1000 km from Pretoria, South Africa via Francistown and Nata in Botswana to arrive just in time to experience sunset at Planet Baobab.

The architecture reminded us of a well-planned meeting between Antonia Gaudi and the Kalahari Bushmen. Lanterns in the yellow grass mark the pathway to the different sleeping and ablution facilities.

We chose an authentic Bushman hut as our accommodation. Dung floors, gas lanterns and wooden beds covered with mosquito nets were all perfect ingredients for a very romantic setting. A distant choir of African voices colored the night and we drifted away into a tranquil African dream.

The next day was one I will never forget. After a very informative bush walk and a cool St Louis beer in the funkiest pub in the Kalahari, we embarked on our journey to the pans(affectionately know as the Kalahari Surf Club. We arrived at the brim of Ntetwe Pan where our 4×4 quad bikes were standing ready for us. Every rider was issued a turban that was wrapped around your head to prevent the dust from creeping in. We resembled a Tuareg caravan in the Sahara on our 4×4 ‘camels’ with turbans and all.

Tuareg

Once our wheels hit the boundless salt pans of the Makgadikgadi, the nothingness consumed us bit by bit. We passed quite a few animal carcasses and the mere thought of anything living on these dry salt pans blew my mind. After about two hours of traversing the pan network on quad bikes, we arrived at Room 27. From a distance we saw the first man made structure for miles; a table, six chairs, six bedrolls, a bush basin and a ‘long drop’ a few yards away.

Room 27 is situated somewhere in the middle of Ntetwe Pan, the bigger of the two Makgadikgadi pans. As far as the eye can see, in all directions, there is only white, salty, barren earth. No birdsong or even a mosquito or fly to interrupt the frequency of silence. The only sounds are the ones in your head.

We washed the dirt from our faces and sat down to view the most spectacular sunset ever. There is nothing to break the natural horizon and the perfect round sun seems to be swallowed up by the white earth. Each one of us took a walk into the nothingness and placed ourselves onto the barren earth to be confronted by silence. It was mind blowing.

Our guide prepared a true bush barbeque on a big fire, but the conversation was not the usual ‘braaivleis talk’. It felt as if every word you utter is recorded somewhere in the galaxy of stars above you. Never in my entire life have I experienced the Milky Way reaching from horizon to horizon. What looked like a cloud was in fact a multitude of stars decorating the heavens. The moon reflecting on the white pan illuminated the surroundings and it was so bright that no additional lights were necessary. Our bedrolls were extremely comfortable and warm, making the night under the stars unforgettable. All the voices in my head went to rest, but the sound of silence remained.

We woke up to another spectacular sunrise, with the cool clean air reflecting all the colors of the rainbow. After coffee and muffins we headed back to the brim of the pans where our talented guide treated us to a scenic drive through the bush surrounding the pans. It is difficult to imagine that Makgadikgadi was once an abundant habitat that supported humans and their livestock. It is said that it represents the largest system of pans in the world, but now it is only a relic of what once was one of the biggest inland lakes Africa has ever seen.

Funkiest pub in the Kalahari

After a hot shower we met in the bush pub to debrief. Someone in our party got hold of a baobab fruit and we were told that the white pulp covering the seed is refreshing and nutritious. While sucking on a baobab seed, my mouth recognized the contour. It was the shape of a heart. I couldn’t think of a more appropriate design.

The ghostly arms of the ancient baobab trees waved good-bye and a scene from the Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery crossed my mind.

“Perhaps you will ask me., ‘Why there are no other drawings in this book as magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobab?’ The reply is simple. I have tried. When I made the drawing of the baobab I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity.

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Pattaya, Thailand: Down-to-earth

The rain has finally stopped. As Hannah helps me with my harness, she turns to the stormy sky, smiles and says, “Lucky you. It’s a beautiful weather to skydive.” Indeed it is. Weights of grey clouds hang high in the sky of Pattaya, but the lustrous blue sky behind them are yearning to break through.

Joseph and I have to wait in the common area for the sky to clear up a little more before our turn is up. Nervous hands are rubbing, awkward small talks are exchanged, and an uncertain laughter is echoing in the corner. The air is slightly chilly, yet I can feel heat generated from nervousness emanating from within. People come in and out. Ultimately, we are left alone with this lady and the three of us nod unanimously in silence. “Hi, I’m Kelly,” she introduces herself.

She tells us about herself: a Taiwanese travelling in Thailand with a group of colleagues who are skeptic about her impromptu decision to jump because she is acrophobic. I can feel my eyebrows raise a little. “Yes, I am afraid of heights, but at times in life we have to do things involuntarily, so when I am finally able to make my own decision, I am going to do it despite my fear,” she tells us. I nod in agreement.

Hannah signals to us that it was our turn. It takes twenty minutes to reach the plane and in no time, Joseph and his tandem skydiving instructor are sitting beside Hannah and me at about 12,000 feet up in the air. The clouds are close at hand from the open door and before you know it, both of my legs are dangling on the edge of the door with Hannah strapped to my back. I lean my entire weight on her as we rock back and forth. She raised her fingers in my face, counting down from three to one.

After the first few seconds tumbling out of the plane, we are in our free-fall position in the middle of nowhere and that is when I stop my screaming, completely awed by my bird’s-eye view of the flat earth obscured by a thin layer of cloud mist. A wash of hills and peaks stop themselves abruptly at the endless horizon of the sea under the crisp blue sky. Despite the height, I can see the roofs of houses and buildings speckled themselves like salt and pepper on the olive greenery. I mouth to myself repeatedly, “Beautiful.”

Hannah releases the parachute and I can feel my heart drop. It was over in minutes and she asks if I want to touch the clouds, which was relatively nearer to the sea. There is no reason for rejection to that. I spread my arms out and feel the nip in the air whipping against my skin. This is it, this is why I am here: to thoroughly experience the choice I made.

As soon as we land, we head to the common area and Kelly is nowhere to be seen. A new tandem skydiver approaches us with eyes flickering with uneasiness and asks whether it was frightening. “Yes, it is. But a wise person once told me…” Before I can finish my sentence, I see Kelly waving and jogging toward us. 

About the Author: Justine Wong is an amateur traveler and writer who is currently travelling around Asia. 

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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The Musings of a Backpacker in Australia

The Musings of a Backpacker in Canada

There are many things that I have come to realize throughout the last few months of travels. Things that under normal circumstances, surrounded by familiarity and comforts, one would likely never think about. With everything I need stuffed indecently into my 75 liter backpack – spontaneity is no longer a luxury, but a lifestyle.

It did not take long to become aware of the fact that the life I was living prior to departure carried on despite my absence. Everything continues – people stop at the same red lights, open the same doors, and take the same classes. No matter how egotistical it is, when you leave that behind there is a part of you that assumes life pauses while you roam. Your old life seems frozen in time and space. Or perhaps I imagine that there is a Kayla shaped hole in the wall – my absence physically manifesting in a negative space which everyone must take notice of, step around, and comment on. Life continues whether I am there or not. This is quite the humbling realization. It is not swallowed easily and it is thought about often. There are, however, some incredible benefits that come with taking what you can carry and following an unprecedented path of your own making.

Backpackers learn something early on – necessity demands that the public becomes the private. Without a home, where a door can be closed to the outside world the only option you are left with is to perform private acts in public. Whether clipping toenails on the beach, applying deodorant next to someone in a cafe, or giving yourself a sponge bath in a public washroom- there is no sanctuary to escape to. Your grungy exterior becomes a shield, with the unwashed clothing spilling out of your bag, the dirty hiking boots unceremoniously fastened to the outside, and a headband covering up your unkempt hair – people often avoid looking at you. There is another device in the backpackers tool kit that must be implemented in any act of publicly abandoning your modesty – if you act like what you are doing is normal the average person, so caught up with their own happenings, will skim over your existence with glazed eyes and not even register that you – or that taboo you are committing – is there.

There is something unbelievably freeing about living entirely outside normal life. The people you meet are united by their liminal existence. On the threshold of real life and adventure people can come together and share their time – desperately grasping onto any sense of community that they have so willingly left behind. Pulled in so many directions, with so many options, it has been surrendering myself to the universe, to the signs and omens that pass by, that I have had some of the greatest moments of my life.

Travelers come together in the in between space – the borderlands, the black line on the map that signals the end of one nation and the beginning of another. Roaming without ties, responsibility, and normal social etiquette will quickly make you realize that you can be friends with anyone. The anonymity of travel means that you can be completely genuine because interactions are free from preconceived notions. You are whom you demonstrate, there is no previous knowledge about a person to color an interaction. You show people who you are and in that moment they choose to accept you. It’s that simple.

It’s almost like there are people all over the world who carry a bit of your soul with them and you theirs. You are drawn to each other by some magnetic pull for any duration of time. When you part ways, whether after two hours or two weeks, you return the missing piece of the other person and become more whole as you say goodbye. These people are rare. If you find a connection with someone – that click or piece that just seems to slide so naturally into place – don’t let shyness or fatigue stop you from exploring the possibility. Those people were meant to be in your life, meant to pass on some vital piece of knowledge, or cause you to think about something – creating a ripple affect that may change the course of your life. I have only been traveling for five or so months and I can say without a doubt that I have met at least 6 people who have given back a little piece of me that I was missing. Whether I see those people again or not (let’s hope so) they have contributed to my growth and given me something completely priceless – the knowledge that there are people in the world that truly understand you and that genuinely believe you are worthwhile. Even if they are not near you, they exist even on your darkest days.

It just goes to show that whether you left a few of your pieces at home in the safekeeping of a best friend or you encountered some you didn’t know you were missing, it is the people in your life that you surround yourself with that allow you to be your whole self.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Flamingos in the Atacama Desert of Chile

I knew flamingos were pink and I knew flamingos were big – it wasn’t until viewing them in the wild at Laguna de Chaxa in Reserva Nacional “Los Flamencos”  did I realize what a large and gangly bird they are. Their necks look like a crooked drain pipe. Compared to a blue heron or a Canadian goose, when you actually look up close at a flamingo walking, it’s neck is so oddly bent I wondered if the first one I saw was injured.

I made these up close observations approximately 62 km/ 38 mi from the town of San Pedro de Atacama in the Chilean desert. San Pedro de Atacama is the driest desert region in the world and the surrounding areas have some of the neatest ecosystems on the planet.

For whatever preconceived notions you may have about the world’s driest desert, I found it to be awesome. If you are going to make the effort to get there, you might as well spend at least five days to check out some of the spectacular sites around the area.

We drove to the reserve as the flamingos continued their ongoing feeding of small crustaceans and algae rich in beta carotene giving the birds their well known pink color.

The Reserva Nacional “Los Flamencos” is home to three species of the world’s  flamingos:  the Andean, Chilean and James flamingo.

Flamingos are social birds and colonies can be in the thousands. Males and females form strong bonds for mating and usually the female will choose a suitable spot in the mud flat to build a nest.

The birds will submerge their heads and stomp their feet while turning an entire 360 degrees. In doing so they stir up lots of crustaceans rich in beta carotene to eat and their beaks are specially adapted to separate mud and silt from their food. While feeding their tongue pumps up and down 5-6 times a second pushing water out their beaks.

With their pronounced beaks, the Andean Avocet feed near the flamingos. They forage in shallow waters gliding their beaks back and forth across the water looking for smalls insects and crustaceans.

After the flamingo reserve, we drove to Lagunas Miscanti y Meniques. In all my time driving around South America, this route right here was one of my all time favorites. I don’t know if color has ever moved me so much in a drive – it was just out of this world.

The bright yellow formed the illusion it was a solid blanket of yellow and not little individual tuffs of grass.

The color only got richer the higher we went in elevation. As we were ascending our driver told us he would have to turn off the air conditioning. In the past when he was driving up the rugged mountain roads the car over heated, so from then on, the AC had to go off when driving these hard roads.

We were so lucky the day we went to get such crisp mountain views. Had it been cloudy, I would have paid the tour fee as many times as needed till I could have captured this image.

Our journey to the Lagunas Altiplanicas region was one of the highlights of my time in Chile. The richness of the color painted a lasting impression in my mind. I would hope for anyone to go and be able to have such an image created in their own head – it rivals the Mona Lisa.

*     *     *

If you go:

There are tons of tour operators in San Pedro. Have a look around and find one your feel comfortable with. We went with ‘You Know Chile’ and booked a package bundle. Over the course of three days we went on three different, almost full day tours of the area. This was a cheaper and easy way to get out to these remote areas.

If you can, book ahead for lodging. Lodging prices are crazy inflated and you will end up paying a lot or walking around a lot to find a solid budget option. We stayed at Hostal Jama Jama for $20,000 sole pp.

 

 

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PRAMBANAN TEMPLE COMPOUNDS: IN HUMBLE DEFENSE TO HINDUISM

Prambanan temple compounds came in as one of the first world heritage sites of Indonesia in 1991. This site was inscribed under two criteria: as a masterpiece of human creative genius, and as an outstanding example of an architectural ensemble that represents a significant stage in human history (i.e., spread of Hinduism in the East). It happens to be the biggest and most extensive Hindu religious site in the predominantly Islamic country.

The first glimpse of Prambanan. I enjoyed the fact that it has a wide open yard.

How is Prambanan assessed?

On one hand, Prambanan may look quite similar to Angkor Wat. True enough, they are both intended as Hindu temples, and that both follow the pointed South Indian Dravidian styles. In closer inspection, however, Prambanan reveals itself as a totally different architectural masterpiece that is unique in its own way. In fact, Prambanan was built over 300 years earlier (9th century vs. 12th century).  On the other hand, Prambanan still faces yet another challenge as it is often overshadowed by its more famous neighbor Borobudur. Nevertheless, in ancient times, the former might have looked far more impressive in terms of lay-out, scale of construction, and even its setting as the construction of Prambanan is to be seen as a response of the Hindu Sanjaya Dynasty to the Buddhist Sailendra Dynasty‘s Borobudur.

Often really crowded throughout the day, I visited Prambanan late in the afternoon when most of the tourists have already left  (it turned out later on to be an uncalculated risk as it rained some few minutes after!). One thing that I noticed immediately upon entering the gate is its vast, well-manicured yard. Not far from there, and I started seeing the magnitude of the damages this site had to endure: endless — and now meaningless — piles of rubble scattered everywhere.

View of the smaller temples housing the vessels of the Trimurti. Shot taken just before it started raining.

The Prambanan temple complex — or what remains of it — is pretty small and easy explore. It has to be understood that temples currently standing in the compound hardly make up 15% of what used to be there. Originally, more than 240 temples comprise the compound  yet only a handful remains today. Below is a photo showing the model of the compound’s original composition – thanks to Wiki! Several centuries of earthquakes (the last strong one being the May 2006 shake) and bouts of volcanic eruptions by Merapi further added damages to the already abandoned and neglected royal religious site since the early 10th century – yes, the temple was relatively short lived as an active place of worship.

A model of the Prambanan Temple Compounds (photo courtesy: Wikipedia)

Its central main towers are almost total reconstructions via anastylosis. Nevertheless, strict measures are still being observed such as prohibiting public access to the towers’ interiors. The management body no longer plans to reconstruct all of the temples – the tons of rubble are there to act as a reminder of the site’s painful history in confronting the destructive forces of nature. Moreover, some stones are already missing as locals used them in building their houses nearby, rendering massive rehabilitation a definite impossibility.

Ruins of the peripheral temples. There were about 220 of these minor shrines before.

It being a Trimurti site, Prambanan is dedicated to the highest three Hindu gods: Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. The commanding 47-metre high Shiva temple (or Loro Jonggrang), the largest in the area, lies at the center. Here, a local myth is also highly intertwined with Prambanan: Loro Jonggrang is a legendary Javanese princess, and it is believed that she is depicted in a statue inside the Shiva temple; hence, the Shiva temple is often referred to by locals as Loro Jonggrang temple as well. This legend is worth knowing when visiting this temple.

The carvings and reliefs in the temples are quite different from those that I have seen in Angkor, though both depict Hindu characters,icons, and stories. I can say that the images and artworks there are more “pure” in the Hindu sense of the word; in contrast, Angkorian art is made in the image of the Khmers.

Carvings depicting Hindu celestial nymphs in the exteriors of Loro Jonggrang, the central temple in Prambanan.

Prambanan never failed to enchant me. Despite only having a little less than an hour in seeing this site (thanks to the rain!), it definitely left a lasting impression on me: the temple compound is really simple  and it may not even boast much given the state it is in right now  but it never fails to assert its right as a ‘classic’ monument the world will forever be proud of.

Last man out. Guards patiently waited for us before they called it a day. I think they understood I was on a mission.

On a separate day, I also went to  the nearby ruins of the 8th-century Ratu Boko palace. Actually, it happens to be on the tentative list of Indonesia for a possible inclusion to the WHS list, too! Ratu Boko palace — oh, I’ll be writing a separate note for this site as it deserves one of its own — is nestled in the Boko Hills, some 3km from Prambanan temple compounds. Given its altitude of 196 metres, the site offers a commanding view of the Prambanan plains and townscape with the Merapi as the background. In the evening, the beautifully glittering Prambanan temple dominates the skyline, subtly suggesting that it is there to stay and that it will never be forgotten again.

Prambanan fields as seen from Ratu Boko Palace ruins. Prambanan temple compounds shine like gold, dominating the view.

The post PRAMBANAN TEMPLE COMPOUNDS: IN HUMBLE DEFENSE TO HINDUISM appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Heroes Take Flight in the USA

Break Me

Push Me

I’d love to see you try

We may fall

But we can get back up

We can be pushed alongside the edge

But we can watch our steps

We can endure Hell

And still have a Smirk on our face

We are the fallen, We are the beaten

We are the abused

But with every mistake; Comes a lesson

With every moment; Experience gained

With this beating heart in my chest

With this fire running through my veins

I have been given valor

I have become a warrior

To give up; A contradiction

To what I claim; To be; What we are

Heroes, Titans, Avengers if you may

Of the night or of the day

Neverending I would say

We were built to last

We were given life and love

Never back down, Stand your ground

Be the one that takes the chance

Be the one to make the move

Be him her or them

You can do it

I believe in you

There’s a light in you

I can see it bright; Never dimmer

It wants you to spread your wings

And fly into the night

To be the person you were meant to me

A hero; A savior

To help, aid, and make others see

What they two can be

Be an inspiration; Fly to your wildest dreams

Dream to achieve

No one can tell you what you can or cannot be

All you need is is Belief

That belief becomes a spark that ignites

Ignites in your heart and send bolts through your veins

A rush you your head; To your brain

Turns to determination which gives you strength

And that majestic feeling

That pulse you are feeling

Is the hero in you

Is the soul of a lover in you

Let your creativity wander

Your intensity no one shall squander

I don’t believe it; I know it

I don’t think it; I feel it

And If I can; You can too

The light in you is the light in me

And in them

The truth is spoken

By the bold and glorious

No regrets; For we do what we can

We try with all our might

So that we and them and you

Can be something more

Something more than the ones who gave up when the storm got loud

When the lightning was all around

We stood our ground

For a chance to leave a mark

In this life, On this path

In this journey I have seen and loved

Never taken for granted

The moment and the chance

To make a difference

To clear the slate

Mistakes are better when you let them go

You live to learn

You are not defeated

This is your chance

To proclaim this night

And do what is right

To make your name mean something

What you want it to mean to you

You are a leader, a hero

You are that, and so much more

I see it in your eyes

And that is something you can not deny

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

 

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