Advertisement
Published: July 20th 2023
Beautiful day, a gift for the traveller… ~ Indonesian Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were exploring the atmospheric city of
Yogyakartaand its surrounds.
We woke early and aimed to fuel-up with a big breakfast, but time was against us, so I opted for a more moderate spread of cornflakes, black rice porridge with coconut milk, omelette with hot chilli sambal, mini croissants, tea and apple juice. I also sampled a health juice, but it wasn’t pleasant at all. To be honest, this was a fairly ordinary breakfast buffet, which surprised us, as we had become very fond of Greenhost Boutique Hotel, our accommodation in Yogyakarta for the next few days.
Our first activity of the day was a tour of the Borobudur Temple, and we needed to get there before the tourist hordes swarmed the place, so we jumped into a minibus and left the hotel at 7am. It was a one-and-a-half-hour drive to the Borobudur Archaeological Park Complex, which is located around 45 kilometres northwest of Yogyakarta.
I was surprised how long it took us to escape the bustling streets of Yogyakarta. The city is crowded, and the province – also known as the Special Region of Yogyakarta – has a population of roughly four
million. Add in the transitory tourist populace, and you have a recipe for congestion.
As the world’s largest Buddhist temple, Borobudur is a highly significant cultural site in Indonesia. As we sped northwards through Central Java’s lush green countryside, our guide explained the Buddhist notion of
moksha – the state achieved when your spirit eventually meets the spirit world. Often described as a liberation from the cycle of death and rebirth (reincarnation), moksha is synonymous with nirvana – the ultimate release from desire, craving, suffering and ignorance. While it has always fascinated me, I would never actively seek moksha. I much prefer the peculiarity of new experiences; the melancholy of poignant music; the challenge of unresolved theories; the providence of daily life. And when my time comes, I’m happy to slip into nothingness. I don’t really want to be ‘at one’ with the universe, in a state of pure self-knowledge. It would become so tiresome, so quickly.
When we arrived at the Borobudur Archaeological Park Complex around 8:30am, there were tourists everywhere. So much for arriving before the hordes! As the morning progressed, more and more tourists (foreign and local) swarmed the site. Yet there was little more
we could have done. Without a mega-early start from Yogyakarta, we could not have arrived any earlier. We simply had to endure the crowds.
After waiting in a covered area while our tickets were purchased, we entered the complex and made our way to the sandal station. To preserve the temple’s old stone blocks from the constant trampling of tourist shoes, visitors are required to wear
temple sandals. Crafted from cane, these sandals have been specially designed to protect the 8th century ruins from degeneration. Our initial reaction was one of horror. Were the sandals in a perpetual reuse cycle? In other words, were we required to wear sandals that squillions of other tourists had already worn in Borobudur’s hot humid conditions? The potential to acquire a fungal infection suddenly became a very real prospect. Oh no!
Luckily, each pair of sandals was completely new. Phew! They were also included in the ticket price, so we were able to keep them. ‘They’ll be perfect slippers for wandering around home in summer’, I thought to myself. We selected an appropriate size, placed them in their impressive tote packs (also included in the price) and made our way towards the
imposing temple, which loomed in the middle distance at the end of a long grassy avenue lined with trees.
It was a picturesque and tranquil approach to the symmetrical monument, despite the intense heat from the mid-morning sun. We sought shade wherever we could find it (mostly in the shadows cast from the avenue trees), knowing full well there would be little to no shade once we started exploring the ancient temple before us. On arriving at the eastern entry point on its outer foundation, we donned our temple sandals (which were surprisingly uncomfortable) and climbed a few steep stone steps to the first balustrade gallery. It was so hot!
Our friendly local guide was eager to describe the design of the temple (and how it reflects Buddhist cosmology), but my capacity to concentrate was waning at an alarming rate. It was just so damn hot, and there was no respite from the sun. There were also distractions, none more so than an inappropriately dressed foreign tourist posing seductively against the balustrade. Her exhibitionism was hilarious, and culturally inappropriate on so many levels.
The local (Indonesian) tourists, on the other hand, were very respectful of the religious
significance and cultural value of the temple. They were also incredibly friendly. The difference between the two demographic groups was stark. We climbed through the balustrade galleries in the blistering glare of the sun until we reached the uppermost zone of the temple, which is known as
Arupadhatu.
Arupadhatu equates to formlessness, the highest sphere of existence in Buddhist cosmology. It symbolises freedom from the physical world. As mentioned above, it’s not something I aspire to, and I certainly didn’t feel any type of liberation when we struggled up the final stone step and set foot on the upper zone of the ancient temple. However, the panoramic views of the surrounding mountains were amazing, and the photo opportunities were infinite.
Having photographed the extraordinary temple and its lush surrounds from every conceivable angle, we descended the steep stone steps on the western side of the monument and made our way out of the complex. This involved ‘running the gauntlet’ of eager souvenir hawkers who were simply trying to make a living. They walked with us to the carpark, reducing the price of their nick-nacks every ten or so metres. We picked up a small stone stupa from one
of the quieter and more sedate stall owners. It was a replica of the stupas from the uppermost zone of the temple.
The souvenir hawkers only relented when we clambered into our minibus. They were not annoying or bothersome, and their final price for a small stone stupa (similar to the one we purchased) was very low. We had no idea they would drop their initial price so far. Regardless, the quality of our stupa was excellent, so we were more than happy with our acquisition.
After navigating the tourists milling around the main entrance to the Borobudur Archaeological Park Complex, we headed to nearby Borobudur Silver (BS) Resto for lunch. After exploring the old temple in the relentless morning sun, it was a relief to sit down and refresh. We settled at a small table in an elevated open-sided dining area and ordered the following dishes:
>
sate ayam (chicken satay) – chicken served on skewers with a peanut sauce and a thick chilli soy sauce
>
sate daging sapi (beef satay) – beef served on skewers with a peanut sauce and a thick chilli soy sauce
>
terong balado (fried eggplant with chilli and tomato)
>
nasi putih (steamed rice).
I recovered with a Bintang pilsener beer, while Ren enjoyed a Borobudur Sunrise (which contained cocopandan syrup, mango juice, soda water, melon and basil seeds). It was an amazing meal! Feeling very refreshed and rejuvenated, we left the restaurant, jumped into our waiting minibus and headed back to Yogyakarta for a scheduled walking tour of the bustling city.
Now I made very few (if any) notes on this walking tour, which is highly unusual for me. I was starting to flag. The sun exposure on the ancient temple had diminished my energy reserves. Every so often you hit a wall during travel, where you find yourself looking at a structure, reading a sentence, hearing a piece of music, listening to a voice, smelling cooking aromas drifting in the air – yet nothing settles, sinks in or makes any sense. I was in this state of mind on our walking tour of Yogyakarta. The lights were on, but I’m not entirely sure anyone was home.
We visited the tranquil Tamin Sari Water Castle, walked past an underground mosque, navigated the labyrinth of narrow lanes and tunnels that weave around the Kraton (the city’s royal
palace complex) and sampled
bakpia pathok (a small round pastry roll with mung bean filling) at Oleh-Oleh Khas Jogja – a tiny shop that specialises in this Chinese-influenced delicacy. And all the while, Yogyakarta’s vibrant street art managed to capture my attention at every turn, despite my waning ability to focus on anything else around me. I loved this bohemian city – I was just too exhausted to take it all in.
As we emerged from Yogyakarta’s tangled web of back streets and lanes, Ren started to feel unwell. We stopped briefly on the sidewalk to sit down, but it was clear we couldn’t continue. We made the decision to pull out of the walking tour and return to the hotel. Our guide ordered a ride-sharing car through her phone app (the Indonesian equivalent of Uber), and it arrived soon after. The driver was amazing. He got us through the busy city streets and back to our hotel in no time at all.
While Ren rested in the room, I headed out to pick up our laundry and grab some soft drinks from a nearby Alfamart. After carrying a tube of rehydration tablets in our packs for many
trips, we finally had a reason to use them. Small victories! We didn’t bother with dinner, as we’d enjoyed a large and substantial lunch. As Ren slept, I munched on a packet of chips while I worked on my travel notes.
SHE SAID... We woke very refreshed and I immediately looked at the
Yogyakarta sky through our large hotel room window – yey! No rain! It was going to be an early start to try and avoid the crowds at Candi Borobudur – the largest Buddhist structure on earth. So we rushed to get ready and be down at breakfast at 6am on the dot. Because our hotel – the Greenhost Boutique Hotel – was so lovely, we had assumed breakfast would be great too. Well, even though there were many selections along a long buffet, I found it all a bit lack lustre. It may have been because we were rushing that morning or maybe I’d reached my fill of savoury breakfast, but all I felt like was some toast and jam… well, it was a red jam like substance that tasted of pure sugar. I also enjoyed some
bubur ketan hitam (black glutinous rice porridge
with coconut milk and palm sugar). I love having dessert for breakfast! 😊
The group gathered at reception at 7am and we squeezed into a minibus for the one and half hour drive to the Borobudur Temple complex. Given we’d arrived in heavy rain and hadn’t ventured more than a block from our hotel the previous evening, it was nice to get our first glimpse of the vast city of Yogyakarta. Susi (our group leader) took this opportunity to give us very interesting briefings on the history of the city, the history of Buddhism as well as some brief facts about the Borobudur temple we were about to visit.
As we drew closer to Borobudur, which is set in the Kedu Valley of Central Java, I was surprised that the area around it was so built up! I had got the impression from social media and travel photography that the complex was in a quiet rural setting. As we turned into the first gates of the Borobudur complex, we saw our first Indonesian volcano in the distance – Mount Merapi was brooding but beautiful with clouds hanging around halfway up its sides. It made me excited about our
upcoming trip to Mount Bromo.
As we drove up to the main carpark, Susi warned us that the vendors who were about to swarm our minibus would be very tenacious. And she wasn’t wrong. Any sort of eye contact was seen as a sign of interest and they would pounce. I’m always courteous to vendors – they are trying hard, very hard actually, to make a living – and I try to never forget that, no matter how annoying or invasive they get. One hat seller decided to zero in on me, and he relentlessly told me how good I would look in his sun hat. I may have glanced at the hat being thrust in front of my face for a microsecond, to which he said “I can see you love it, and I have it in your extra-large size!” Eh? Excuse me? I’ve never even considered that my head was anything other than ordinary sized. But apparently, I have a massive head… and I suppose a hat seller would know these things. 😄
Susi joined the long queue that had already formed at the still-closed ticket counter, which wasn’t opening until 9am. We sat in a
shady pavilion while we waited first for the tickets to be bought, and then for our turn to get into the complex. Susi explained that before COVID hit, the crowds coming through here were in the thousands, and it had started impacting the ancient temple structure; especially the stone steps. As a result, the management of the archaeological park were trialling new systems to protect the stone work from further damage (and in order keep their UNESCO listing too).
The first of these new rules was that we had to remove our shoes and wear the provided non-abrasive temple slippers. I was mentally preparing to walk barefoot rather than wear communal slippers… but thankfully the slippers were brand new! The woven slippers are specially made for the temple by a local women’s cooperative, and they came in a cute tote bag that had a print of one of the bas relief panels we were about to see. Not only was this helping preserve the temple stones as well as boost the local economy, but it also gave us traditional slippers and a tote bag as souvenirs. I loved everything about this idea.
The second change was that people
had to enter in small groups with one of the temple’s guides, and only limited numbers of these groups were allowed into the complex at one time. And lastly, they alternated the galleries that we could visit on any day, in order to give parts of the complex a rest from tourist feet. I loved all of these changes too.
Our allocated guide Darto predictably gathered us under a shady tree and gave us a brief history of the temple before we’d even had a chance to clap eyes on it. The temple is thought to have been built around the 8th and 9th centuries, but was ‘lost’ to the world around the 10th-15th century. This timeline is probably based on conjecture, because the Javanese converted to Islam about this time. The temple was first rediscovered in the 19th century, deep in the jungle and under centuries of layers of volcanic ash… but Darto didn’t seem very impressed with the initial restoration efforts by the Dutch. The current structure we see is a result of a second renovation with funds from UNESCO. Borobudur temple is claimed to be the biggest single-structure Buddhist temple in the world, and is very
significant to both Javanese and Buddhist history.
I was busting to get going and see the temple, and we finally stepped onto the paved walkway that would take us to the temple. It was shaping up to be a very hot day, and I was already a sweaty mess by the time we started walking. The setting is a tranquil park with an avenue of trees, raised grass beds and water features; with the mysterious dark stone temple shimmering at the end of the walkway. We were approaching along the grand east entranceway.
Darto showed us the best spot to get a group photo with the temple in the distance. I think he had hoped that after this we wouldn’t keep randomly stopping to take more photos… but we couldn’t help ourselves! He was extremely patient and understood that we were very excited to see this beautiful temple.
It was only as we drew near that I realised the temple was built on a hill. We finally ascended the base of the temple via the first stone staircase. The unroofed temple looked roughly like a stepped pyramid in shape – with a base followed by five square
terraces, then three circular platforms, and at the top sat an enormous bell-shaped stupa. Apparently, it was built to resemble a mandala (a sacred geometric configuration in Buddhism) when viewed from above. I wondered how anything was ‘viewed from above’ in the 8th century. But I reminded myself that we are clearly unaware of many ingenious technologies that must have existed in the past.
We climbed further to the square terraces, and it seemed like every conceivable surface was decorated with beautifully carved bas reliefs. There were also rows of carved niches that held buddha statues. We had an entire area of Gallery 1 to ourselves to slowly take in the temple structure and the carvings and decorated balustrades at our own pace. Darto explained that the narrative panels that encircled the monument depicted scenes of daily life in ancient Java, as well as stories from the teachings of Buddhism. The morning light was just exquisite on the stone carvings.
The structure of the temple was highly symbolic – every zone, every level and even every direction held deep religious meaning. My understanding of Buddhism is passable, but not anywhere close enough to decipher and admire the nuances
of this temple’s architecture. Darto was a lovely guy, and some of his narration was interesting… but after a while I realised that I had glazed over… so I snuck off to take some photos on my own.
I now realised why I had thought this temple was set in a rural area – when inside the temple, it’s very easy to only focus on the surrounding hills and the garden below, as there is no view to the nearby town, the giant carparks, the masses of shops or the flock of vendors outside the gates. Its unroofed architecture also helped to give that sense of being open to nature. Given the crowds in the carpark and the lines at the ticket office, I had expected it to be extremely crowded as we made our way through the temple, but it really didn’t feel that way.
Every small group had a guide who shepherded them through the complex, and I loved the way the guides all went in different directions so each group felt like they had the place to themselves. As I stood there taking in the peace and tranquillity of the place, I tried to imagine
how this temple would have looked and felt in ancient times, with pilgrims circling each level and slowly climbing higher towards the main stupa at the top (which represented Nirvana, the highest level of consciousness).
I know I shouldn’t, but for both its scale and magnificence, I couldn’t help but make comparisons to the Hindu-Buddhist Temple of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. I googled it afterwards and was quite surprised that Borobudur predated the 12th century Angkor Wat by three or four hundred years! It made the construction and craftmanship of Borobudur from the surrounding volcanic rock all the more incredible. Buddhist temples around the world have similar shapes and forms that reference Buddhist iconography, but I really love seeing the local architectural and cultural adaptation of the temples in different countries.
The higher we climbed, the stone steps became narrower and steeper. We bypassed the galleries that were closed and reached the area of concentric platforms. In stark contrast to the square terraces, these circular podiums are unornamented with any carvings, and the main focus was 72 small stupas, each containing a statue of the buddha. These little ‘openwork’ perforated stone stupas have become synonymous with the imagery
of Borobudur. In fact, the main large stupa, although the most important and holy part of the complex, bears no immediately recognisable marks of being from Borobudur.
While walking around the circular podium, I noticed that even though the temple is recognised as a sacred Buddhist temple, there weren’t any people praying nor were there any signs of religious rituals such as incense or flowers. I had read that the temple was still used during Buddhist festivals, but I suppose the lack of offerings by visiting local tourists reflects the very small Buddhist population in Java and Indonesia.
As if in confirmation of my thoughts, a group of local tourists in traditional Muslim clothing struggled up the steps right then. While bonding over how difficult the climb to the top was in that intense heat, it was very hard to ignore that the four women were dressed in identical clothing, even down to the same sunglasses! I assumed they were wacky friends who wanted to dress alike on their holiday, or perhaps they were sisters… but on posing for photos, they called a man over and said he was their husband. They laughed over how he had to
stand in the middle, and the four wives had to stand in order of seniority. They were lovely bubbly women and I really wished we could have chatted without a language barrier.
Tourists weren’t allowed any higher towards the main stupa, so after doing a couple of circuits of the small stupas and taking countless photos, we reluctantly left the complex. There are four sets of stone steps at the four cardinal points of the temple, and we walked back down on the west steps to the exit. It was at this point that Susi (who hadn’t walked around with us) realised that one of the group members had ‘accidently on purpose’ gone his own way. After several phone calls, Susi tracked him down and we made our way to the exit via the outdoor parts of the museum (which, with no disrespect meant, looked like a decapitated buddha statue graveyard).
The sun had been relentless, and it wasn’t until we retreated into the shade at the bottom of the temple that I realised I had got quite a bit of sunburn despite my sunscreen. After the predominantly grey and hazy skies we’d had on the trip so
far, I loved the blue-sky day we had been blessed with… but I’d paid a small price for it.
Not surprisingly, the exit to the carpark also took us through the market stalls, and we were again bombarded by vendors. Andrew and I had decided that a small model of a Borobudur stupa would be a lovely souvenir, but I wasn’t prepared to pay the initial asking price of the guys swarming us. The further we walked the lower the price became and we finally paid what we thought was a reasonable price for a stone replica of the perforated stupas. The inverted bell top of the stupa was removable, and displayed a small buddha inside. 😊
To say I enjoyed our visit to this Borobudur temple would be an understatement. I absolutely loved it! It’s not only beautiful in itself with its intricate carvings and amazing architecture; but it has a certain intangible quality of serenity and sanctity that is hard to describe. I have no doubt that the reduced crowd capacity helped greatly with the wonderful experience we had. And to top it off, we have a souvenir stupa (made from the local stone around the
site) to remember this amazing visit by. That’s if it makes it back home in one piece though. Fingers crossed!
On the way back to Yogyakarta, we stopped for lunch at a curious looking place. It was a tourist shop with a hodgepodge of things for sale downstairs, and a restaurant in a large open-sided upstairs room that looked out over ponds, lawns and swathes of bamboo. I normally love Asian traditional open-sided restaurants that allow natural ventilation and have a relaxing vibe, but after the hot morning at Borobudur, some crisp air-conditioning would have been very welcome.
The BS Resto’s menu was quite large, so I had option anxiety, changing my mind several times. In the end Andrew and I shared plates of
sate ayam (chicken satay),
sate daging sapi (beef satay) and
terong balado (fried eggplant with chilli and tomato). By now we had realised that Indonesians really know how to make excellent eggplant (aubergine) dishes. Andrew loved his very cold Bintang beer, and even though I wasn’t considering an alcoholic beverage… the cocktail list had drinks with cocopandan syrup (coconut syrup and pandan leaf juice) that I couldn’t resist. My Borobudur Sunrise (cocopandan syrup, mango
juice, soda water, melon and basil seed) was lovely, but it definitely sounded better on paper. Luckily the same wasn’t true of the food – everything was seriously delicious, especially the spicy eggplant dish. I made me wish that we could get better traditional Indonesian food back at home.
Our plan for the afternoon was to return to the hotel and rest for a little while, before doing a guided city walking tour. We had booked this activity through Susi, and on our way back from lunch Susi got notification that the guide couldn’t make it. Given there were a few of us interested in the walk, Susi decided to run it herself; but the only downside was that we had been stuck in traffic for so long that we didn’t have time to rest at the hotel before the walk started.
The three-hour City Walking Tour was supposed to include Taman Sari which closed at 3pm, so we rushed there first. Taman Sari is also called the Water Castle, and it was once the site of the water garden of the Sultanate of Yogyakarta. Yogyakarta is the only region in Indonesia that is still governed by a
Sultan, and Susi had given us a brief run-down of the Sultanate and its place in Yogyakarta’s history as well as its influence on modern society. I got the distinct impression that the locals, of which Susi is one, love their Sultan and don’t see things any differently to how we view the ups and downs of politicians governing our cities and states.
By all accounts, the 9th Sultan was much loved. The 10th Sultan (his son) is currently in power, and is dealing with succession issues because he doesn’t have any male heirs. We were intrigued, and Susi explained the many theories on how the next Sultan will be chosen. It was initially going to be his younger brother, but he died; and the remaining (obvious) options are that it be his eldest daughter (breaking the male Sultan tradition), or that it passes to the oldest grandson (who is barely an adult). The daughter’s royal title was recently changed to make her heir-apparent, and apparently this was met with a lot of opposition from the conservative quarters, especially the Sultans siblings. It will be a potentially pivotal time for the city when the current Sultan dies and his
very influential wife (a Senator) and overseas educated daughters face the conservative opposition that is surely going to play out.
Anyway, back to Taman Sari and the time of many Sultans ago. It was apparently once a very large and grand garden with a mosque and many buildings. However, all that’s now left of the complex is the main pool, some underground tunnels and a mosque. We entered the somewhat dilapidated bath house which has a sunken open-air pool accessed by steps from two sides. The pool is enclosed by high walls, and also has a row of small rooms and a tower, which is apparently where the Sultan watched his concubines from. It was apparent that this would have once been a beautiful and opulent space to relax in, but the peeling paintwork, moss on the water-stained walls and tatty pot plants told a very sad story of neglect. I love ancient Islamic architecture for its symmetry and balance, and this bath house had been designed along those lines. I really wish they’d use funds from the entry tickets to spruce the place up a bit.
We walked out of the bath house into an area that
would have once been the extensive gardens where the Sultan hunted his deer, but humanity had slowly encroached onto it over the centuries. A small neighbourhood had sprung up around the park when it stopped being used by the royal family. We walked through this neighbourhood (which has taken on the name of Taman Sari) with its modest houses and its charming network of lanes. One of the lanes took us past the windows of the old underground mosque. This mosque is unique in being completely circular in shape. It's been abandoned for a long time, but apparently has been called into use as a refuge in times of conflict.
We stopped to sample local
bakpia pies from a small shop. This was the Indonesian version of the Chinese pia cakes we’d sampled in Jakarta’s Chinatown. Like the original Chinese pie, these had a mung bean filling. The very friendly ladies running the shop had also branched into a chocolate version, but the traditional mung bean version was definitely the better option.
The walk continued through the very unassuming neighbourhood, with life spilling out of the small houses onto the lanes. Soon after this, I started feeling slightly
unwell but thought I was merely tired, so I kept going. However, in hindsight, I should have known something was wrong, as this was about the time I stopped taking photos.
We walked through some underground tunnels and entered another little neighbourhood called Kampung Polowijan. We walked past the walled Kraton (Sultan’s Palace) and briefly entered the front entrance to have a look at the buildings. It was a bit disappointing, as all we could see were the gates and front doors. Susi pointed out the eagle on the royal crest, and explained that the number of feathers depicted on the eagle showed which Sultan was in power at the time the crest was posted on the gates and buildings etc.
Susi also explained that traditional cities like Yogyakarta are usually planned around the government (Sultan’s Palace) and have a square in front, with a mosque to the left of the square and a market on one of the other sides. The next stop was the main city mosque. Susi pointed out that the early mosques in Java had very distinct architecture – with pointed tiled roofs of Javanese origin, rather than the domes of Arabic architecture that
the modern mosques have. We then walked around the North Square (alun-alun lor) with its two large sacred banyan trees in the centre.
We kept walking, and by now I had started feeling much worse. When we stopped for gelato and I didn’t want like one, I knew this was a sign that I really wasn’t well! I had a feeling it was a touch of sunstroke, and considered that I should return to the hotel. However, I was reluctant to do so; because firstly, I’d miss walking through the local market, and secondly, Andrew insisted that he would leave the tour too. Anyway, after some discussion (I lost), Susi ordered us a Gojek (local version of Uber) to take both of us back to the hotel. And fortunately, it wasn’t a moment too soon. All I could manage by the time we got to the hotel was a cold shower and a lie down.
Not only had poor Andrew missed out on the rest of the walking tour, but he also refused to go for dinner with the rest of the group. I felt rather rank from about 5pm until 3am; but I started to feel semi-human
after that. Andrew had been taking very good care of me by insisting I take rehydration drinks throughout the night, and he also brought me plain toast from the breakfast buffet. It obviously set me straight.
We had a big day of activities planned, and I was glad I had regained some energy to keep exploring Yogyakarta. However, I could tell by the way Andrew looked at me that he wasn’t entirely sure if I was actually feeling better… or if I was faking my recovery due to FOMO (fear of missing out). To be honest, I wasn’t completely sure either. 😊
See you around Yogyakarta!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.633s; Tpl: 0.026s; cc: 39; qc: 193; dbt: 0.2885s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 2.2mb
Jasmin Baker
non-member comment
Wow
Wow! Just Wow! It looks so amazing. I would love this temple I think.