Moving into the City
On December 31st, I set out from the outskirts toward Jakarta's city center. Originally, I had planned to stay two more nights where I was, but the conditions there were too poor to bear. It was New Year's Eve, after all. I wanted to welcome 2025 in a place that felt a little better. So I decided to move.
The area I was leaving was considered a higher-class neighborhood, but even there I often saw people begging. Perhaps the end of the year brought them out more. As I rode closer to the city center, the number of cars and people grew. At the same time, more small side streets appeared.
Discovering the Backstreets
Unlike the main roads, these small lanes felt like they had grown their own ecosystem. Each one seemed to have its own character. Shops lined the paths, some selling things I had never seen elsewhere. Even large cars tried to squeeze through, as if convinced they could fit anywhere.
These backstreets had a unique charm. Once you start wandering them, it's hard to pull yourself away. But eventually I left the narrow lanes and returned to the wide avenues leading into the city.
A New Place to Stay
Soon I arrived at one of Jakarta's larger boulevards, where shopping malls, bus stops, and hotels stood side by side. It felt like stepping into a different world.
At my new hotel, the security guards at the entrance looked intimidating at first, but they turned out to be kind. They made sure my bicycle would not be stolen and handled it with care.
After settling in, I found a street stall for lunch—vegetables and egg with a thick sauce, only 20,000 rupiah (about 192 yen). It reminded me of Malaysia, where food stalls let you pick dishes directly, but here in Indonesia, menus are more common.
Back at the hotel, I rested before heading out again, this time for the New Year's Eve fireworks.
Toward the Fireworks
Knowing the crowds would be huge, I decided to take the train. From Manga Besar station to Cikini station cost only 4,000 rupiah (about 39 yen).
When I got off, I noticed another small lane and couldn't resist. The place was called Cikini Kramat. At night, the atmosphere there was especially unique, almost mysterious.
By around 11 p.m., I walked toward the event site. The crowds were overwhelming—so many people that I felt relieved I hadn't tried to come by bicycle. At midnight, fireworks burst into the sky, welcoming 2025.
I whispered a prayer to myself: "May this year also be a wonderful journey."
An Unexpected Encounter
When the fireworks ended, the streets were jammed with people heading home. I asked someone which direction might be less crowded and followed their advice. But the path turned out to be even more packed than before.
I sighed to myself, "This is the worst." But then I noticed a commotion ahead. A crowd had gathered, and in the middle of it stood a figure that looked familiar.
It was the president.
I could hardly believe my luck. To see the country's leader in the very first moments of the new year felt like an unexpected blessing for the journey ahead.
