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At dawn, as the morning sun burns away the fog, the volcanoes of central Java appear out of the mists. To the west rise the giants Sumbing and Sundoro. Northward broods Ungaran. To the south loom Telomoyo and Merbabu, and, lurking behind these, the smouldering Merapi.

From my vantage on the wide veranda of the Losari Coffee Plantation Resort and Spa, the forests of central Java emerge lush and green. I hear the roar of cicadas and see swallows swoop and dive above the treetops. In the bright light, the volcanoes that surround me appear surprisingly benign. They resemble giant Buddhas -- mute, patiently waiting for the universe to unfold.

This small corner of the planet is a vortex of antiquity and power. Only a few kilometres southeast of here lies Sangiran village, where one-million-year-old fossil remains of "Java men" have been excavated. Near the city of Yogyakarta, an hour's drive or less to the west of Sangiran, is the sprawling mandala stupa Borobudur, which many Buddhists regard as the navel of the cosmos. And near Yogyakarta, there is the low hill called Bukit Tidar, the "nail" driven into Java's midpoint that is said to fix the great island to the centre of the Earth. I imagine the whole of Java spinning round this hub, the towering volcanoes wheeling, and I feel a little dizzy.

With a fresh cup of Losari-grown coffee I settle into a lounge chair and absorb this panorama. Seeking a quiet week free of the noise and chaos of Jakarta, I boarded a one-hour flight to Yogyakarta and then rented a car and driver for the two-hour journey north to Losari, located in the heartland of Javanese history and culture.

Losari is a Javanese word that means "essence of the trees." At the edge of the small highland village of the same name, the plantation sprawls across 22 hectares of lush hillside. Its delicious robusta coffee benefits from the coolness of the 900-metre elevation. Attached to the plantation is a luxury hotel and spa that, while providing every modern amenity, also echoes the traditional style of Java. Guests are welcomed to villas that are transplanted and restored family homes -- in some cases, the homes of Javanese royalty.

On foot, I set out from the reception pavilion, an old railway station restored and installed in front of Losari's main gate. A narrow path draws me past a small secluded mosque and directly into the coffee fields. The low bushes with their Christmas-red cherries -- coffee, I remember, is a fruit -- occupy seemingly every corner of the property. On this day, the beans are still unripe and not yet ready for harvest.

Along the path, I bump into Eko Yulianto, a local horticulturist and traditional herbalist. Hearing that my raucous Jakarta sendoff has left me with a mild hangover, Yulianto leads me along to his jamu stand and its trays of remedies: turmeric, cardamom, chili peppers, and various types of ginger root. He concocts a tall glass of a bitter yellowish drink heavy with ginger and other spices that instantly makes me feel better. Later, after an afternoon that passes too quickly, I relax in an armchair and enjoy the tinkling gamelan sounds that drift up the slope.

The next morning I launch out, before dawn, to make the short drive to one of Java's most neglected yet most spectacular sites.

Gedung Songo, which means "nine buildings," lies in the foothills of the volcano Ungaran, about 20 kilometres north of Losari. On the ridges flanking a wide natural amphitheatre, this delicate necklace of small Hindu temples was erected during the eighth century. These shrines, set near bubbling hot springs, were dedicated to Shiva and Vishnu. Only five buildings survive in good condition.

I hike the easy path up the slope. Banks of cold grey fog roll over the mountain and tumble into the valley. The bowl of land is well terraced, but few plots are being cultivated and the landscape has a lonely, haunted look. One by one, the temples drift into view. The monuments were long ago looted of their ornaments but I am pleased to find images of a yoni (a Hindu symbol of femininity), a barong (knife), and the god Ganesha. The sun comes out and brightens the hibiscus, the tall pines, the rose gardens.

I ascend to the highest temples, at 1,800 metres. Here, the stirring promise of Gedung Songo is fulfilled in a volcanic panorama of Merbabu and Merapi, Sundoro and Sumbing. It resembles a cinematic backdrop of primeval landscapes.

At the summit, I meet a family that has camped overnight to wait for the dawn. They are observing Sura, the Javanese new year, when people meditate at high, holy, or haunted places, and pray for good fortune. They are Muslims visiting a Hindu site to carry out a so-called "animistic" ritual. Such is modern Indonesia, where faiths mingle, and where religious freedom and tolerance are everyday realities. The horrific bombings in recent years, in Bali and in Jakarta, have given Indonesia a terrible image around the world, but almost all Indonesians are appalled by these atrocities committed by extremists.

My driver and guide for the day, Priyani (who like many Indonesians uses only one name), tells me that he is a Muslim educated in Catholic schools. He calls himself a Sufi, but jokes that this is "so that I am allowed to drink beer." He says Indonesia enjoys "gado-gado religion," referring to the country's traditional dish of mixed vegetables topped by peanut sauce. "It's the sauce," he says, "that provides the harmony."

In central Java and Yogyakarta, faith operates in a kind of free and teeming marketplace. The old royal city of Solo, or Surakarta, is an important centre of Islamic scholarship and teaching. At Rawaseneng, a Trappist monastery has been welcoming travellers for 50 years. Under coconut palms and banyan trees, Magelang's ancient temple Candi Mendut inspires the new Theravada Buddhist monastery next door. And on the south coast, the mystic Parangtritis beach is home to the ancient Javanese cult of the Queen of the South Seas.

Even though it threatens all of this -- or perhaps because it does so -- the volcano Merapi remains a locus of spiritual energy. The "fire mountain" is one of the most active and dangerous in the world. Smoke pours constantly from its 2,911-metre high crater. As recently as 1994, an eruption killed 62 people.

Java's ultimate spiritual landmark, however, is Borobudur. Built during the eighth and ninth centuries and soon after abandoned, the "Buddhist monastery on the hill" is an enigma. After years of archeology and scholarly investigation, the meaning of this processional, stepped pyramid has yet to be clarified. The sheer scale of Borobudur boggles the mind. It is constructed of one million stone blocks. It contains 504 images of the Buddha, and its 1,460 narrative reliefs, telling the story of the Buddha's life, are displayed in four tiers of galleries that stretch for 2,500 metres.

The next morning, I drive the 70 kilometres south from Losari to Borobudur -- but decide to postpone visiting the monument itself. Instead I make for the conservation offices which are on the same grounds. The monument -- a World Heritage site -- is continually being restored. Suprijono, the head conservationist, explains how he and his staff use photogrammetry and models to figure out which block goes where, and then use glue and bolts to fit the block into place. He leads me to a yard filled with 11,000 wayward blocks recovered from local gardens, walls, and roadways. Each piece, labelled, awaits the detective work that might one day locate its original position in the flanks of the monument. The enclosure filled with homeless stone fragments makes for a poignant image -- an archeological refugee camp.

The following morning I arise at 4 a.m. in order to arrive at Borobudur well before sunrise. I use a flashlight to guide my way up the narrow steps to the highest gallery -- in Buddhist lore the representation of nirvana. Surrounded by the silence of the early morning, I sit on the parapet and await the sun.

After a time a rooster crows. In the distance, a motorcycle starts up. The eastern sky glows. Soon, the silhouette of Merapi appears. From its summit, a long horizontal plume of white smoke trails southward, like a pennant flying from the mainmast of some medieval galleon. Out of the mists, morning swallows appear by the thousands.

As light fills the plain, I become more conscious of the dark mass of Borobudur itself. The pedestal beneath my feet, it is said, is the eighth wonder of the Orient. Every person, it is said, ought to visit the monument once during a lifetime. I ask myself: What exalted emotions should I be feeling, now, at this special moment? Here I am, after all, standing at the centre of the universe. My meditations ought to be sublime. But my only thought is a simple one: At this moment, I feel very fortunate.

Patrick Kavanagh is a Newfoundlander who lived in Indonesia from 2000 to 2003. This November Cormorant Books will reissue his 1997 novel Gaff Topsails

Pack your bags

GETTING THERE

The main centres of Central Java are the cities of Yogyakarta, Semarang, and Solo (Surakarta). All enjoy good air and rail connections from Jakarta. The flight from Jakarta takes about an hour, the train journey about eight hours. As well, there are one-hour air links from the island of Bali. The national flag carrier, handling both domestic and international flights, is Garuda Indonesia: http://www.garuda-indonesia.com ; 416-924-3175 (in Toronto). Several smaller airlines, including Merpati, Bouraq, and Mandala, also serve domestic traffic to Central Java.

WHERE TO STAY

Losari Coffee Plantation:

http://www.losaricoffeeplantation.com; 62 (298) 592696. The plantation is a drive of two hours or less from the central cities of Semarang, Solo, and Yogyakarta. (The resort can arrange pickup).

Daily rates start at around $315 $250 US for a two-person luxury villa. The resort's amenities include a new hamam, or spa, spring-fed swimming pool and Turkish steambath, three splendid restaurants and an arts and crafts gallery, and yoga and meditation facilities.

WHAT TO DO

Queen of the Mountain: A 1902 cog-wheel steam train has been restored and offers nine-kilometre tourist runs between Bedono, near Losari, and the locomotive museum at Ambarawa. For more information, call the museum at 62 (298) 91035 or ask at Losari.

Gedung Songo: Go early in the morning to catch the splendid dawn flower market at Bandungan along the way. At Gedung Songo the loop can be hiked easily in two hours, but you may want to take more time and savour the site. Horses are available for hire.

Trappist Monastery: Santa Maria Rawaseneng, or Saint Mary of the Blessed Marsh, is near the town of Temanggung. The monks welcome all guests, but you can call ahead: 62 (293) 93652.

Candi Mendut: Combine a tour of this important Buddhist temple in Magelang with a visit to the peaceful monastery next door. For more information, call 62 (293) 788 236.

Borobudur: Any hotel or travel agent in central Java and Yogyakarta area will have information about visiting Borobudur. If you wish to know more about the study and conservation program and about the continuing restoration, phone (62) 293-788175 or e-mail balai_brb@magelang.wasantara.net.id.

MORE INFORMATION

A fine introduction to Bobobudur is the paperback The Lost Temple of Java, by Phil Grabsky.

Useful websites about travelling to Indonesia include expat.or.id, http://www.soegondo.com and

http://www.tourismindonesia.com.