Cranial Vomit

The last time I put pen to plasticy screen, I was trapped on the flight of hell.

Screaming children, crappy entertainment and i was starting to get an itch on my upper left thigh. But before I could scratch that itch, I was in panic mode – my plane had landed somewhere that wasn’t Jakarta….

As I got off the plane, I wondered to myself why nobody else was questioning the unusual sequence of events. After getting out of the shuttle bus that brought me to the terminal, I suddenly realised where I was….

Bali.

I’m in Denpasar… BALI. I’m supposed to be in Jakarta..

To those people out there who are geographically retarded, the distance is similar between Sydney to Adelaide - so it wasn’t a case where the pilot just took a wrong turn somewhere at that invisible roundabout hovering in mid-air.

After chatting to a rather official looking bloke who was having a smoke directly under a no-smoking sign, everything started to make sense – it was a transit flight. Nobody told me about this prior to me getting on the plane and given that I was too busy trying not to fit my fist down the esophagus of a preschooler, I would have missed the announcements made by the pilot en-route.

After a 30 minute wait in the transit lounge, we were told to get back on the plane. The majority of the passengers had disembarked to Bali – including the little brat so I was now surrounded by bunch of new unfamiliar faces all eager to get to the nations capital. Not one westerner was on the plane with me. The flight attendants were speaking to me in Indonesian, the short film was in Indonesian and even the smell started to feel very Indonesian. Very soon, the culture shock will hit me.

I braced myself for impact…… Nothing..
No matter – Jakarta, here I come! Farewell Bali, see you again in a couple of days..

I hope.

– o –

On my way to the capital, I have to say the view is spectacular. Unlike the trip to Bali which primarily consisted of flying over flat, dull terrain and even more comatose inducing ocean - the island of Java is unbelievable to view from the air.

firstly, flying over an active volcano is AWESOME. being able to see the steam spew from the vents and the volcanic pools ripple in the sunlight is breathtaking. The size of the crater was just beyond ridiculous.. either we are flying only a few hundred meters above it, or there is a huge fuck-off crater in the middle of Indonesia that nobody knows about. Then again, that could be possible. A few weeks I found a $100 note stuffed in the breast pocket of a jacket I hadn’t worn in years. Perhaps this behemoth was just hidden away amongst the moth balls and old issues of Hustler magazine.

A few mins later we fly over civilization.. i figure Indonesian domestic airspace is a lot lower in comparison to Australia’s as i can see individual buildings from this height. the pollution is quite apparent from up here with the coast line growing increasingly browner the closer we get to large cities. streaks of what look like oil slicks radiate in all directions from the various port cities twinkling with all the colors of the rainbow, resembling an exploded firework frozen in time. housing density is huge as well, with suburbs looking like red play dough being pressed through a fly screen door. out the window i can also see another plane, seemingly heading the same direction. i can almost see people’s faces through the windows. thats a little too close for comfort.

very unnerving indeed.

By this time I’m beyond exhausted, writing on this thing has given me a cramp, but I seem to have this unnerving compulsion to keep on writing. But really i should stop. My wit has all dried up and I’ve been noticing myself falling into micro-sleeps..

before I sign off, lunch is served… wooah! metal cutlery! I haven’t seen knives and forks in metal form on a plane for years. Shame that kid didn’t stay on the plane, cos I’d bet this knife could do serious damage to his trachea, especially when inserted through his rectum by using this metal fork as a tool to keep his puckered little hole open.

The food which was served seems to be some kind of a mystical meat dish.. one bite it tastes like fish… another bite it tastes like veal. the taste sensations dance on my tongue like a dog chasing it’s tail with a live chicken strapped to it’s back.

mmmm. mystical meat indeed.

Accompanied with the meal is a carton of water.. for some reason the manufacturer decided to call their water “Asian Water”…. it says so right on the container. mmmm Asian water and it’s asiany goodness. Somehow Asian water tastes better than the usual crappy Australian water - I suppose everything tastes better when manufactured in massive Asian sweat-shops.

Even Reebok shoes. Delicious when served on a bed of mashed potatoes.

The rest of the flight was rather uneventful. Some turbulence managed to dislodge one of the overhead compartments, allowing some hand luggage to go flying, ricocheting off some guy’s bald skull. I laughed, he glared, I pretended it was the guy behind me.

Eventually things started to get darker as I felt my eyelids getting heavier.

Next stop - Jakarta.