A few days ago when I was reading Lonely Planet to plan my onward itinerary, a feature appeared on BBC World about how Craig ”Hot Lixx Hulahan” Billmeier, an American, had won the 2008 Air Guitar Championships. Apparently air guitar was not without its risks. The feature reported that during the course of the competition, Craig had sustained a thumb fracture. Huh? Playing air? Surely not? I was no expert, but I would have hazarded a guess that the fracture had been caused by him strumming some instrument other than his guitar.

I’ve digressed. My reading brought me to Yogyakarta, the reputed cultural heartland of Java, Indonesia. I arrived this morning, after surviving a harrowing ten-hour overnight trip from Bandung on an extremely uncomfortable mini-bus – what could only have been described as a feat of death defiance. For the dozen or so times I’d stirred from my state of half-sleep during the night to peer through the windscreen, I would find another vehicle coming head on, straight towards us, only to narrowly swerve away at the last minute. Everyone in Java appears to be a wanton racing car driver, with a pounding sense of urgency to overtake. Depending on your point of view, you might consider such motoring exploits on barely lit night roads, with only one lane in each direction, to be either adrenalin inducing or just plain terrifying.

I’ve digressed again. For although I wanted to talk about what a girl’s got to eat, there was sadly not much to talk about. Unfortunately I’m not in possession of a stomach with a steely disposition, just one with a spirit of adventure when it comes to trying foreign foods. This had finally caught up with me. The spirit hadn’t been able to keep up with the mechanics of my body, and so alas, I’m laying low on the Indonesian food front for a little while…