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    was our second stop in Central Java in Indonesia, after (following) Yogyakarta. We arrived to Borobudur in the afternoon, with a crowded bus, as always. Afternoon tropical downpour chose its routine fifteen minutes exactly at the moment when we were getting off the bus. A thirty meter sprint through a watter wall with heavy bags on our backs to the nearest stall with food. Actually, to the the large tent supported with poles,covered with a flat canvas roof, underneath there was a series of small restaurants. Well, in fact small Asian buffets.
   Just something small to eat and we begun to question the way to the worldfamous glorification of the Buddha, his lapidary biography, to Borobudur, the buddhistic temple complex, the construction on the top of the hill, the five square terraces one above the other and the three circular terraces at the top decorated with a bellshaped temple in the center, surrounded by bellshaped spires (stupas). Built between the years 750 and 850 AD, abandoned around 1000, has been gradually renewed since 1907. This is what the omniscient, impeccant Wikipedia says(http://cs.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borobudur), the younger sister of the famous Alexandria Library. Indeed, which of the monuments all around southeast Asia does not celebrate Buddha.
    No one of the little men waiting for their chance reveal us the way there, however, all of them were willing to introduce us there in their rickshaws. We finally get into a two-seats rickshaw,its owner covered us with a plastic considerately, so that we would not get wet, or may could not disclose the way there to our compatriots and in a while we were at a hotel situated nearly next to the sacral complex. We scheduled our visit for next day, at its break when they open the area. We were excited like little kids.
    We preferably didn’t bother with the quality of the hotel, nevertheless, we hadn’t been looking for Hilton. The enthusiasm about getting in Borobudur increased the hotel rating by three stars at least. The accommodation really standed in need of that, so it grew finaly in, let’s say, a two-star hotel.
    Towards evening, when sunset approached, we realized how peaceful is the place, the wonderful air after the rain, such a home coziness which encourages you to stay a few days more. Just a light supper and we literally spraweled in tiny chairs of a petit restaurant next to the hotel. It was getting dark, the smell of the wild jungle, the rain, condiments from the resturant and the aroma of spicy clove cigarettes named Sampoerna, which we lighted up hedonisticaly, went throughout our bodies with every single breath.
   The whole existing life was concentrated in this one and only moment and with every other second our assessed time was extending up to several weeks. Our senses captured in this unique moment, however, never stopped being aware of the immensity of all the world around. We stopped being a mere dust speck of a great big world, the whole big world spined round into our bowel (bosom) and become part of us. Â
   This feeling accompanied us then and came round each time in the course of our travelling, when our soles standed still looking around and genius loci of each of those places went into us with a deep aspiration. Eyes irradiated, mouth stretched into kind of stupid smile and there was not anything else needed. Just stop the time, perhaps.
   Unfortunately, we had to get up quite early, at about five o’clock, so that the sunrise would find us already on the stone path to the first stage of Borobudur. Even if we would have loved to stay longer, we had to leave the night concert of crickets and other residents of equatorial jungle and headed for the hotel to sleep. At night, we got pretty scared from a rumble and steps bellow the room window,as our room was on the ground floor facing the jungle. However, no one stole us and in the morning we could make for the next point of our journey.
    The sun was rising behind a veil of fog and I started to worry whether there would ever be chance to take photos. The admission of $ 3 per person and we we got inside the area.Â
     The hill, build up with fine worked stone, was slowly waking up from the silence and mist. Solar rays were steadily finding their way among palms and tourists around were in silence or spoke quietly. Stone artifacts were gathering contrasts and fresh, maybe even a cold morning switched into warm summer day which found us in the half way to the top, that to say in the second stage of the shrine. The top of the sacred place welcomed us with the sun in its full intensity.
    Then we understood why it was good to start the visit as early as at dawn. Borobudur is a build up hill, hidden in jungle and vegetation for many centuries. The circumference of its five floors alltogether makes at about five kilometers. On the side of this ‘little pyramid’ there is the stairway leading through the gates on each floor up to the top. Following up the stairs directly to the top would be just a few steps, actually. However, the purpose of your visit would disappear then. Each floor terrace, throughout the circumference, on both sides, is decorated with stone bas-reliefs, describing Buddha’s biography. A ten kilometres long stone book. One precise stone bas-relief following another. The details are gorgeous.
   Of course we were very interested in Budha’s biography, but on the second floor, however, with the arrival of the hot summer day, the reading started to dried us up slightly. Nevertheless, we walked all around the five floors honestly, so that we would deserve a little bit the Satori which might have been waiting for us upstairs. Bigness and quantity of stone bells (stúpa) on the top overwhelmed us. The smaller bells around were five meters high, they were hollow and originally there was statue of seating Buddha under each of them.
   Suddenly a group of girls-students surrounded us and in a moment they started to babble in English. It was a school excursion aimed among others on practicing English conversation with foreign visitors. At that time, there was not much they could learn from us, rather on the contrary. After a while, we had to relieve ourselves to could alt least absorb the power, majesty and peace of the place.
    A hot air, which slowly began to climb the sides of the stone Buddha library, made us to descend afterall.
   The closing part, the way from the foothill down to the restaurants among palm trees, turned unfortunately into a discreditable dash for toilets. Fried eggs for breakfast just was not a good idea. Wherever is hot, don’t take fried eggs. In our case, it has never turned out well, but we were incorrigible. Group of Koreans, however, was faster and they twisted themselves systematicaly into tiny toalets. The toilets were really small regarding the number of Koreans who disappeared inside. Desperate searching for another toilet, increasing pressure throughout our bodies. This time it turned out relatively well. When we cleared up who is all to be blamed and our mood returned to the same level as it was in the morning we set out for an opposite part of the area.
   On the ground, in long rows, there were aligned various stone pieces which remained after the Borobudur reconstruction. We did not notice, however, that there would be anything missing in the top.
   In the afternoon, we even walked Borobudur’s surrounding slowly, took a lift in a small lovely rulley-tractor driven by a local nice old man, peeped into interior of several little temples. The eagerness to get know new thinks ultimately overdominated the long just stay at the amazing place couple of days nestling in the clouds of clove cigarettes, we recollect our bags and ...
Fidle dedee to Prambanan through Yogyakarta again.
Cinky-linky-link, tingle, tangle, faerie bell ringed and fairy tale is over.
Tomas,
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translated by Eva
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