So the final leg of our epic backpacking adventure of South East Asia was Indonesia.  After five days in flash Singapore we caught a morning ferry on 25 May from the Harbour front to the Indonesian island of Batam.  Leaving the stunning Singapore skyline behind we dodged container ships and fishing vessels in the Melaka straits, and after about an hour’s ferry ride we arrived at the immigration office to get our 30 day visa.  Thinking that our arrival day is Day 0 as it was with most visas, we found out after being stamped in that arrival day is in actual fact Day 1.  With our planned departure date of 24 June we were going to be overstaying our welcome slightly, with a penalty of either a fine (best case scenario) or jail time!  Not wanting to experience that, we decided that we would try either to extend our visas or try changing our flights to an earlier date, but more on that later.  I had a funny feeling while in Singapore that we should have stayed an extra night, but we were tired of the demented wailings coming from the ground floor of our abode and decided to leave on our planned date anyway.  Oh well, they say hindsight is an exact science.

After arriving on Batam we caught a rickety local bus to the “suburb” of Tiban Kampung where our booked homestay was located.  Once dropped off at the bus stop, our navigational device just decided to stop working so off we started walking, trudging along the main road in the direction we thought we needed to go.  As luck would have it, we had walked about one kilometre, when a friendly local with family and all in the car stopped alongside us and offered to take us where we needed to go.  He even phoned the homestay owner to get the proper directions.  All because he’s Christian he said (implying that the mostly Muslim population wouldn’t be so helpful!).  So our Good Samaritan dropped us at our lodgings and we settled in with a promise we would call him, because he just happened to be a taxi driver too.  Our homestay was much better than the hovel in Singapore, with a friendly proprietoress who made us feel very welcome.  It was quite a shock though to see so much litter lying around after having walked along the pristine streets of Singapore.  After a quick recce around the neighbourhood and a delicious lunch at a roadside eatery, we headed to the ferry terminal to check out prices and routes to Sumatra.  Unfortunately the prices were ridiculous and the ferries weren’t going in the direction we needed to be heading.  Hmmm, we didn’t believe the flashpackers we had spoken to along the way when they told us it was cheaper to fly around Indonesia, rather than travel by bus or boat.  We willingly admit they were right!  So off we toddle back to town and our homestay to sort out a flight.  To book two tickets to Jakarta ended up being cheaper going through an agent than booking online direct with the airline!  We spent the rest of our two days on Batam just chilling around waiting for the flight.  There was not much to see on that island and the useless guidebook didn’t shed much light on the area either.  It seemed to us that people either didn’t want to share, or there was not much information to be shared, about Indonesia as advice and recommendations were sadly lacking for the country in general.  One thing we did find though that good food was easy to find, with our most expensive meal on Batam being the equivalent of USD3 for both of us, including drink (our cheapest meal for both of us so far has been USD1.50 including drinks!).

After three nights on Batam, we caught a low cost airline flight to Jakarta on LionAir.  Poor Rob had to suffer with absolutely no legroom for the two hour flight but it was better than an eight hour ferry ride, followed by a ten-plus hour bus ride, to get there.  Before boarding, there was absolute chaos as nobody queued up to hand in their boarding passes.  We had height on our side as most Indonesians basically came up to our shoulders.  All we had to do was lean forward and force our way through the throng to hand in our passes.  The view of the ocean was fantastic as we took off, with the sun directly above us it illuminated the reefs surrounding the islands, making the sight picture perfect.  As soon as we landed, we visited the Singapore Airlines offices in the airport terminal to try and change our flight home but their systems were down and they couldn’t help us.  We got the details for their offices in town which we planned to visit the next day.  After suffering through loads of traffic to get into the city, we were dropped off at the closest station and walked the two kilometres to the backpacker area and our guesthouse.  There were tons of mozzies around, unusual for a city, but considering the streets seemed to have been recently flooded, with sodden sandbags lining the streets, I guess all the water lying around attracted them.  The next morning was spent trying to find our way to the office block where Singapore Airlines had their main branch but as soon as we arrived we saw the office was closed due to Ascension Day.  We found it quite ironic that a Muslim country was celebrating a Christian holiday.  Surely the girls at the airport could have told us the office would be closed?  We made our way back to the guesthouse to fetch the camera and headed off to the National Monument and surrounding park which was filled with locals enjoying a day out.  We noticed lots of riff raff, and tons of litter, it was a real dump!  Hoping to see some Dutch architecture we made our way up by local bus to the Old District but it was completely run down and not worth the small expense of the bus ticket!

We spent another day of wandering around Jakarta trying to get our flights sorted, which had us first going back to Singapore Airlines who couldn’t help us because I booked the ticket using frequent flier miles from South African Airways.  So we were directed to the SAA offices located on the other side of town.  After arriving there, hot and sweaty from a long walk, we were informed that their office computer system was not linked to the frequent flier programme!  We ended up having to buy airtime to phone the Johannesburg office, and halfway through changing the booking I ran out of airtime!  Frustration!  Another walk down the road to buy more airtime, and another phone call later and we had success in changing our flights to an earlier date!  Relief was apparent as we enjoyed a drink to celebrate the fact we wouldn’t be fined or be going to jail for overstaying our visa!

The following day we caught the train to Yogyakarta, a city about midway through the island of Java.  On our journey we were lucky enough to spot our first volcano surrounded by what was really beautiful countryside compared to the urban dirt of Jakarta.  Upon arrival, we walked to our guesthouse which again the guidebook failed to mention was directly under the flight path of jets on their final approach for landing, as well as near the disco or karoake bars nearby which go on into the early hours!  Our time in Yogyakarta was spent wandering around the Kraton, a compound still inhabited by the Sultan (Sultan of what we’re not sure) and taking a tour to the nearby Borobudur temple.  On our way to the temple we passed another volcano, which judging by the smoke coming from its crater, is still very active!  Borobudur is said to be the largest Buddhist temple in the world.  A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the main temple is built in three tiers, the middle tier containing circular platforms on which lie 72 open stupas (bell shaped structures), each containing a statue of the Buddha.  As an active religious site, we were required to wear sarongs to cover our legs as a sign of respect.  But you know times have changed when you see a Buddhist monk wandering around a temple in his crocs, clutching an iPad taking selfies of himself!

At the beginning of June we caught a bus from Yogyakarta to Denpasar, and after a harrowing 18 hour journey, we arrived in Bali, thankful to still be alive to tell the tale of the scariest bus drive we have ever experienced.  Having two drivers on rotation, the first young man was quite sedate as we travelled along the narrow roads out of town and on to the national highway.  Feeling quite comfortable in our front row seats we were able to enjoy the scenery while there was still daylight.  We quite enjoyed the first part of this trip, receiving snacks to munch on before stopping for a complimentary dinner.  It was when darkness came that Whiskers took over.  We not so fondly refer to the second driver as Whiskers as he had hairs growing out of moles on his neck and face which could have been braided they were so long!  The speedometer didn’t work and Whiskers was intent on testing how fast he could go without killing us all.  The overtaking manoeuvres that he performed would make even the best F1 driver cringe in his seat and break out into a cold sweat.  Never mind that the busses and truck drivers coming in the opposite direction were pulling the same moves, we often had headlights blinding us as we raced towards an oncoming vehicle, playing a game of chicken to see who would dodge back into the correct lane first.  Even the usually unflappable Rob had sweaty palms with a few nervous laughs escaping after some very close calls as we continued on through the night.  The only time Whiskers slowed down was when he clipped the side mirror with an oncoming truck, a noise that sounded like a gunshot and made us almost wet ourselves, and all that did was cause him to swear, stop, fix the mirror, and carry on the way he did before.  Best we could do was try and close our eyes but with the bus rocking from side to side as we careened from one side of the road to the other, and the unexpected slamming of brakes, coupled with the blasting of a very loud hooter made sleep difficult!  But we arrived in one piece, pale and shaky, and made our way to the coastal area of Sanur.

In our opinions, Bali, and Indonesia in general, was really overrated and not a backpacker destination at all.  We found everything to be a bit too Westernized for our tastes, so food and drinks were expensive.  Considering the place is full of Aussies on package holidays, and prices are listed in Australian Dollars, we couldn’t help but feel a bit disillusioned.  We had a chat with a gay couple from Perth who mentioned it was cheaper for them to fly to Indonesia than it was to fly to Sydney so Bali was the destination of choice for a holiday for most Australians.  The sea was unbelievably dirty, and the beach was full of litter, not the romantic post card we thought it would be.  The one day we did venture onto the beach for a suntan and swim we found used needles in the sand and hastily made a retreat!  Anyway, we still enjoyed ourselves as we found a comfortable place to stay which had a warm pool, and was 50m from a good beachfront walk which we did every morning and afternoon of our stay there.  One day we decided to venture out and caught a local bus to Kuta beach, which was tourist central.  Although happy to have seen more of the island, we were relieved to get back to our more sedate part of Bali, as Kuta was humming with activity and the beach overrun with people which we didn’t like.  We spent the last few days in Bali lazing around the pool with good books, enjoying the heat before the cold onslaught of winter back at home.

And so on 17 June we packed our bags, threw away most of our clothes which were now too big for us after losing some weight on our travels, and headed to the airport for the journey home.  South East Asia proved to be a fantastic experience for both of us, perhaps more so for me than for Rob.  After backpacking alone all those years ago, it was wonderful for Rob to share the joys of travel with a loved one, acting as my rock and holding my hand as I navigated my way through what proved to be a massive learning curve for me.   I was able to determine what I am capable of, and that my limits of comfort are definitely not as small as I originally thought.  Five months without my own pillow was a great achievement for me!  And I discovered it is definitely possible to be happy in even the most difficult of circumstances.  And if anyone thinks that five months of backpacking through ten completely different countries would satisfy our wanderlust, they’d be wrong!