In the never ending quest to reduce the size of my travelling kit I’ve found two new solutions, two reasons to leave the laptop at home more often: a keyboard that lets me type well using my phone, and an app that lets me plan hikes or runs for use with my Garmin fitness watch.
With an unexpected weekend to kill thanks to earlier immigration difficulties, I take a train south to see what Indonesians get up to during their time off, and end up being kidnapped and interrogated. I also get a taste of the rainforest, including the kind of thorough soaking that I’m told is typical for Bogor in November.
Having finally made it to Jakarta I spend a week working with the world’s friendliest people, stay in a top hotel, and subsist almost entirely on mall-food. I shoot some mediocre street photos from the thickest traffic known to man, and there’s a small chance of a weekend in Bali. Oh, and an earthquake. I almost forgot the earthquake.
In part two of my Indonesian business trip I miss the last flight from Batam to Jakarta, having narrowly talked my way out of a tight spot with immigration, and spend the night as guest of the man in charge of airport security. This is beginning to feel like a trip I’ll remember for some time to come.
In November 2015 I left London on what was supposed to be another standard business trip; economy long-haul discomfort, long hours with busy clients, a week of lonely dinners for one. In this post, the first in a series of five, I find out what happens when you bring your girlfriend along, and try to enter Indonesia with an invalid passport.