I was in the car for hours and hours and hours. The trip didn’t seem to end. My driver got his 5-year-old boy to join the journey and probably blocked out the fact that it was only me in the car, who couldn’t speak Indonesian fluently. Seemed fair.
The road to our hotel in Java seemed like the pathway to hell. It was dark, foggy and there was no electricity in the villages that we passed. The houses were either abandoned or inhabited by hooded people who carried around candles.
Alright. I was in a horror movie!