Day 171 & Day 172
We made a friend today. Seeing an obvious Surley touring frame at the hotel lobby, I made a guess that the only white guy eating breakfast was the owner. Topi, from Finland, was also taking the Ferry from Batam to Tanjung Priok, (West Jakarta). Topi has been traveling South East Asia offering his skills as a Chef for free room and board. On a whim he bought a bike in Bangkok and became a cycle tourer. He is the first cyclist that we’ve met in Malaysia.
It turned out that one of the millions of photographers that stopped us for photos was a reporter. The owner of the hotel we stayed at recognized us from the picture on the local newspaper and was nice enough to give us a copy, the caption reads that “Justine and Shair are traveling around the world on 3 wheeled motorcycles.” We wish we had motors!
We bought our tickets at the local Pelni office near the hospital, 5 minutes walk from the terminal. Get the tickets here, instead of waiting until you get to the ferry terminal because this is the only place to get a legit ticket.
We met a young exuberant backpacker while waiting for the ferry. With his Nike’s, flat brimmed hat, and tough guy attitude, he announced that he was not only from Chicago but was Chicago. He scoffed at us when we informed him where and for how much we bought our tickets, implying we got scammed. He then tried to buy a ticket at the Pier and was quoted almost a third more and he had to take a taxi to back to the Pelni ticket office where we bought ours. We also met a soft-spoken, smiley eyed backpacker from France, named Marco. We later learned that Marco had been traveling for the last year, by motorcycle from France to China, then on foot hitching through China and later as a crew member of a sailboat. This was the extent of the foreigners on the boat.
Tourist’s corner
We had read that there is a crushing mob when boarding starts, and it’s best to wait until most people board as each ticket has an assigned seat. This was great advice since the ship doesn’t set sail until 2 hours after the initial boarding. We also read that the porters will scam you by offering to carry your bags, and you being a naive Westerner assume it’s a service, until they demand an outrageous price after the fact. Most importantly we read and were told at the ticket stand to keep your valuables close, keep nothing in your pockets and don’t display any valuables until after the ferry leaves the port. Even after avoiding each of these pit falls we still got scammed.
We politely declined the at least ten porters offering to carry our bags. We could have made a deal, but most people carry our trikes by grabbing onto the most fragile features, like the mudguards, so I prefer to do it myself. We moved everything in steps. First we locked up the bikes and carried the luggage on board. I left Cher to guard the luggage on the ship, then returned to unlock one trike, carried it up to leave with Cher, then went back and unlocked the other. 30 sweaty minutes later our things were stowed. I had the pleasure of watching the porters making bets on if I would be able to carry the trike up the steep gangplank and then nudging each other as I easily shouldered my trike and laughing. Although the trikes look bulky, they are not heavy, just awkwardly balanced.
Topi was seated across from us and we were mutually happy to have an extra set of eyes to look after our stuff and of course another English speaker to chat with. As we were settling in our beds, a member of the crew dressed in a white sailor uniform, stopped by to check our tickets and amid the confusion and chaos I didn’t realize it until it was too late that he didn’t return our tickets. If you don’t have your tickets, you are fined and you can not get food from the canteen. Tickets are checked whenever you move between decks. I found a crew member named Oxxum to help me and we located the scoundrel who pocketed my ticket. I confronted him and he said I lost it. Luckily they keep a computer record of all tickets purchased and Cher’s ticket was found and reprinted. However, my name didn’t come up in a keyword search. My savior Oxxum, patiently went through hundreds of printed ticket receipts in search for mine. They couldn’t find my name because the when copying the information from my passport, my name was entered as Mr. McGlynn. Oxxum later warned me, “trust no one on the sea.” This was excellent advice. I returned to our sleeping area and tied all of our bags together and barricaded them under our beds with our trike seats.
We decided to take economy because first class costs almost as much as flying and second class, where they divide you into rooms of 4 or 8, are separated by sex. Economy class gets you a bed, with space to put your things underneath and 3 meals per day. The ship claims to be air-conditioned but I spent most of the time sweating. Sleep was difficult since we were right next to the T.V. which was kept on until Cher decided to make a stand and battled a woman after midnight alternately switching in off and on. Our neighbors also chain smoked cigarettes, which is quite common and without windows it was like being in a dive bar. We didn’t ask them to stop, thinking it better to be on good terms with our neighbors. There were cockroaches everywhere, and although they avoided crawling on people, these impudent insects didn’t care if the lights were on or not. As for the meals, they were just barely enough to keep passengers alive on board and consist of white rice and a very small salty fish, and maybe some congee with a trace of egg. We ate the meals, but we noticed many locals brought their own instant noodles as supplements.
We settled in and after the ship left we witnessed a distraught man being consoled by the guards. They made a half-hearted look under some of the beds, presumably for his lost bag. Without security cameras on the ship, it would be easy to snatch a bag, rummage through it for valuables, and then chuck it into the sea leaving no evidence of the crime. With out bags safely under our bed we slept a little, before getting everyone together for some Chinese checkers and whiskey. Hoping this would help us get to sleep or I could insert some other excuse, we polished off a small bottle of cheap whiskey.
Even with our whiskey we woke early enough to see the sun rise thanks to the ever-present adhan. The call to prayer has lost its initial mysterious wonder due to its ability to wake me from a deep slumber, even before the rooster crows.
We passed the time with music, podcasts and Chinese Checkers before arriving in West Jakarta at 7:30pm. We unloaded and parted ways with Marco, and found a cheapish hotel just a few kilometers from the pier. I was happy to have a hot shower that everyone wasn’t peeing in and Cher who skipped showering for 2 days due to baby poo in the lady’s was overjoyed to be clean again. Most importantly, no more indoor chain-smoking in our private hotel room. We found a local restaurant nearby and after the taste deprivation on the ferry, the food was incredibly flavorful. Among 3 of us, we had 5 servings for only 90,000 Rupiah.
We had made it and now begins the last leg of our South East Asia journey. Although we were already in Indonesia, crossing the equator during our ferry ride gave me the feeling of accomplishment. We had under mostly our own power meandered over a point which Cher and I had previously only crossed once each during our lives. Now we had crossed it together.
