View. The chandeliers hanging on the double caisson wells with wooden structure seem to vibrate slightly with the chirping of insects, and the Javanese people on the decorative paintings on the surrounding walls seem to be walking down the walls. The old phone database floor creaked, and the three-way mirrors were full of shadows. The uninvited bird by the window came again, calling seven times at a time, each with two syllables, a kind of "squeaky" sound when pushing the door. The cicadas roared ceaselessly, accompanied by the prayers of Muslims in several
villages that echoed in the valley, sometimes high-pitched and mournful, sometimes joking, as if besieged on all sides. I didn't close my eyes all night. IMG_6732 Photo Credit: Huang Zhaojing Side view of Villa Morabi. The villa is the former residence of the former owner of the villa, and the interior is made up of the remnants of many old Javanese houses. In the morning, I simply went directly to the coffee plantation tour arranged by the villa to take a look at this mysterious garden. Passing through the coffee trees in the mountains in the morning fog, picking a few snake fruits for breakfast along the way,
sitting next to the traditional carbon wood roasted coffee stove, looking at the green terraced fields at the bottom of the mountain, chewing and swallowing a few roasted coffee with palm sugar Beans, have spirit again. Tourists drink Kopi Tubruk coffee. After the coffee beans are fried, they are ground with a wooden pestle in a stone mortar, and then the powder is boiled in boiling water, or directly added to boiling water and allowed to settle. Java people drink a sip of coffee and have to measure the next sip, so as not to leave a sip. In 1922, a young Dutchman,