Indonesian police
Once again, not a good night’s sleep. The yobbos who were clustered around us seemed to wake at an extraordinarily early hour, + their moving about was disturbing. Once again, they were not pleasant. Eventually, we succumbed to Yopi’s entreaties, + retired to his cabin to doze away the remaining hours of early morning in relative peace. But fortunately there wasn’t much time to kill before we pulled in to Surubaya harbour. We said goodbye, giving him a picture of ourselves + a shirt as mementoes. He dropped some sort of hints that when we returned to England we could send him an air-ticket to come + visit. Either he thinks one just picks money up off then street back home, or we are exceptionally wealthy. In which case why on earth are we travelling deck class on a Pelni ship? But I’m afraid that even if I did have the money, Yopi would be the last bloke I would want to see.
We obtained directions from Leon as to the best way to get into the city, said goodbye, waited for the rushing crowd to get off – and then left, breathing several large sighs of relief that it was now left behind. The taxi-drivers on the wharf didn’t hassle us beyond a polite enquiry as to whether we needed their services , which was nice, + it was even more pleasant to discover that the bus station had real buses, with fixed routes + prices, + even uniformed staff (purple jump-suits for the drivers, green for the conductors.) It was cheap too – just Rp 75 each to carry us all the way into, thro’ + out the other side of town, to the big bus station for out of town buses.
It was mid-morning now, + first we discovered there were buses going to Denpasar that night, then I risked a pink drink – it comprised syrup, ice, fruit, jelly cubes, something coconutty, + water, + was beautiful – + then looked for a police station at which to report my loss. This I was dreading. We did have a letter from the ship saying my glasses had been “lost” while I was aboard, but the only way of keeping alive any faint hopes I might have of reclaiming the money on the insurance would be to have an official police report. To my amazement, they were both very good + very efficient about it. One of the officers spoke a little English, + between that + Val’s Indonesian, we were able to explain our story + our requirements. They were happy to oblige, + in a very short time had the letter ready for us. When that was completed, they even gave us permission to leave our bags there while we spent the afternoon looking around town. What nice people.
On the way into town, we spotted a Swensen’s American ice-cream parlour, + were unable to resist the temptation. We did manage to steer clear of the more exotic (+ expensive) creations tho’. We settle for a simple serving each, both of which were absolutely beautiful. Our homage paid to American cuisine, we then set out to find some local. I had a Chinese omelette, Val a huge plateful of deep-fried prawns, at a local warung, + then we moved elsewhere to have es campur, similar to the drink I’d tried that morning, but this time in the nature of a dessert. Somebody in the Yellow Guide had absolutely raved about it, but we reckoned it a bit sickly + nothing to get to excited about.
I was quite keen to get hold of a Time magazine, to catch up on the world’s events, so we set out to find a bookshop. Most of the shops in town were shut, but we did eventually discover a bookshop, + very interesting it was too, with lots of English language books (+ some other foreign language books) as well as Indonesian books. We browsed for ages, + were finally tempted to buy beyond the purchase of a mere Time magazine. Val bought an Indonesian children’s book, to help her with learning the language, + we also spent Rp 3000 on a hardback book in English. It was a sort of large format Ladybird book, + gave the names + a page about the Twelve Great Western Philosophers. A beautifully old-fashioned book, American of course, of which we’re never likely to see the kind again.
Back to the bus station (named, I kid you not, Joyoboyo) where we collected our bags, + then sat down on a step to read, + while away an hour or so. Eventually, we decided it was time to find a bus, + fortunately a local lady, who had been chatting a while with Val, was able to lead us to the offices of a company who seemed to be offering a fair deal – at any rate they were a little cheaper than the one we’d checked out earlier. So we bought our tickets, + sat in their office for a while, until we were beckoned outside. I had anticipated a reasonable-sized bus waiting for us – instead there was an old + battered bemo. But this, they assured us, was just to take us to the bus, which was waiting at a bus station somewhere else. So now we had yet another of those Asian experiences – stuck in the back of an old bemo, rushing madly thro’ the night to I know not where, hanging onto our bags, + looking at other inscrutable Asians doing likewise with their curious parcels.
When we arrived tho’, all was well. By recent standards, the bus was really quite luxurious – clean + comfortable, plenty of leg-room, reclining seats. Even better, it wasn’t even full, let alone crowded, so we were able to put our bags on the seat behind us – always good for one’s peace of mind. There was even some half-decent music on the stereo, as we drove out thro’ the suburbs of Surubaya. I felt, for the first time in quite a while, very much at ease. We were even presented with complimentary bottles of drink when we set off – just like an airline. Even if it was Tehbotol, about the cheapest one there is – very sweet cold tea. I appreciated the gesture tho’. And when the local tape finished, I passed forward our Elton John one, which seemed to be appreciated.
After a while tho’, our heads started to nod, + soon after that it was not the case of trying to sleep, but making sure we didn’t collapse in the aisle. However, within 30 mins or so, we had stopped for a meal break. This was free (or, to quote John Betjeman’s definition of free, already included in the purchase price) so that was an additional reason for not missing out. Our yellow guide said the food was grotty, + I suppose that strictly speaking it was, but after 3 days of Pelni fare, we were quite able to wolf it down. And then… back on the bus.
Especially good to escape from the ship and its various inhabitants, all the more so when our onward travel seems to be so comfortable; we are on our way to Bali! The whole business with the police was a waste ot time in the end, for I never did receive any recompense for my lost glasses (but then, I may not even have put in a claim.)
