I woke a little later than I had planned and so by the time I was packed and ready to go I had missed the free breakfast in the hostel and also had no chance to visit anywhere else in the city as I had to check out by 10am and this would then mean carrying around my rucksack with me, not the best idea in the world.
Luckily the MRT station is close by and only a few stops away from Changi Airport, so the journey was very quick. So quick in fact that I arrived shortly before the checkin desk was open for my flight and thus I had a little time to spare to eat breakfast and utilise the free wifi in the airport. As I rechecked my tickets I had a heart wrenching moment when I saw that the time for my flight was originally posted at 11am and not 1:35pm and unable to find an email to say why the chance it was a nervous hour that went by before I was able to head on over to the check in desk and thankfully I had not missed it and was one of the first to check in and so I chose a window seat.
The rest of my stop is Changi Airport was relaxed as I had time enough to change over money, have breakfast and do a bit of internet surfing. The Indonesian Rupiah is one of those currencies that I hate, as it has far too many zero's for common sense, making quick and accurate currency conversions in my head a nightmare. For instance a bar or chocolate costs 25,000, a taxi fare cost between 15,000 and 150,000 depending on if its a few miuntes of almost an hour, but what is a good price and how much should a person haggle.
The actual conversion rate, at todays value, is £1 = IDR 16,466.29 so for an extremely rough guide I was thinking to myself that a IDR 50,000 note is approximately £5 ( I know, its actually a lot closer to £3 ) and it also meant that if I tipped anyone a with a IDR 1,000 note it really isn't giving them all that much.
I almost thought that I was going to board the plane without my hand luggage being screen checked but then I noticed that the scanners were right inside the gate departure lounge entrances, which is better I guess. There was no huge sign or tanoy announcement for the inital boarding of my flight and so I assumed that there must have been some minor delay and continued surfing the web til I heard my name called out as one of the final chances to board the flight and realised my error.
On the one hand it was nice to hear my name called out at an airport but then it also meant that I was being a pain and delaying the pre-flight check procedure so I don't plan on making it a habit.
Flying over we were given out imigration and visa cards to fill in, but I had heard form D' that I would probably have to pay for a visa too, which luckily you can buy at the airport at the same price as you can at the embassy, US $25 for a 30 day visa or US $10 for up to 7 days. I was planning to stay for around 10 days so I had to plump for the full 30 days, but then its not all that much money really.
Arriving to the island of Java I could not help but see how much of the land by the shoreline was flooded and as it was so much I thought that it must be organised somehow, as in like the rice paddies and such.
Just before you reach the immigration desk in the aiport off to my left side was an office kiosk where you had to go to one booth to pay for your entry visa and then at another to have it authorised, mindless time consuming in my opinion but there you go.
I am not sure if it is a government law, like paying taxes, or a natural law, like gravity, but the aiport shuttle coaches leaving do not seem to be allowed to leave until they are full. The cost was a mere 20,000 IDR so it is not expensive, but the fact that the coach would only move about 20 yards before stopping and waiting for more passengers was enough to get me pissed off, especially as it took over half an hour just to leave the terminal complex. I could have taken a taxi I guess but that would have been more like 150,000 and judging for the look of them it would not have been any more safe or confortable.
When we finally were able to leave the airport terminal we drove towards the downtown area and I could not help but notice how poor and broken down the place looked. It was like a flooded version of some of the desert towns of South America. Field upon field was flooded by the ocea waters, deep enough for it to be unsafe for people to walk safely and yet by the edges on raised mud banks I saw countless locals fishing with rods or casting nets, yet I am not entirely sure if I would want to eat anything they caught in those waters.
With floods and stagnant waters would also mean that there must be plenty of mosquitos around too, not my favourite of insects and I wonder if Dangay fever was becoming an epidemic here like it is threatening to break out in parts of Australia or Singapore. Signs like "If they Breed you will Bleed"got the message over pretty loud and clear.
Fare from being surprised or uspet the locals seemed to take it all in their stride and I wonder if parts of the town are deliberately allowed to flood in order to save other parts of the city and of course also to help the locals to feed themselves.
After what seemed like ages we finally managed to reach the coach station where my instructions were to then get a taxi to the hostel cottage and I was only hoping that when I reached there it was not one of the properties floating or on stilts like I had seen along the motorway.
My internet booking also told me that the fare should be around 20,000 to 25,000 for the taxi fare at the other end, but when I asked a taxi driver he quoted me 45,000 and I am not really sure that he even knew where I was going. I decided to play him at his own game and waving my hostel booking prinout around loudly I argued that it should be no more than 15,000, desite that being the outdated price for a tuk-tuk and not a modern taxi. He didnt exactly fall for it, but on the end we settled on a 4,000 tax receipt and a minimum fare of 20,000 which was still 5,000 more than the meter showed when we finally reache our destination though I have no doubts in my mind that if I had just told him to put the meter on he would have taken me all around the houses and clocked up at least 35,000 if not more.
The sad thing is that even if it had reached 50,000 that would still have been only about £3 for me, but its the haggling and not letting them get away with overcharing and ripping off tourists that was why I was making my stand, not for the sake of saving £1 ... I am not that hard up, yet.
The taxi driver did finally manage to find the hostel only he had no change from my 50,000 note and so he waited for me to go into the hostel and hopefully they could help me out. Only thing was, no one was hone or answering the phone and so not only could I not given him his change, but I could also not check in. There was a bank across the road but they were closed to the public, despite being only about 4pm, so in the end I had to go to the stationers next door and finally get change to give the taxi driver.
By this time I was nervous about the flooding, the mosquitos, the money, the sky that was threatening to rain down yet again and now being unable to check in thus I was in effect stranded in a foreign country where they do not speak much Engilsh and I was rapidly losing the good mood that I had started the day off with.
Not having the phone number of my friend here in Jakarta, I decided to just find the nearest hotel and checkin and then try to contact her via email and see if she could meet me that night and pretty soon I found a hotel called the Acacia which looked like a nice but inexpensive 3 or 4 star, possibly even a very cheap 5 star who knows. The price was around US $66 for a night and this seemed reasonable considering how big it was and how desperate I was feeling, so I agreed and checked in for 2 nights, unsure what I would do fo the third til I had got to speak to my friend.
Much like Brazil, I soon realised that Jakarta was a place that really needs a lot of time to explore properly and also a traveller would do well to research it before, as being the worlds 11th largest metropolis in the world it can be very daunting, overpowering and of course large enough to have it very good and very bad parts in equal measure.
The hotel did not have much in the way of tourist informatoin on offer, but perhaps if I spoke Indonesian I could get some more information or find out if there was a tourist office nearby.
To continue treating myself and unwind I chose to have a basking hot bath and was amused and happily soaked myself while through the in hotel radio system someone played a piano melody of the immortal classic "singing in the rain", which pretty much summed up my mood at that moment, in fact I even managed to drag up most of the lyrics from memory.
After a movie, a room service meal of fish and chips ( hopefully not 'freshly' caught from the flooded fields less than five minutes away ) and a shave I felt good enough to try the hotel karioke lounge, only to find that it had five pretty singers all sitting around the bar bored and no actual singing going on. Apparently you could emply one or more of the girls for free to sing with you, if you hired out one of the private rooms and of course paid for their drinks as well as your own while you were up there.
With not hearing from my friend all day, I sat and chatted to the singers for a bit before heading on back to my room and treating myself to a relaxing inroom massage for the princely price of IDR 145,000 or £9 ... unbelievable.
Tomorrow is a new day, and although the predicted rain and lack of tourist information will mean that I doubt I will get up to too much tomorrow, but for these prices I could almost hire a taxi driver for the day and have him act as my guide for the day and still spend less than I would have if I took a organised tour in another country.
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