To get to Cibodas, I had to take a minibus from Bogor. I took what appeared to be the last seat on the bus and it wasn't a comfortable one. It was higher than the other seats so that I had to bend forward to keep my head below the ceiling. After 20 minutes of waiting, an old woman got on even though there didn't appear to be any seats. People rearranged to fit her in and I was able to ditch my high chair for a more comfortable spot. After another half hour of waiting, the old woman started yelling at the guy in charge of the bus, I assume saying that we should leave. It didn't do any good. Eventually, one more passenger showed up and everyone rearranged again to squeeze him in. Finally, the guy in charge was satisfied that the bus was full and we left. Along the way, we picked up yet another passenger who had to contort himself to be able to close the door.
Traffic seemed endlessly snarled and progress was slow. Apparently, the way these minibuses work is that there are no predefined stops. Whenever you want to get off you yell at the driver. The problem is that I had no idea what Cibodas looked like. I had been counting the towns that we went through and when I thought we were a couple of towns away, I started asking the other passengers, as best I could where Cibodas was. They started pointing back the direction we had come, so I decided to get off the bus. I figured out that I was in Cipanas, one town over from where I wanted to be. I tried to find the bus station, but I was told, I think, that there was no bus station. My travel guidebook didn't contain a map of Cipanas, so I was walking around blind.
I stopped to get a bite to eat at a restaurant, but I couldn't read a word on the menu. I just pointed to one of the options at random and the waiter just shook his head. I tried to ask him to bring out whatever, but it wasn't working. He went and got a lady who spoke English, my savior. Not only was I able to order food, she also told me that to get to Cibodas, I had to flag down one of the blue cars driving by on the road and that would get me to the market. From there I would have to look for a yellow car that had "Cibodas" written on it. After I ate, I gave the woman a big tip, took the prescribed route and made it to Cibodas. Just as I got out of the car it started pouring rain. I wandered around and got soaking wet, but eventually I made it to the house I was supposed to stay at.
The gentleman there asked me what I was planning on doing the next day and when I told him I was going to hike in the national park, he told me that it would be closed because it was the end of Ramadan and therefore was a holiday. He said it might also be closed the next day if it rained. That night I was contemplating what to do when I remembered that to do the hike I wanted, I had to register at the park office the day before because I would have to head out for the hike at 2AM to be at the top before the clouds rolled in. Since the park was closed the next day, I couldn't register and I would have to wait two days, which was too long. I decided to just do the humongous high altitude gardens, which were open, and then head on.