The first time I visited Yogyakarta, I had just turned 18. I remember vigorously walking the streets and feeling a connection with the city and its inhabitants that I could not explain. Every part of old Yogyakarta held something very dear, and every brasserie that looked like it had been there forever somehow seemed very familiar.
Was it the culture, so readily apparent in every square, every narrow street and every corner? Was it the architecture, which I grew up with and could so easily relate to?
