The Beginning: When Bandung's Breeze Still Felt Like Home
They say touring isn’t about the destination—it’s about the journey. But let’s be honest, when your eyes are still half-closed and Bandung’s morning chill clings to you like an ex who won’t let go, you start to ask: “Why the heck am I riding all the way to Jogja?”
But that’s the thing—this craving to escape the city grind, to live life on two wheels, and feel the madness of Indonesian roads… it's stronger than the temptation to just stay in bed. Plus, my helmet was already waiting—my trusted battle-buddy for every local adventure.
The Southern Route: Hot, Crowded, and Full of Surprises
This time I took the southern route: Bandung – Tasik – Banjar – Kebumen – Jogja. Rumor has it this road offers “great views and smooth asphalt.” The reality? Traffic jams in Ciamis, instant noodle stalls every 500 meters, and trucks overtaking from all sides. But hey… that’s Indonesia. A proper tour isn’t complete without shouting at the roads first.
Then came a moment that made me pause. Around 4 p.m. in Wangon, the sun was leaning sideways, golden light hit the rice fields on both sides, and a cool breeze slipped in through my helmet vents. I don’t know why, but in that quiet second, it felt like a small voice whispered, “This… this is what you’ve been looking for.”
I loosened the throttle, gripping my leather gloves—not just for safety, but because every inch of that leather had soaked up dust, wind, and stories.
Rest Stops: The Absurd Charm of Random Coffee Stalls
You haven’t really toured in Indonesia unless you’ve had coffee at a roadside warung that not even Google Maps can find. Somewhere in Karangpucung, I stumbled upon one: pink plastic chairs, a smiling ibu (auntie) behind the counter, and a cat napping on a tray of fried snacks. The coffee? Bitter—but honestly bitter.
Conversations just flowed in that place. I met a vegetable vendor who used to be a drummer, a runaway high schooler (who claims they told their mom), and an old guy who said, “Don’t enter Jogja at night—too many memories waiting.”
Arriving in Jogja: Between Nostalgia and Sweat-Soaked Helmets
I rolled into Jogja at 10 p.m. The city lights felt like a soft hug. Riding past Malioboro Street, I realized—Jogja is like an old flame: calming, humble, and always makes you want to come back.
And yep… my body was wrecked. But I was satisfied. Riding over 400 km feels like meditation. You’re alone with your thoughts, sometimes crying inside your helmet (if you're strong enough), and you realize—you’re still alive.
I sat in the town square, helmet beside me. A little kid walked up and asked, “Mister, is this a robot helmet?” I smiled, “Yeah, but it’s a robot that gets tired too.”
(Want more scenic options to explore? Check out our Popular Motorcycle Touring Routes in Java.)
Touring Is About Expression—And a Little Bit of Style
Let’s not kid ourselves—besides soul-searching, touring is also about style. The kind of style that doesn’t need to be shouted, but shows in how you sit on the bike, in the way your helmet shines against the sunset, or in the slow, cinematic way you take off your gloves like a cowboy in an old Western.
Rune gets that. That’s why I’m wearing another helmet for the ride back. Because touring isn’t just an outward journey—it’s an inward one too.
Final Thoughts: Touring Doesn’t Need a Reason—Just Guts and a Little Bit of Crazy
If someone asks, “Why did you ride from Bandung to Jogja?” I don’t have a sophisticated answer. But after the heat, the rain, the sharp turns, and the weird roadside stops—I know this: I don’t regret it.
Sometimes, what we really need isn’t a new destination, but a new way to feel alive.