I know it's only a two-week holiday and nothing like the proper travelling trips I've done before (believe me, I know). But I'm heading back into that world.
It was only when light rain started to fall that we realised we were in a thunderstorm. It was a pretty exciting way to be welcomed to the country. And given the relentless humidity, I doubt it will be our last.
I did not love Jakarta. But the friendliness of its inhabitants, its fascinating culture, and the richness of its street life (of which I only had a tiny nibble), suggested that I had plenty to look forward to in the next two weeks.
One of the most beautiful restaurants I've ever been to.
And that's the story of how we accidentally went to an Indonesian geology conference and ate their cream buns.
I am a very naive white girl, and I've never seen anyone solicit for sex work before.
Our day out to see the nature around Bandung -- sulphur lakes, hot springs, and tea plantations as far as the eye can see.
But I wanted to say these things and to post these pictures, because looking at those civets looking back at me made me sick to my hypocritical stomach.
Simply put, travelling with others makes you think more about yourselves, and travelling alone makes you think more about others.
I just wanted to inform you all that this delight is an item in the world that can be purchased.
We call the toddlers trapped between parents a 'bab sandwich', and when the kid is at the front, which they do when they're a little older and can hold onto the handlebars, an 'open bab sandwich'.
It remains my only proper conversation with someone close to me in age -- the majority of people I speak to are older men. I left feeling refreshed and pleased both physically and socially -- I had made a connection.
In many ways it's this unfamiliarity and the learning that comes with it that really fuels my love of travelling. I crave that shake-up of my ordinary boring middle-class-white expectations and understanding.
This was our failed day: the day where, inexplicably, everything went wrong. It happens on every trip, sometimes multiple times, and this was the day for it to happen to us.
I am no stranger to museums and ruins, but practical things like music and dance I have less experience of, so I was keen to explore those things more fully -- something that is more-or-less quite easy to do here.
Will I write a blog post about sugar cane juice every time I go to a new country and find it for sale? Yeah, probably.
Yogyakarta is very touristy, but the tourist areas are small pockets spread throughout the city, and elsewhere it has the clearest Javanese culture of anywhere in Java.
Borobodur is a Buddhist temple, but Prambanan is a Hindu one, and I was in my element here.
Some of this would put any hipster Shoreditch graffiti artist to shame.
That's right: this supposedly well-travelled, sensible, clever girl.
It was so calm, so passionate, and quite magical.
The jewel of Javanese architecture and history.
I imagined, with trepidation, going into a spa and being drawn a diagram.
One of the greatest pleasures of travelling here in Indonesia is just looking out of the window.
Because there's nothing that sells your business or makes you look cool like a bundle of English words that have a vague, passing acquaintance with sense.
These are the best ones I collected from when I was in Java.
Malang had a calm, pleasant atmosphere to it, rather than being as bustling as other big Javanese cities, and it was there that I had the one day of my holiday where it didn't rain.
In some ways, visiting these temples was more meaningful than visiting ones fifty times their size, because they really matter.
My last day and one of the best. I made friends with a girl my age, took loads of selfies -- and danced with the devil.
Eleven things I liked and thought about whenever I was having a tough time.