Cambodia has Angkor Wat. Mexico has Chichen-Itza. The UK has Watford. And Indonesia has Borobudur. Java's, indeed Indonesia's, most popular tourist attraction is near the city of Yogyakarta, in the shadow of a couple of muttering volcanoes, and amongst large tracts of steaming jungle - a spectacular setting for ancient Borobudur.

The site itself is a Buddhist temple complex, built around 800-900AD. Subsequently, ash from volcanoes buried it for centuries, only for it to be rediscovered during Dutch colonial times, and restored. It is apparently best viewed at sunrise, necessitating a painful, but worthwhile, 4am alarm call. As the early morning light lit up the clouds and stones, and the mist rose up from the surrounding jungle, you could see why millions of people come here every year. Closing your eyes, you can imagine what it would have been like 1200 years ago, when chanting, shaven-headed monks, severed the heads of sacred chickens with shards of dried and hardened coconut shell, spraying blood over the Holy Walrus of Java, in the hope of ensuring another fertile wet season (NB historical detail to be confirmed).

Nearby is another temple complex, called Prambanan. Although not as spectacular as Borobudur, it is still impressive, and demonstrates the syncretism of the region's religions, combining Hindu and Buddhist symbols. In 2006, an earthquake devastated the area, killing thousands, leaving tens of thousands homeless, and destroying much of the site, which brings millions of dollars of tourist revenue into the region every year. Amazingly, many of the structures have been repaired, although there still remains a great deal of masonry strewn about the place, awaiting rebuilding.

We stayed at a stunning hotel overlooking Borobudur, called Aman Jiwo. Every Tuesday, the Aman Jiwo staff and guests play the local village team at football. Since the foundation stone of Borobudur was laid in 827AD, this match has been played, the weekly confrontation remaining unaffected by political turmoil, natural disaster, or war. And every fixture has had the same result....a win for the villagers. 1200 years of losses had taken its toll on the Aman Jiwo staff and guests. And heads were beginning to drop.

Last Tuesday, like any other, saw the teams line up again, as usual. The villagers were confident of recording their 62,213th consecutive win. But this time was different. Because this time, lining up for the Aman Jiwo staff and guests, was a blond-haired defensive colossus whose knowledge of the offside trap, and whose tediously unadventurous footballing nature, and unhealthy craving for goalless draws, would strike fear into the hearts of the attack-minded villagers, who for so many centuries had run amok through the Aman Jiwo staff and guest defensive line.

This player, who one guest mentioned looked like Rod Stewart, ruthlessly marshalled the Aman Jiwo defensive unit, constantly screaming at his teammates to maintain a structural integrity that saw the villagers caught offside time and time again. This tactic was combined with a dour approach to possession that saw long, pointless balls pumped deep into the villagers' half, eating into the time remaining, running down the clock. The game was ugly and lacked any flow to it....but then again, when was the last time a team was awarded a victory in a football match for the beauty of its play, the amount of possession it held, or the overall attractiveness of its approach? This isn't ballet or opera, for goodness sake. This is about not conceding goals, in order to secure a 0-0 draw.

As the remaining time slipped by, the prospect of Aman Jiwo securing such a priceless draw, instead of its usual loss, became increasingly prominent. If this joyless, soul-destroying, defensive footballing travesty was the price to be paid for securing such a result, then so be it. And if, in doing so, the blond-haired master of sporting tedium earned the loathing of opponents and teammates alike, then, again, so be it, because sport is not about making friends; it's about getting a result.

Then, with 10 mins left, the unthinkable happened. Another pointless punt forward from the back towards the villagers' left back held up before the corner flag - a scrambled cross from the right was fumbled by the villagers' goalkeeper, into the path of the onrushing Aman Jiwo centre forward. His first shot was saved, but his second was scooped over the out-of-position goalie, and it bounced slowly into the unguarded net.

The goal was met with incredulity - the last time Aman Jiwo had even scored in the fixture was in November 1396 (they lost 1-4). Wild Aman Jiwo celebrations were balanced by the stunned reactions of the villagers. Play recommenced, and the villagers threw everything they had at Aman Jiwo, in a desperate attempt to at least secure the equaliser. Leaving gaps at the back, they allowed Aman Jiwo space, and in only their second attack, the guests and staff sensationally scored again, this time with a near post header from a Venezuelan guest, again from a right wing cross.

Shortly afterwards, the referee blew for full time, and the incredible, unprecedented 2-0 win for Aman Jiwo was confirmed. To say that it sent out shockwaves was an understatement. The President of Indonesia was interrupted in a cabinet meeting to be informed, and most other leaders across Southeast Asia knew about it within 30 minutes of the final whistle etc etc.....