yo, so i just got back from this place called surabaya and my feet still hurt like i've been tap-dancing on gravel. first thing: i just checked and it's...that sticky 25 degrees with humidity making your clothes feel like a wet sock, hope you're into that kind of thing. pack *light clothes unless you enjoy sweating through your shirt every 10 minutes.

surabaya's like that one friend who's loud but surprisingly deep once you get past the noise. the traffic here? imagine bumper cars with no brakes and a side of existential dread. i heard that taking angkots (those minibuses) is like playing russian roulette with your schedule, but hey, it's cheaper than therapy.

if you get bored, malang’s just a short scooter ride away and the air’s so crisp you’ll forget you were wheezing through the city earlier. also, someone told me the best rujak (fruit salad) is served by this grandma who looks like she could bench-press a durian, but also warned me that the local food inspectors give her stall the side-eye. so maybe don't ask about the mystery pink sauce?

here's the map. good luck navigating juanda airport - it’s like a maze designed by someone who hates joy. but hey, the airport warung (food stall) sells nasi goreng that’ll make you forget you almost missed your flight.

"dude, skip the tourist trap tugu pahlawan. head to the hidden alley near the train station for bakso that’ll make your ancestors weep with envy."
- drunk guy at 2am

also, i overheard this gem: "the masjid cheng ho? pretty, but the dude selling prayer mats will try to sell you a ‘blessed’ coconut for $20. just bring your own." save that cash for es cendol instead - it’s basically slushy heaven in a cup.

pro tip: those hostels near the red light district? sketch but cheap. bring earplugs and a prayer. for real though, check yelp before booking, or you’ll wake up with bedbugs and existential dread. also, tripadvisor lies about ‘budget’ places - ‘budget’ here means ‘might collapse during monsoon.’

word of mouth: this local market called pasar atom? chaos in the best way. someone swore the ikan bakar* (grilled fish) there was sent from heaven, but also mumbled something about ‘occasional rogue chicken feet.’ your call.

surabaya’s messy, loud, and will steal your flip-flops, but it’s kinda perfect if you’re broke and brave. now if you’ll excuse me, i need to go nurse my blisters and rehydrate with about 20 es teh manis.

surabaya shuffle: surviving on instant noodles and questionable advice

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About the author: Nora Quinn

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