When the guy at immigration asks where you are staying in Jakarta, don't say "your place".
I landed in Jakarta at midnight and was planning on curling up in a corner somewhere like many others, and waiting for the sun so I could get a move on to Depok from the Lebak bus station.
This wasn't the case. I was approached by a security guard around 2:00 a.m. Who basically could only point back down the stairs to communicate with me. I looked at all the others, some chatty girls, some relaxed but clueless boys and some sleeping families as they all fumbled with their things and headed downstairs.
Were we seriously being kicked out? Isn't an airport always open? I watched people slowly leave the building with somber faces. I'm assuming they are in the same boat as me and simply trying to pass time until their next departure, whatever it may be.
I quickly googled some affordable places to stay just in case but I was still looking at around 30 dollars, for what? To maybe sit for an hour? Oh good grief. But then it hit me! McDonalds! Always open, there's food, and I'm sure there are always weirdos hanging around at all hours with no purpose. There must be one close if push came to shove. But would I even get a cab at this hour? I don't have a phone, so far I'm not having fun.
But then I put my next brilliant plan into action as I looked around to see if security was hot on my trail again. Did you figure it out? Ladies bathroom. It was perfect, I had to get cleaned up anyway so I took my time including making faces at myself to see if the sun has already started to cause wrinkles, and what the hell I even put on some makeup. I changed, did a bit of a victory dance and then decided to retreat into a stall. Don't worry I took a picture for quality assurance, I'll email it to you. What a perfect time to write about the situation I'm in! So I'm huddled up on a toilet, thank god there is a large shelf behind me for my backpack and I'm typing away listening to other women come in and out of the bathroom. If other people are in the airport so am I bitches, you will rue the day you even crossed BB.
The only shitty part is, this means no sleep. Until I'm safely on a bustle a couple hours to whatever rice paddy my bestie is squatting in, I'm pulling an all nighter, which also sucks because I'll need to pass out as soon as I finally get to him. Oddly enough, train, plane, bus, whatever I can sleep no problem. Put me in a guest house and I'm tossing and turning all night, maybe the perpetual motion is soothing.
Fun Fact: I forgot to mention how douche baggish Patong Beach was. Think of Jersey Shore on steroids in the busiest part of Vegas. Woof.
No comments:
Post a Comment