Then, a clearing. A vision, improbable and delightful, materialized from the verdant embrace of the fields. Ayom Jogja stood, a beacon of contemporary design amidst the rustic landscape. Its logo, a stylized bird in flight, promised an escape from the ordinary. Relief morphed into exhilaration. Dimas' friend had not steered us wrong.
Inside, Ayom unfolded like a dream. Light streamed through the expansive space, its wooden frame a testament to modern sensibilities. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation and the clink of cutlery. We had stumbled upon a sanctuary, a world away from the day's dusty adventures.
A designer's touch was evident in every detail. The ice cream station, a promise of sugary indulgence to come, beckoned at the entrance. We snaked past the Instagram corner, a shrine to the ubiquitous social media beast, its backdrop the endless sway of the paddy fields. Our table, strategically placed at the end of the long hall, offered panoramic views of the verdant tapestry. Outside, a smattering of tables nestled amidst the greenery, cocooned by the whispering symphony of insects.
The food, when it arrived, was a revelation. Simple dishes – rice, crisp duck, vibrant vegetables – took on an air of understated elegance, each morsel a testament to the chef's quiet mastery. As we devoured our meal, a train rumbled past, its iron song a counterpoint to the gentle hum of conversation. The scene was pure, unadulterated magic – a Michelin-starred meal amidst the whispering rice paddies, the soundtrack a chorus of crickets and a passing locomotive.
The pièce de résistance arrived in the form of a powerful searchlight lancing the night sky. Visions of a clandestine rave party danced in my head, a bizarre counterpoint to the bucolic setting. Reality, as ever, proved less fantastical; it was merely a local fairground, its garish lights a stark contrast to the moonlit serenity that surrounded us.
Sated and grinning like Cheshire cats, Cynthia and I succumbed to the siren song of the ice cream station. Salted caramel, a perfect end to an extraordinary evening. We paid in crisp rupiah, the satisfying counting of Rupiah a grounding note in this surreal dreamscape.
The drive back was a blur, the image of Ayom Jogja etched in our memories. It wasn't just a meal; it was an experience, a testament to the unexpected beauty that can bloom in the most unlikely of places. Reaching the stolid comfort of Hotel Khas Tugu, we collapsed onto our beds, lulled to sleep by the distant echoes of the Javanese night.
#wheeteck #wheetecktravel #wheetecktravelogue
No comments:
Post a Comment