Southeast Asia is a wonderful jigsaw of countries, each with their own hidden jewels to discover. However, discovering new countries can be daunting, so we’ve invited Laurence Bradford to give us a little insight. Laurence left the US to spend most of the last three years living, working and travelling in Asia. After studying at Fudan University (Shanghai) in 2011, she taught English in Thailand, and then took on an economic policy research project with a think-tank in Bangkok. Here’s her top three tips:

Southeast Asia (SEA) is a large region with a diverse set of cultures. Often within a single country there is a range of ethnicities. This makes travelling interesting and exciting, but means you need to be aware of a range of cultural and religious sensitivities. Here are some general guidelines that can be applied.

Watch out for Petty Crime
Life-threatening crime is obviously not something you see every day, and I’ve never experienced any sense of danger. However, petty crime is quite common across many SEA countries; for instance, purse-snatchers. Whether while riding a motorbike or walking outside, it is not unusual to hear a story about a handbag being stolen.

Be aware of your surroundings, as you would when travelling anywhere in the world, especially at night. Leave valuables, such passports and expensive jewellry, in the hotel safe. It’s also a good idea to leave a backup credit card and some extra cash in the hotel room as a precaution. Take advantage of pockets instead of putting your mobile phone and wallet in the same bag.

Be Aware of Scams
There are many people who love to make a quick buck off unsuspecting foreigners—even with something as day-to-day as overcharging on clothing/souvenirs at markets. Although overpaying on a t-shirt is innocuous, it’s always best to research the country before arriving.

In Ho Chi Minh my friend took a ride in a rigged taxicab where the meter increased at an exponential rate. To the tourist who knows little about the currency exchange and even less about typical taxicab fares, how would they know it was rigged? Only later when we compared fares on the same journey did she realise she overpaid for her ride— about five times more than we had.

Always, where possible, familiarise yourself with typical costs of goods and services of the destination in advance.

Dress Conservatively
In general most SEA countries are more conservative than the Western world, especially when it comes to women’s attire.

Although I empathise with visitors sweating and dripping in the insufferable SEA heat, most local women cover their shoulders and legs at all times: some to keep out of the sun, and others for religious reasons. While you can opt for short-shorts and tube-tops, it will most likely lead to an uncomfortable number of stares. To avoid standing out anymore than necessary, make sure to wear loose-fitting, light-weight tops as well as long skirts or trousers. Of course, you can wear jeans, or really anything that covers you up. But keep in mind the heat; it may be best to leave heavy sweaters at home. Pack a pashmina in your bag; they are excellent for covering up from the sun or in temples, keeping you warm in air-conditioning, and as a picnic rug on the beach.

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To find out more about Laurence’s travels visit her website, where she offers SEA travel advice, or contact her on Twitter.

Day 11
Indonesia’s islands are small and compact, each one a unique jewel box full of promise. Sometimes the contents are an insight into life as it flashes past the car window; a women combing her child’s hair, chickens scratching around, a tethered cow chomping grass in a paddy field, a fruit market. Often it is the poorest elements of life that line the street. It is the poorest elements of life that can not afford the luxury of privacy.

Sometimes the contents of the jewel box are something glittering; a glimpse of a temple, streets decorated for a festival, the split second when you realise the Kodak moment has passed uncaptured, untrapped, still free.

Indonesia might geographically be small and compact, but the distances are deceiving. Each country seems to measure distance in a different way. When we lived in the States, the answer to the question: “how far is it to the shopping mall?” was a sensible; “twenty minutes”.

Ask the same question in the UK and the answer isn’t a matter of time, but of distance. It might be five miles to the shopping centre, but it could take you 15 minutes or an hour depending on the traffic.

And in Indonesia the answer is different again. It’s non committal. It could take you three hours or five hours. And this is dependent on a range of factors: the state of the road, which are only single lane; the number of mopeds that buzz around you; whether you get stuck behind a lorry. I frequently cast a furtive glance over the speedometer to reassure myself that we were going faster than 40 kph. Each time I was disappointed. This makes planning a trip quite difficult. Of course, we’d seen a map before we’d left, and made rough estimates of how long it would take us to do each leg of the journey. We even sought advice on how long it would take us to get from point A to point B. But then we choose to ignore it. After all, how could it possibly take us seven hours to drive 200km. We were so widely out on our estimations. So the lesson learnt is that, if travelling with young children, or even if you don’t want to be stuck in a car all day, listen to advice!

That said, I don’t think you can learn so much, or experience real life, without spending time on a road trip.

Today we drove from the plantations of Kalibaru, and hopped on a ferry to Bali. And all of a sudden life has changed. Where Java is predominately Muslim, Bali is predominately Hindu. The streets are lined with life and every second house is a temple. The architecture is absolutely stunning.

So I suppose the lesson is, even if the road you travel is long and winding, you’ve made a decision and, whether right or wrong, out of the decision you will be rewarded with new experiences, sights and sounds. And that’s what travelling is all about.

Ferry Crossing: Ferries leave every hour from Ketapang in Java to Gilimanuk in Bali, and the crossing takes just over an hour. Don’t expect luxury, but it’s a fun way to arrive on the Island. You can buy tickets very cheaply before you board.

Accommodation: The Westin, Nusa Dua, family suite. Superb five-star hotel with excellent children’s facilities and spa. www.westin.com/bali

Day 10
Another day spent in the car with the scenery whizzing past went surprisingly fleetingly with new sights to keep us entertained. When you set out for a day trip you’re searching for something. You want to learn something new, and the endeavour is about the destination. A day spent travelling is practically the reverse. Yes, you are heading to a final destination, but the journey is the point of the exercise and instead of searching for something, life comes to you. You couldn’t walk into a village with a list of today’s sights to tick off. We’ve seen horses being led at speed downhill by mopeds; trucks overfilled with sugar cane with half a dozen or so farm labourers bouncing on top; bikes carrying half a field of sugar cane or boxes of live chickens as big as a minivan; mopeds carrying beds; snails and spiders practically the size of a child’s fist; bamboo shoots as tall as a four storey house and landslides that have turned roads to mud baths. Although long drives can be frustrating, especially with young children, the cliché exists for a reason: it’s journey not the destination that matters.

This is a great area to explore the rural way of life, from the plantations to the farms. The children were fascinated to see cacao beans, with sticky white fruit inside, and peanuts growing underground, not on trees where monkeys could find them. We met one man whose job it was to shimmy up the palm trees, without a rope, to gather the sap for a special potent home brew. With incredible agility and speed, just using little cut outs in the trunk, he had climbed to the crown of the tree almost before I could get my lens cap off. When you're on the road you never know what you are going to see.

Tonight we’re staying tucked up in a small guesthouse deep in the forest, surrounded by the deafening sounds of crickets and rivers. The sides of the mountains are carpeted with coffee, tea, rubber and cacao plantations. It’s a petty place to end our Javanese tour. Tomorrow we drive to the ferry port at Ketapang and cross to Bali.

Accommodation: Margo Utomo Hill Side Resort. Beautiful infinity pool overlooking the mountains. Well-maintained gardens surround the simple but clean bungalow-style bedrooms. www.margoutomo.com

For centuries, people around the world have soaked, scrubbed and rubbed the day-to-day stresses away with massage. And with its long connection to this ancient practice, I find one of the spiritual homes of massage in Indonesia.

The source of Javanese massage comes from several places and so elements of this healing ritual are drawn together to create a unique experience. And those are two key words: healing and ritual. This is a physical and a spiritual experience. Relaxation is often the key to health, but other benefits include easing muscle and joint pain, improving circulation, and muscle tone, and so massage also becomes a beauty treatment.

So what is the secret recipe? Start with a mixing bowl and add ayurvedic medicine, a traditional medicine based on plants from the Indian Subcontinent, and then add ancient Chinese medicine. Then a sprinkle of Hindu religion and Buddism. Finally, introduce a drop of trade, brought by the winds on Arabian boats searching for spice.

Each massage experience is different, depending on who is looking after you, the ambience, the environment and the patient’s state of mind. It was a real sacrifice, but in the name of research I underwent two massages and gained two completely different experiences.

Apsara Spa, Hotel Tugu, Malang, Java
As soon as you cross the threshold of Hotel Tugu you step back a thousand years to be surrounded by the legend of the beautiful Cambodia dancing goddess, Apsara, and her love story with a Javanese prince. This is a tale of opposites, and the Javanese massage offered if based on this Yin and Yang.

Like waves, the ritual starts with a hot aromatic soak, which includes lemon, ginger and a larder of herbs. This is followed by lots of oil and a strong, deep tissue massage. Javanese methods mainly focus on the use of the thumbs to invigorate, while the Balinese offer a more relaxing approach, using the palm of the hand. Pushing and stroking techniques ease knots and tension from the muscles to aid post massage relaxation.

Westin Spa, Westin Hotel, Nusa Dua, Bali
If you are looking for a more dreamy experience, the eternal beauty ritual should not be missed. Originating from the royal palaces the Javanese lulur is an ancient ritual that leaves you drifting off to sleep. Each step leads you down into a complete state of relaxation, washing away the stresses of everyday life. Starting with a sandalwood body wash and a spice scrub, the highlight is a full-body massage that breaks down even a fisherman’s net of knots. And at the end of this two-hour pampering there is a soak in a milky bath decorated with candles and frangipani flowers. The only trouble is you’ll be so relaxed you’ll have trouble dragging yourself out of the bath.

Understanding the context and history of a type of massage only helps you to enjoy the experience more. Imagine yourself to be a princess in a palace, as you inhale the fragrances deeply, and try to carry the Zen-like state back with you to the real world.

The practical bit
·       Hotel Tugu, Malang: Apsara Herbal Massage, 60 mins, www.tuguhotels.com
·       Westin Hotels and Resorts, Bali: Eternal Beauty Ritual, 120 mins, www.westinnusaduabali.com

Day 9
We had hardly been in bed for two hours and we were hauling ourselves out again, the girls sleepy and disoriented. An early start was needed for this special trip, but I thought that meant 5am not 1am. That isn’t getting up early. That’s going to bed late.

So in the middle of the night we drove two hours to see a spectacular sunrise over Mount Bromo, complete with fog below the volcano, and steam rising above.

After a two hour drive into the mountains, we swapped our hire car and driver for a Jeep and a local Tengger driver. This is the only way to get to the top of Gunung Penanjakan. Not only is this entrepreneurism a way of earning a living, it helps keep the narrow, steep roads from getting clogged. A snake of Jeeps slithered its way around the switchbacks spitting us out at the summit where a crowd of a couple of hundred people had gathered to witness the new day. We vied and jostled for the best photographic positions, and once trigger fingers had snapped the unforgettable scene we headed to a wunung, or coffee shop, for an injection of caffeine and a packed breakfast.

The Jeep snake slipped and slithered down the other side of the mountain to the “sand sea”, the wide river bed at the base of the volcano created from the black ash spewed from the fiery mouth. Tribesmen on horseback offered rides, at a price, to the foot of the steep steps that took us right to the volcano’s rim, where we could peer inside into the smoky mouth of a sleeping dragon. Bromo is one of three volcanoes in this 10km crater, which also includes Kursi and Batok.  

With this bleak, almost baron moonscape, it is not surprising that, as mist clings to the sides of the volcano, legends surround Bromo. The Tengger believe Bromo was once part of a kingdom ruled by King Joko Seger and Queen Roro Anteng, who in desperation for a child, prayed to the god of the volcano. They bore 25 children, but the god demanded that the youngest, a son called Dian Kusuma, be sacrificed in return. When the Queen refused, the brave boy threw himself into the fire to save the kingdom. Today, people still throw dried flowers, food and money into the pit, but unfortunately, a few plastic bottle and waste items have started to find their way into the pit.

So what else could you ask for: tragic legends, stunning scenery and… of course, some sleep. It really is a trip worth doing, even if it’s an early start. The rest of the day was spent recovering. I didn’t really need an excuse, but a massage was a perfect way to do this. 

Day 8
Ten hours locked in a tin box on wheels with their children is more than any parent can take – apparently. My friends will know I’m particularly hard on our girls, but I have to say, with a little smarm, that it seems to be paying dividends. I could be wrong, and the fact that they have used a month’s iPhone time in one day, is what pacified them. But we all survived.

To break the journey we climbed the slopes of Gunung Lawu above Solo to explore a small temple. Candi Sukuh is known for its stunning location and erotic carvings, this time on show for all to see, leading to some interesting conversations with the girls. This isn’t a Hindu or Buddhist temple, and its origins and meaning are a bit of a mystery, even though it was only built in the 15th century. Even in the mist and rainclouds, the location was magnificent and the atmosphere intriguing – I’m sure the carvings had something to do with that.

The weather took a while to clear, but not before a massive downpour, which flooded the streets with a foot of muddy water. Cyclists and motorcycle riders braved the flooded roads like cap crusaders in their plastic ponchos on a mission. As suddenly as the rain started it stopped, the flood water disappeared and the roads were practically dry again.

Accommodation: Tugu Hotel, Malang. An historical gem with attention to detail. The hotel is a family-run business, and the owners have paid particular attention to antiques, practically turning the corridors and bedrooms into a user-friendly museum. www.tuguhotels.com

Day 7
A day of culture as we headed out to the famous 9th century Buddhist temple of Borobadur. Surrounded by beautiful forests and mountains, the temple had been hidden beneath vines, bushes and volcanic ash, until being rediscovered by the Indiana Jones of the Day, Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, our friend from Singapore, the then British Governor of Java. Intrigued by the Indonesian stories and rumours, he managed to uncover the ruins in 1814. Historians know little about why it was built or why it was abandoned.

Having had two or three rounds of renovations, it’s of course impossible to say how much of the site is original. Certainly parts have been removed or covered to adhere to current sensitivities. The monument’s six square platforms are decorated with more than 2,500 relief panels, some of which has been covered with plain blocks for being too sexually explicit. There are 504 statues of Buddha, 72 of which are seated inside perforated stupa, or mounds, resembling large bells.

To pay the due respect afforded by a temple of this status, we approached it from the east side and circumnavigated the structure three times clockwise, being rewarded with a different view at each level. Once a place of contemplation, it is on the outside of the temple that worshippers gathered – this is not a building in the traditional sense and there is no inside cavern or vestibule to visit.

With the sun beaming down, creating a steamy haze, we were forced to beat a retreat back to the air conditioning of our car by 11 o’clock. It’s worth visiting the temple early in the day, and dawn tours are popular – a little too much for us to manage with the children this time.

On the way back we planned our afternoon’s activities, but there is nothing as unpredictable as weather apparently. “Will it rain today?” is the question I asked our driver. “No. It’s the end of the rainy season.” Five minutes later the heavens opened, the roads turned into rivers and the mopeds were forced to find cover. Those who were hardy enough to venture out, gamely tried to negotiate water a foot deep in places, covering themselves only in a plastic bag.

But an hour after the rain stopped and the pavements were dry again, although the air was still thick with humidity. With an eight hour solid drive on tomorrow’s agenda, let’s hope our car is air conditioned.

Other things to try: stop at Borobadur Silver to see workshops and famous filigree jewellery.
Wander the markets and stop at Mirotar.

Day 6
I’m looking at my watch, while running down the road, backpack flying behind me. As I rush to meet the train it pulls into the station. With a sigh of relief I take my seat just at the same time as the train pulls away, loose my balance and fall over. But this isn’t the UK, USA or any other Western country, so this doesn’t happen.

Instead we arrive at the train station an hour before the departure time. We mill around until the train arrives 40 minutes before it’s due to leave. Porters carry packages and suitcases on their shoulders and heave them on the carriages. Then we settle ourselves and sit and wait. The train leaves five minutes early. By our Western standards we should have missed it.

It all sounds very organised and civilized, but this is an antiquated system and everything needs time to get going. After all it’s apparently going to take us eight hours to travel from Bandung to Yogyakarta. Like many things in Indonesia, the trains have seen better days, although they have progressed from steam. Attempts to keep the carriages clean are dubious and questionable – the man who has just mopped the toilet floors has now swabbed the passageway with the same mop – twice.

But the view from our window is inspiring. From the train window we are able to experience glimpses of life, not visible from a car, sprawled along the railway siding; lines of washing, muddy backyards, football pitches and little kiosks selling snacks. But it is the verdant countryside that is the real picture; tiered paddy fields, tumbling rivers, canyons spiked with willowy palms and banana trees, onion-domed mosques peeking above village roofs, cloud-topped mountains, ploughs pulled by ox. Life here is both simple and hard. It’s a long journey, but an interested and educational one. Taking an eight hour train journey with two small children sounded like a foolhardy idea – but it has been remarkably easy and pain free. Good practice for the ten hour car journey to come in two days time.

Accommodation: The Phoenix Hotel, Yogyakarta, central location by the Tugu Monument. Grand, elegant, fully of colonial history and great value. www.thephoenixyogya.com

Folklore is an inherent part of the Indonesian culture. It helps to explain a common thread that binds different religions, people from different ethnic origins, and backgrounds. It helps give reason to the breathtaking landscapes. It helps to give understanding to the question “why?”.

The legend of Sangkuriang may have dubious themes running through it when viewed with Western values, but it gives Indonesians a sense of belonging to the land. So let me tell you a little tale:

Day 5:
With a population of 240 million, living on 17,000 or more islands, Indonesia is the fourth most populated places on the planet, so it is little wonder that the roads are choked with cars, and most people have opted for mopeds as their chosen form of transport. It is also little wonder that people are also choking, with exhaust fumes. It’s a chaotic scene; scooters and bikes everywhere, laden with packets. Although motorcyclists wear helmets it appears that their passengers, often children perched between their legs, don’t.

Crossing the road is a skill to master. When we visited Vietnam a couple of years ago we stood nervously for a full five minutes before an old lady grabbed us by the wrist and dragged us into the continuous stream of traffic. Thinking we were being party to her suicide mission we were a little surprised to make it to the other side. The trick is to walk slowly. There is never a gap in the continuous flow of cars, bikes, motorcycles and rickshaws, so there is little point in waiting for one. If you decide to make a dash for it, you’ll probably end up as road kill, and simultaneously bring the city to a standstill. So a leap of faith is needed. Simply step off the kerb and pretend you are a boulder in a stream that the water is forced around. The traffic adjusts to you. Move too quickly and you’ll panic everyone into a pile up. The same is true here. There may be a zebra crossing, but it is only road decoration, and serves no practical purpose. Just remember to write your will first.

To get around there is little option but to go by road. Most of the interesting sights are difficult to get to, and even if you manage to find a taxi for your outwards trip, it is unlikely to be easy to find one for the return journey. The best option is to hire a car with a driver. Driving yourself requires an entirely new skillset.

Our first port of call was Tangkuban Parahu Natural Park, famous for its active volcanoes, 1,300m above sea level. Ten days ago the poisonous gases emitted by these craters forced the park to close. Today we were lucky. The road goes right to the edge of Kawah Ratu. 500m below you can see the steam escaping from a crack in the lava rock next to a sulphurous cloudy pool. Once you’ve hired a guide, you can walk through the forest to Kawah Domas, where you can stand next to the boiling water, and even boil and egg in three minutes. A little further down the crater, the water pools are cool enough to wash in, and people use the grey clay and ground up sulphur crystals to ease skin complaints.

Ciater, a short drive away, has a number of hotels and spas where you can bath in the hot springs, but while it’s always a pleasant surprise to walk into a swimming pool the same temperature as a bath, it’s far from a healthy rejuvenating experience. The hotels are a little run down and the water is full of bugs and debris. It’s definitely an experience worth having as long as you don’t have a spotlessly clean five star spa, garlanded with frangipani, in mind.

Our final stop was Saung Angklung Udjo, set up in 1966 as a “laboratory for art education” based on the Angklung, a traditional Indonesian bamboo instrument. This tourist show keeps the music and dance alive, and is a great introduction to customs and rituals. The Angklung is a one-note instrument, and when put together, with more than 30 players, an impressive orchestra of skill is formed. If you’re only playing one Angklung, you have to know the music well enough to know when to play your note. If you’re playing a couple of octaves, you have to be quick fingered and nimble. Participation is part of the show, and our girls thoroughly enjoyed playing with the local children, dressed in their colourful finery.