Borobudur

It’s truly a special feeling to write about a past journey from ten years ago, I’m overjoyed to relive moments that seemed to remain dormant in some quiet corner of my memory, yet curious to see how my perspective on travel, and on journey themselves, has changed after all these years.

Back in 2015, when I was 23 and had just graduated, I thought of myself as a free bird. Since I was already living away from home, traveling felt simply like a temporary change of place to eat and sleep. Yet at the same time, I was bound by another limit: the number of annual leave days. Within a year, I had to carefully plan enough trips home with long enough stays, making sure I was there for Christmas or Tet. This inevitably shrank the time dedicated for traveling, and in such situation, public holidays and long weekends were the saviors: they’re rare chances for me to switch ‘mode’, and that’s how in 2015 I came up with such notion of ‘free as a bird’ to describe those fleeting trips, flying off and back again within just a day or two.

And there’s a big difference: back then I set aside a budget for traveling, and having a girlfriend wasn’t part of the year’s plan, but now because I haven’t had a girlfriend that I travel. A past full of eagerness and excitement before each journey, and a present where the thought of traveling comes with some certain reluctance.

The Borobudur trip was my shortest journey ever, lasting only a single day. By some stroke of luck, this trip happened to coincide with Singapore’s general election that year, which turned it into a long weekend.

I flew from Changi to Adisucipto Airport in Yogyakarta on a Saturday noon, skipped any rest and went straight by taxi to Borobudur, returned to the guesthouse in the evening, slept, had breakfast and flew back to Singapore right in the next morning. Even I didn’t manage to have a proper lunch or dinner. I had brought along just one packet of beef instant noodles and asked the host for some hot water - that’s enough for my culinary experience.

It took about one hour by taxi from the airport to Borobudur, the road was fairly narrow, but at least it’s still better than the one on my Bali trip. Now, in 2025 with the new Yogyakarta International Airport located far from the city center, a one-day trip like that would probably not be realizable.

As you climb up the steps and slip behind the stone stupas, it feels almost like playing hide-and-seek in a maze. The higher you go, the broader the view that reveals the lush coconut groves stretching into the distance.

At that time, the only thing I focused on capturing was the scenery, with less than a year of photography experience and just a cheap kit lens, I still hadn’t mastered exposure, shutter speed or aperture, thus the result photos weren’t anything remarkable. Picking one or two ‘keeper’ shots was all too easy from a small album of barely a hundred, each one more or less the same.

But anyway, Borobudur was the first place I felt the golden hues of sunset truly came alive in my photos.

On the way out, I had to pass through a souvenir market where vendors relentlessly hassled tourists. Unlike the trip there, it’s very hard to find a taxi back to the city in the late evening. I ended up walking out to the main road with a hope to catch any ride, and luckily, a school bus picked me up and took me all the way back to the city (after I had double- and triple-checked it wouldn’t be heading to Magelang). This has remained an unforgettable memory for me - standing on the bus with the students, exchanging simple English words with those just learning, and trusting that the ride would indeed reach its destination. As I exited the bus, I gave the kids a 2 SGD note as a keepsake for this serendipitous encounter.

I hailed a motorbike ride back to the guesthouse that evening, made myself the packet of instant noodles I’d bought from home, rested, and the next morning enjoyed a modest breakfast from the host with sandwiches and strawberry jam, and just like that, the trip came to an end. I returned to Singapore in the days when haze from Indonesia’s palm forest fires still hung thick in the air, back to the MRT ride routines programmed into each morning and evening from Tiong Bahru to One North, gazing off into the distance whenever I stood waiting for the train.

P.S. I realize that every time I lift my feet to head back to the hotel, when the sun has already set and the crowds have thinned, I quietly remind myself, ‘Alright, time to go.’.