My first long haul flight. Flying with Emirates was an
unexpected luxurious experience in which I'm not used to at all. Regular visits
from a beautiful air hostess garbed in traditional Arabic formals, serving a
selection of beverages, my poison of choice being the 47% beefeater gin, meant
we was drunk very quickly. Fortunately a feast of good quality food followed to
soak up some alcohol.
On the second flight, Dubai to Jakarta, I was seated next to
a young lady wearing a burka, who looked least impressed to be sitting next to
me. She spent the majority of the flight with her arms crossed staring into the
back of the chair in front. As I took pleasure playing with the touchscreen
smart TV, we shared few bonding experiences as our arms brushed on occasion.
Towards the end of the flight she flew a white flag in the form of an offer of
a mento. I made my first friend.
Finally arriving in Jakarta, Indonesia I was rewarded with
my first passport stamp. Running on 35 hours with next to no sleep, it was hard
to keep the nerves at bay. As we left the airport we was greeted by unbearable
heat and a welcoming committee of honking horns, taxi drivers and a rabble of Indonesian
dialogue, the horns soon become the soundtrack of our trip.
We flagged down a licenced taxi and bundled inside. The
nerves and tiredness peaked as we drove through Jakarta. Ludacris traffic,
Children riding mopeds, slums and poverty in all directions, we were terrified
the taxi driver would kick us out at any moment. Fortunately the centre of the
city was a lot less threatening; our hotel was very nice for the huge price of
£8 each.
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