🏛️🕰️ Kota Tua

It felt like a corner of the city that remembered more than it said. The moment I stepped into Fatahillah Square, it was like the traffic noise got muffled, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, like it’s been there a long time. Colonial-era buildings lined the square in faded whites and sun-washed browns, their shutters half open like they were still watching. Kids in matching school uniforms posed for group photos 📸👧👦, and a man offered me a neon pink bicycle with a matching hat, the full tourist kit for €1.50 an hour 🚲🎀. I said yes. I didn’t care how silly I looked. ☕📖 I parked outside Café Batavia, where the windows stretched tall and the wood creaked under every footstep. Inside was dim and cool 💨 ceiling fans spinning slowly, jazz humming in the background 🎷🪟. I sat upstairs with a cold iced coffee and a view over the square (€4 💸 expensive for Jakarta, but worth it for the quiet) 🧊☕. The waiter called me Mister like it was 1922. I wrote a few things in my notebook that I never finished. Outside, the sun ☀️ burned against the cobblestones, and tourists took selfies in front of rusted cannons no one really explained. 🌇🎭 As the sky began to turn gold, street performers started to appear ✨ silver-painted statue men, dancers in tiger masks, a boy balancing glass bottles like it was instinct 🎨🕺. I stayed longer than I meant to, sitting on the edge of a fountain, letting the sweat dry on my back while the city moved around me. It felt like Jakarta in a time loop 🔁 old buildings holding their breath while motorcycles buzzed just beyond the square’s edge. It didn’t feel curated. It felt remembered. And somehow, like it had remembered me too. #jakatarguide #thingstodo #travel