Jogjakarta : Plaza Ambarrukmo

“So, where's dinner?” We asked Eny.

“Plaza Ambarrukmo…”

Wow…eating in plaza…we never thought of that. But with Mama and Abah around, we have to expect that. Hahaha! We went back to the hotel and did whatever needed. While waiting for others, Eny had a quick conversation with me and Mama. She told us that her brother came to look for her last night coz Haikal cried the whole evening. Her brother came to Jalan Malioboro and walked through the busiest shopping lane LOOKING for her, like…what on earth was he thinking? He expects to bump into Eny along the way? We asked Eny why her brother didn’t come to hotel and asked for her, Eny then said that her brother came in “sarung” so the hotel wouldn’t allow that, especially exclusive hotels. There are “darjat” sentiment here, she said. Fine, I didn’t blame the hotel, I didn’t blame her brother either, I blamed Eny and Ridz who should take care of the arrangement properly.

We then jumped into the car and Ridz drove us around, looking for Plaza Ambarukmo (click link to view), which we thought just few minutes away. But it was located somewhere outside the city, near the Adisucipto International Airport! We finally reached one big buildings with fully occupied parking lots, and that was Plaza Ambarrukmo, one of the largest shopping complex in Jogjakarta.

“We came this far, just to eat in Carrefour?” I whispered to hubby.

I didn’t judge, but whoever comes to this place MUST have his/her own transport and ka-ching. We were quite late and the place was about to close, so Eny and Ridz didn’t get the chance to do any shopping. Well, they did purchase two towels…pfft...like there’s no towel in Malaysia. Hahaha!

Off to the Tamansari Foodcourt, we went. The ambiance was very earsplitting coz they had performers who singing in the middle of the foodcourt. Though they sang good, I was pretty sure that everyone in the area need to scream to speak. Coz we did! I saw some uneasiness on Mama’s face, but we continued to order while Abah and her waited at the table. We got ourselves a plate of rice, each, with different side dishes. I almost laughed in tears when I saw Mama's face when she looked at the chicken feet! Priceless! Well, the price was affordable but no, ah-ah, hubby paid for my food. The food was ok, but the drinks were awesome!

We called of the night and went back to Inna Garuda. The next morning, we packed our bags and headed to Solo, for Adi Sumarmo International Airport. The drama continued when Eny's brother unable to send us off to the airport, and we had to hire a cab, to direct us to the airport. Adding to the chaos, the traffic was bad, as bad as when we came few days back. On the way, we had a glimpse of Mount Merapi, that we failed to see few days before. We finally reached the airport and checked-in. Right after Eny and Ridz parked the car, they later came in and told us that they had to pay some amount of money, just to get into the hall. Huh? Antar orang pun kena bayo? But no worries, Abah paid for it, no worries. *Rolling eyes* Dah…balik, balik!

Jogjakarta : Jalan Malioboro

We woke up the next day and getting ready for some shopping. Not me, it was Abah and Mama…and Eny. Pfft! Beforehand, we had our breakfast at the dining area. The food was far better than Cangkringan Villa. While waiting for Eny and Ridz to come and pick us up, I told hubby that I wanted to go to Jalan Malioboro, but hubby wasn’t in the mood to go out due to nature’s call. I wanted to get a t-shirt or blouse, to be worn the next day.

And so I walked out from the hotel and once I passed the gate, locals who with “beca” and “ojek” and you name it, started to persuade and bargain with me. I rejected nicely and crossed the road. Well, Jalan Malioboro is just across the street lah! I then spent almost 15 minutes before I went back to the hotel with nothing in my hands. I seriously cannot tahan la, so hot. CHEWAH! Belagak gile!

No lah. I was afraid that they gonna leave me.

Later, Eny and Ridz came and suggested to Abah and Mama to rent two horse carts, to move around town. I was like…“WHAT?? Does he know how much it’s going to cost us?” I whispered to hubby’s face.

“Just follow what they plan.” Hubby consoled me.

“But I ain’t gonna pay him, no, ah-ah.” I did the black style.

Assuming Abah gonna pay for both carts, Eny started bargaining. She finally came up with a price of Rupiah120,000 = RM36, for one cart. Come on, we paid RM7 for one “beca” before. That’s your local price? Pfft! Hahaha!

Abah accepted. Fine. Hubby and I rode with Mama, Eny, Putri and Haikal, while Abah, Wan and Ridz in the other cart. The plan was to go around town, Taman Sari, Kraton, “dagadu/kaos” shop, “batik” shop, and few other places.

Hubby and I looked at each other and said “Ready to be ripped off? Hahaha!”

Well, we knew that this horse cart people will DEFINITELY, WITHOUT DOUBT, bring us to those ridiculous expensive shops. Trust me, or I’ll cut my finger! And guess what? The first “batik” shop that they brought us was one unit of bungalow stated “Rumah Batik something something” I couldn’t remember. When a shop has sofas/seaters, it must be expensive. Ok?

Wan, Hubby, and I waited outside, while Mama, Abah, Eny and Ridz went inside. I had no intention to get something for myself either. Hubby and I took Putri and walked towards those two horses and watched the master feeding them. “Dedak” (the food) was mixed up with water that turned out to be like porridge and smelled funny. While eating, one of the horses kept on peeing and pooping, and hell no, it was drastically hasty and nasty! Hahaha!

Almost an hour, Mama and Abah still in the so-called boutique. Omg, habis la kena kerat leher. I went in and checked out what’s going on. I saw Mama and Abah sat down with loads of “batik” around them. The helper kept on spreading after one and another and that made Mama lost her mind. While Mama lost her mind choosing what she wanted Abah to wear, Abah was more practical to choose what he wanted to have. Hahaha!

But…why…Eny’s picking up two colors? Hmmm…

I walked around the shop and looked around. None fancied me. Then I saw Mama and Abah finally came out from one of the room and walked to the counter. And I saw Eny’s clothes as well! Niceeeeeeee!

All of us walked out from the shop, where one uncle in “kopiah” (head cover for man) stopped us. He showed Abah the Jogja-style “kopiah” and out of nowhere, Abah asked his three sons to pick one each! Zzzzz…hubby is not the type of wearing that kind of “kopiah” but he, anyhow, picked one. (And he didn’t wear it till date. Hahaha!)

The horse carts then brought us to another shop that sells t-shirts, or famously known as “dagadu” or “kaos” in Jogja. Everyone knows that Jogja like to be different and they like to create funny statements or drawings. To my surprise, that was the shop that we stopped back in 2008! Hubby and I laughed like hell and told Wan, this shop can cost you a bomb for a t-shirt!

As expected, that was “not” Mama and Abah's playground. So we hopped back and continued riding, where we stopped at one “batik” warehouse. Ok. All of us were not in the mood to see all these and we decided to pass the show. Mannnnnn…how did I get into this kind of trap?! Hahaha!

We then passed by Taman Sari and Kraton and headed back to Jalan Malioboro. I was shocked!

“Huh? Is that all?? Where’s Taman Sari?? Where’s Kraton??” Like I never been there lah kan!

“We passed by those places just now, don’t you see it?” Hubby twisted the fact, which I 100% remembered that we SUPPOSED to stop at those two places, as per AGREED earlier.

Even worst, Rupiah120,000 was charged ONLY to go to that batik shop and warehouse? Kena tipu la lu labu. Hahaha! Well, I reserved my comment, and smiled.

Back in Jalan Malioboro, Mama and Abah went into another batik shop. I accompanied them while hubby busy taking photos along the road. What was the price range in this shop? Well, with Dato-sofa-type with tea served at the waiting area, you know how much it would cost you! I waited and waited, flipping the batik albums, while peeping at Abah who followed Mama that almost drowning under those rolls and rolls of batik. Hahaha!

Eny then came in and browsed batik blouses at railings. She tried and chose two (if I’m not wrongly exaggerated) while I FORCED myself to pick one. I might have gone crazy for choosing one batik blouse that I am OBVIOUSLY confident that I won’t be wearing it! BATIK JAWA SOMEMORE! Hahaha! Fine...I paid...on my own. 

Later...I heard Abah asked Mama to pay for Eny’s. Ah…I missed the flight, AGAIN! Hahaha!

 

Sydney : Snow In Spring

Live Update!

Blue Mountain is snowing, HEAVILY! Can you guys imagine that? SNOW IN SPRING? Be surprise coz the locals do. No one expected this!

Picture from Blue Mountain Fanpage

Absolutely RIDICULOUS!

The main road is closed and not to be opened until tomorrow morning. We were stuck in the baddest traffic ever, and we were JUST 20 minutes away from the Blue Mountain. If we were to head up, we might not be able to coming down.

Picture from Blue Mountain Fanpage

 

There goes our Katoomba Hotel. There goes our outnumbered scenic lookouts. There goes the Three Sisters. The goes the Blue Mountain!

I shall now TEAR OFF ALL THE PRINTED MAPS! So long...

AND...

IT'S FREAKING COLD IN SYDNEY!

-Biqque-

Via free Internet opposite Randwick Lodge that cost us AUD90 for a basement room!

Updated!

Blue Mountain, before and after. It happened for one day. Believe it or not? Believe it!

Picture from Blue Mountain Fanpage

P/S: Wait till I post my Sydney Trip!

Jogjakarta : Warung Makan Cak Koting Bu Meti

We decided to put our feet up before anything else. I rearranged the bed, took a shower, and watched TV. Ridz and Eny wanted to go back to Eny’s house since they left Haikal with Eny’s mom, but Mama disallowed them to go back, for they will be coming back to have dinner with us. So why bother go back and forth, moreover, knowing that yesterday they lost on the way back. Eny then came to our room to perform prayer and had a quick conversation with me. To my surprise, she performed her prayer with make-up on. Hmm…was that ok, anyone? Ok, I’m confused.

Since hubby and I wanted to try “lesehan”, which we didn’t have the chance back in 2008, Ridz decided to take us to one. But knowing Mama, she will DEFINITELY REJECTED this style. You have my 200 percent guarantee that she will NEVER EVER eat at “kaki lima” with flies and mosquitoes and cockroaches and rats, you name it, which at any seconds will show up. Hahaha! Well, hubby inherited that manner, but still, at acceptable degree.

“So, how to go there?” Abah asked Ridz.

“By cab…we take two cabs.” Eny suggested. She pulled over one cab, asked Wan, Abah, and Ridz to go first. She then called another cab, for whoever left, Eny, Mama, hubby, and I.

Who knows that the place was quite far from Malioboro! Argh! Lapar!

The one that Eny and Ridz brought us was the high end “lesehan”, with more or less the same style, but better approach. They provided normal tables and chairs. (Lesehan need you to sit on the floor, similar to Japanese style.) Warung Makan Cak Koting is a popular eating place in Jalan Dr. Sutomo that offers none other than noted Jogja dish, fried/grilled duck, or known as “bebek goreng”. Unlike other typical “lesehan” that open only at night, this restaurant opens from 10.00am till 11.00pm.

Since none of us eat duck (except for Eny), we ordered ‘lele goreng” (fried catfish). While waiting for the food to be served, I was called to the front side of the restaurant, where two ladies in rolled up sleeves, apron and head scarf, dok baek punya gelek. One hand at the back, while the other hand…minced huge amount of chilies! Adding to this, they put tomatoes, onions, garlics, tumeric paste, and a pinch of sugar and salt. WOW! An original “sambal goreng” I assumed.

They did this routine NON-STOP, filling the small bowls before handed them to waitresses. I stood right in front of them for almost 10 minutes, went back to our table, took a camera, walked back to those ladies, and captured the scene.

“Dari Malaysia ya mbak?” One of the ladies asked me whether I am Malaysian.

“Ya…” I quickly called Putri, asked her to stand next to me as bait, in case they want to shove me off. Hahaha!

Then the food came. A small portion of rice, “ayam dara goreng”, green veges, “sambal goreng’, and…

“What on earth is that?” Mama looked at two small melamine plates.

Pieces of cow lungs. Half grilled.

“Who ordered this?” She continued.

“Abah ordered this…” Ridz interrupted. Abah just smiled at Mama.

“Eeiiii, Abah always like this tau…you really want to eat this ke?” Mama gave a creepy face.

Guess what? Abah tried one, two, probably three tiny pieces of it, where he eventually forced Ridz and ME, to finish it! ME?? WHY ME?? Ok, I eat internal parts, but this one looked quite bizarre! Fine…a good menantu (daughter in law) will do what a good menantu suppose to do. Hahaha! I did try to eat it, not so funny taste la. Eatable but not finger licking good. Can try, but not to finish it. Ala, you guys try la later!

We then went back to the hotel and decided to have a quick shopping at Malioboro Street. I didn’t know where we got the energy to walk from one end to the other end of the street, with super packed crowds, and the smell of “keretek” Gudang Garam! Omg, with that kind of cigarettes, you gonna kill yourself! The smell was soooo bad! I knew that Mama cannot stand that smell, but she was following Eny from the back, and hell yeah, Eny walked like Speedy Gonzales! We lost her once! Abah, Wan, hubby and I finally stopped at one place and waited for them to come back.

While waiting, Putri and I sat nearby the horse-carts. They kept on offering us but we didn’t bother to ride on. I tell you, expensive! I then, got myself a piece of blouse that I paid on my own. (Wah, bayar sendiri tau!) Eny then came back with Mama and Ridz, and I saw them having plastic bags on both hands. Kaboom! Eny told me that it was cheap but when I asked her the price, I swear that I can get cheaper than that! Hahaha! How la local also got that price…

Abah and Mama then decided to go back to hotel, Eny and Ridz went back to Eny’s house, while Wan, hubby and I, decided to have a REAL “lesehan”. At this time, Putri had a huge dilemma, to choose, who she wanted to be with. Grandpa, or Papa. She had to choose Papa, by force. Yeah, she cried coz she had to leave her boyfriend Grandpa.

When Abah and Mama ordered room service, we, opted for fast food. We went to KFC but the service sucked! We went to McD, but the queue was too long. We had no choice but to join the queue and get some food for tonight. After got our to-go food, we stopped at one “lesehan” (they are MANY “lesehan” along Malioboro street). We ordered “teh botol” Sosro (bottled jasmine tea) and chit-chat, before two “ngamen” (street singer) came and entertained us. I knew some song but some not, so I didn’t donate. Hehehe. No la. He left before we finished our drinks. Not our fault. Peace!

Jogjakarta : Inna Garuda Hotel

We left the hotel and drove to the heart of Jogjakarta, where we were caught in a really bad traffic. I still can’t figure out why Ridz wanted a hotel right in the middle of the most touristic road, Jalan Malioboro.

“Ok, I can accept that he doesn’t want to trouble Mama and Abah but...sigh…fine, I’m not going to interfere…well, it’s their trip, not mine.” I told hubby.

We went to Ibis Hotel and stopped by to ask whether is there any available room, but luck wasn’t on our side. I wasn’t sure why, but most of the hotels were fully occupied. Maybe there’s something going on that I wasn’t aware of.

As predicted, Ridz drove us to a classic but modern elegance hotel, Inna Garuda (click link to view). It is located right on Malioboro street. This hotel had been changed six times! It was the built by Dutch colonial and it was their intention to make it as the most luxurious hotel in Jogjakarta. Then came the Japanese, where they changed the hotel name, which later, Indonesia declared their freedom, and changed it back. Not long after, Dutch came back and took over, but Indonesian government got the authority to give a new name. Then PT. Natour was given a trust to manage the hotel, changed the name, which later, merged with PT. Hotel Indonesia and finally came up with Inna Garuda. Fiuh! What’s the fuss of changing the name, guys??

Entering the driveway of this almost 100 years hotel had made me some kind of wealthy peps. We parked the car and entered the lobby, where Ridz and Abah settled the registration. Koyak la poket orang tua tu. Meanwhile, we sat on the wooden teak seating where the bell boy handed in some sweets for Putri and welcome drinks for us. The inner decoration was more or less like a presidential office with huge chandeliers, high ceiling and carved walls. The porters then carried our bags and sent them over to our rooms.

Before he opened the door, I saw one huge room with clear glasses on both side of the door, opposite our room. It was a suite with common area! Omg! Will I get a suite as well? I prayed hard fefeeling retis gitu.

But not hard enough coz I got twin beds in my room. Pfft!

“I am sooooo gonna attach these two beds!” I stomped my feet.

Like other hotels, the hotel facilities looked much more the same. From convention room, lounge, coffee house, spa, swimming pool, where they named these places with famous people as well as tourist hotspots in Indonesia.

“Abah, wanna try some foot massage downstairs?” Ridz suggested.

“Sure…” Abah nodded.

Ok, dengki. I always wanted to have a spa treatment in Indonesia but hubby and I always have no time for it. Plus, we rather spend our penny for exploring places. So, I asked Mama whether she wants to try or not, but Mama declined. Ok, tak perlu dengki. Let’s go jalan-jalan. Hahaha!

Jogjakarta : Plosorejo Village

We then went back to villa to refresh ourselves, before we drove to Eny’s parent’s house. Good to have all locations nearby, huh? We just drove around the village, easy! On the way to her mom’s house, I saw lots of poor-built houses. A rectangular plaited mats as four-walls, with no flooring, and no rooms? I wasn’t sure, to call it a house or not. Reban kah? Eny said that these houses were donated/built by the government, as a temporary living quarters, before they were given a new house. Initially, yes. But now, why they still live in it? The government aren’t kidding right? It was already 2 years since the eruption. Corruption kah?

Good enough that Eny’s parents have money to rebuild their house. It is their heredity that whenever the kids got married, the house will be divided and parent’s area will become smaller. So, the more kids you own, the smaller area you’ll have. Unless, you widen the house lah. We parked the car at her sister’s house. Later, she showed us the damages where the lava made a huge aisle next to her sister’s house. The most damaged part was the wall, where it peeled off like your black cracked night masker. They had to wash the floor hundred times, to clear the ashes. That was even better than her other sister’s house that had no wall at all. Gone case.

Walking towards the house with mini jungle around us had mesmerized me much. I saw HUGE bamboo trees that almost as big as my hip! Even bigger than what I saw in Bamboo Groves in Arashiyama, Japan. And they were super TALL! Mama and Abah laughed out loud when they saw this foolish daughter in law who almost hugged and cursed yelled how big the bamboos were. Well, I purposely created the scene la. Bosan kot. Hahaha!

We then entered the house. No sofa...but got tiles. Sitting next to me were fat and old-fashioned TV, and newly bought rice cooker. There was a single-size mattress as well. *Krik krik* The wall was made with bricks and volcano soil, that made the house a bit colder. Before the eruption, Eny told that the floor was 100% black soil, but now, they installed tiles at the living hall. The windows were also nicely built.

We sat on the floor and started to smile at each other. I looked at Mama, Mama looked at Wan, Wan looked at hubby, hubby looked at Abah, Abah looked at Eny’s dad, Eny’s dad look outside. Eny’s mom? She spoke something with non-stop laughing. I swear to God, we didn’t know what to say and how to communicate. Eny told us that her parents speak Java, but we know no Java. We know bit of Indo sinetron-slang but we had no idea whether they understand or not. At the end, Eny was the one who translated the whole conversation to both sides. The funny part was, the joke was made, but the laughter delayed few seconds later. Hell no, we didn’t laugh for the joke coz we did’t get what the joke was about! We laughed looking at Eny’s mom who laughed until she almost fell on the mattress! I swear, she laughed like she just had “ice” or “shabu” or “weed”! Hahaha! Now I know why they had mattress at the hall! Kahkahkah!

Then came the best part, lunch time! The scariest moment for Mama, I bet so. Coz she’s a completely choosy classy yet conventional lady that I’ve ever know. For me, it was a fun time scene! Let’s see whether she eats this simple dish called “lele goreng” (fried catfish) and steamed water spinach with “sambal goreng”. (Remember the super hot sambal that we had in The Waroeng Raminten? This one was eatable and lesser hot.)

Being me who usually eat “kampung” food, I must admit that warm and simple dishes are the best. I was the one who finished the first serving, and eagerly wanted to call for a second serving, BUT I was too timid! What Mama will say if I add? (Eii makan banyak nyer!) But what Eny’s mom will say if I don’t add? (Tak sudi ke masakan dapur kayu?) Well, I did add the second serving. You know, I actually wanted to go for third serving but hubby started to squirt his eyes, hinting that I shouldn’t. Why?? WHY?? That “sambal jawa” and “keli goreng” was an excellent combination! Cruel you. 

Mama? She ate a bit. Voila! Meantime, Abah just being well-mannered and finished his first serving. Same goes to hubby and Wan. Boring. While Eny did the dishwashing, I peeked in the kitchen area. I wore slippers to walk around. The wash area was as big as our normal toilet. The kitchen was as big as our guest room. It was attached to the masterbed room on one side, and path to the backside of the house, on the other side. And they cooked using firewood. Like campfire everyday, you know. Nice huh?

We then being served with Jogja special tidbits called “bakpia”. It was hard to bite but it was tasty to try. While eating, Eny’s dad’s younger brother came and introduced his family. Quite a humble young village chief, who wore knee-length pants. With this man, we fairly understood his slang coz he spoke good Indo sinetron. Hahaha! We finally stepped out and stood outside, in front of the main door, looking at two sapi (cow). Their life was quite easy coz they have paddy field, they plant vegetables, and they catch keli (catfish) whenever they want.

“Kong! Kong! Kong!”

What?? Is that…a dog? A small dog?? (You guys should see Mama’s face when she saw this dog! Hahaha! Well, she’s a typical Malay lady kan.)

The dog was tied, looking curiously at us. I was told that they kept this dog to watch over the sapi. (But the dog was tied…how?) Sapi is precious and one sapi can cost them a house (if they sell it). I didn’t ask how they feed the dog, or bath the dog, or walk the dog, but I believe that they know what is okay and what is not. I know we can keep a dog for a reason, not for saja-saja.

“Makasih ya, datang dari jauh, ketemu keluarga yang ngak sama tarafnya ya…” Eny’s mom almost cried out when she thanked us for coming that far just to see them who is not as par as us.

“Ish…ngak…semuanya ASALLLL dari kampung…” I stressed out the word (we came from village too), like former Raja Lawak tagline.

“Kamu ini lucu lah! Lucu skali!” (You are funny, very funny.)

AND ENY’S MOM DID IT AGAIN! She laughed out loud NON-STOP, and walked back and forth while carrying Haikal in her arms! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Everyone laughed looking at the laughing mom! She's so funny!

We hugged each other and invited them to come to Malaysia. They rejected nicely coz they are afraid to fly. "Bot aja ya buk?" Hahahaha! Eny’s mom clearly loves me, I kid you not. She insisted me to come back and make lots of babies. *Krik krik*

Jogjakarta : Mount Merapi

The path to Mount Merapi was still coated with dust from earlier eruption. True enough, the place is now a historical site, or locally called “wisata”. Parking is chargeable. Rides (normal bike, dirt bike, jeep) are chargeable. Guide is chargeable. What else? They have stalls selling souvenirs along the way up. Undoubtedly the eruption had created such income for the villagers.

The surrounding was clearly depressing with the after-effects. Burnt trees and sapless land, with little bit of greenie grass that starting to cover the whole area. I prayed to Allah that nothing will happen while we were there. I turned 360 degree and sulked, questioned hubby and his family, where Merapi is. And I, again, felt like cursing someone, or something, probably the cloud, for hiding it. We didn’t get the chance to view the Mount Merapi at Merapi Golf, and we didn’t get the chance to view this marvelous, fabulous, tremendous mount, at its own location?? Double punched! Allah the almighty. (Mengucap.)

Hubby and I decided to ride “ojek”, where each of us rented two bikers and bikes to bring us uphill. The rest stayed. Along the bike ride, we saw Mount Merapi, NOT STILL! The clouds were thicker than Alleycat’s hair then. Anyhow, we stopped at the site and one of the biker tagged along with us, doing the story-telling. The house was totally burnt out and ashes were what left. There were vehicles like van (that came back to save Mbah Maridjan) and bikes that burnt and rusty (own by the villagers).

There was a mini mushola on the upper left side of the house. Opposite the house ground, there were souvenir shops that run by Mbah Maridjan’s daughters. All of them (including the wife) are safe and sound, coz they did run away before the eruption. And everyone knows that Mbah Maridjan didn’t make it (he didn’t even move a step), for he thought that he will be protected since he’s the Mount Merapi’s keeper. Well, Allah is almighty. What is written, is written.

I remembered that Eny used to say, the villagers are quite believe-in, somehow, with this supernatural and mystical thingy. Moreover, they didn’t want to leave the place coz they didn’t believe in the forecast (of eruption), they didn’t trust in technology (on the forecasting), and they afraid of their “sapi” (cows) being stolen by the volunteers. Like, seriously?? Who wants to steal and drag a group of cows down the hill when hot magma chasing behind you?? You can’t even drag a cow, I tell you! But if I was in their shoes (villagers) I would understand that, coz this is where they live, this is where they shepherd their animals, this is where they harvest their plants, and what not. It’s a hard life, you know. Ok, I love Malaysia.

Since the site started to occupy with school kids, we decided to turn back. We then unable to see the rest of the family, for almost an hour! We lost them! At this point of time, I swear that I will kill Ridz if he was to bring Abah and Mama to the site, in jeep! Expensive you know! And I wanted to try the jeep too! Unfair! Huh! So we waited.

But they actually didn’t. (Drama.) They just walked up and get some souvenirs. (Buruk sangka.) Mama got herself a wooden spatula with Merapi written on it, and Putri got herself a Hello Kitty cap, from her beloved intan payung grandpa. Whatever you insist, Putri, you surely own it. Hahaha!