We ran to an ATM and then a taxi. Everything went relatively smoothly at first given our stress and the fact that the driver spoke little English and we spoke little Bahasa. We sat back in anxious silence watching the meter and clock between wide-eyed glances out the window at the megacity before us.

The driver soon commented on the bumper-to-bumper standstill traffic going the other direction and we agreed thankful we were headed the opposite direction. Soon we were swallowing our words as we were greeted with hundreds of red taillights spanning multiple lanes. The hundreds turned to thousands as we looked into the distance. The taxi driver shook his head and repeated “bad, bad” over and over. He re-confirmed our departure time and was noticeably worried.

He suggested we call Citilink, however we didn’t have a SIM card for our phone yet. After a few times trying to explain, he gave us his phone. We began scrambling for a number and alas, could not find it al all…anywhere. We tried desperately to see if we could add international data to our New Zealand or Australian phone plans, to no avail.

At this point, the driver exited the freeway in hopes that we could circumnavigate the traffic jam. We were now in a very different part of town, far removed from the fancy, brightly lit hotels and malls. Children knocked on our windows begging, men wove between cars selling food and the intersections were an impressive array of cars, trucks and scooters honking and going every which direction. It was crazy. We soon ended back up on the highway in the traffic and we realized we as well sit back and enjoy the views since we have absolutely no control.

The juxtaposition between banks, security guards, hotels, malls and local food carts outside of makeshift and run-down houses was clearly evident as was the insanity of a megacity. Scooters zipped in and out of the traffic, people honked as they squeezed their cars into impossibly small gaps, and sirens blared as police and ambulance vehicles crawled through the traffic. It was quite the experience!

We learned a few valuable lessons about megacities in our commute: there may be more than one domestic airport (usually across the city), the traffic is insane, and you can drive in any space on the road, including the shoulder and part of the nearest lane.

Three hours later…we finally arrived at the airport, an hour after our flight left. Thankfully the airport wifi worked and we quickly found out that flights only leave for Yogyakarta in the evening and the price triples for last minute flights. So, we bought train tickets for 6:15am the next day and booked a hotel nearby. We quickly ate a little from A&W of all places, the only thing open at the airport this late at night, and headed for another taxi.
It was almost midnight and yet there were so many people about, eating, drinking, commuting and working. It was fascinating. We finally made it to our hotel around midnight and collapsed in sweet relief on a luxurious king bed in a sparkling air-conditioned room (for less than $25).

We slept soundly for about 4 hours and headed to catch a taxi to the train station listening to the echoing prayers form a nearby mosque. The train departure went well and the journey was great! We had business class tickets and enjoyed legroom and air-conditioning. We dozed on and off, read a little and stared out the window as trash heaps, tin shacks and houses were replaced with rice fields, palms, hills and white houses with terracotta roof tiles.