Indonesia Revisited....

Afternoon,

I forgot something when I was writing the Jakarta entry. I had the most bizarre taxi trip I have ever had.

On thursday morning Mr Marwin Ng (yep, that is how you spell his name...) of the rep company called me in my hotel and asked if I wanted to go for lunch in some restaurant down the road. As I am always up for some free grub I said yes. He told me that he would send someone to pick me up from the hotel. At 12 there will be somebody there to pick you up. OK, no worries, 12 o'clock in reception.

I get down there at 12 and the bellboy of the hotel points to a car and says there is your ride. I get in, this guy drives off. He drives, further, further and further. Suddenly I realise we are on the road to the airport. I try asking the guy where the hell we are going but he only speaks hurgy-flurgy so no luck there. He just keeps smiling and saying sorry sorry... strange....

So we actually get to Soekarno Hatta, the international airport for Jakarta. The guy stops, opens the car door and points to some door. By this time I am pretty much confused, maybe Marwin wants to have dinner at the airport. As soon as I get out the taxi driver slams the door and tears away. Hmmm.... this is starting to look strange... Luckily I have my cell phone with me and I call Amir, Marwin's dad as that is the only number I have with me. I tell him, I am at the airport, where is Marwin? He goes, -Why are you at the airport? -Well, your driver took me here. -No he didn't, he is still waiting for you at the hotel! Fuck buggery bollocks.... So I tell Amir that I will go back to Jakarta and I will see him that evening for dinner. So there I am, I am at the airport, I haven't got any ID on me, not much cash and no creditcards, brilliant.

So I jump in a taxi to get back to town. At least this taxi driver, Sirot, spoke a bit of english, well, at least enough to laugh his head off at me.... As we are cruising down the toll motorway to get back to Jakarta there is a hold up at the toll gates. My taxidriver stops, unfortunately the woman driver behind him doesn't. She slams into the back of this crappy Datsun with her huge 4 by 4. A lot of bits fall of the Datsun and the cab driver is out of his car in a jiffy. He starts shouting and screaming at this lady in the 4 by 4 and she calls the police. Great. I am sitting in the back of the cab, am the only foreigner there and I am not arrying my ID... this is not turning out to be a good day for me.

Luckily after an hour of talking between the pigs, the woman driver and the cabbie all seems to be sorted and finally after 3 hours I am back in my hotel. ( I just kept quiet in the back of the cab because when the pigs see a foreigner at a car crash you normally end up getting stung for money... I guess they missed me...) What a mess...

Later that evening Marwin, Amir his dad and myself have a good laugh at it all over 49 beers. What puzzles me is Who was that cab for? It must have been a private cab as I didn't pay the guy?!?!?! So someone must have missed their free cab and possibly their flite as their ride to the airport was hijacked by me. Never mind, some you win, some you lose...

I guess the moral of the story is check your ride before you get in...

Taraa,

Alex.