Trip from Singapore to Bali had some moments that made me scratch my head. I keep forgetting the rules and obstacles of traveling to different countries.
Stations for transport are filled with people who know their destinations. There seems to be this general assumption that one can not travel without a return ticket. For quite a few years now I´ve only bought one way tickets, usually at the latest moment, and trying not to hurt my body too much when ignoring the travel times.
Early morning started with a strong coffee and some sweating with the luggage.
At the airport THE man at the check-in counter asked me if I have a ticket out of Indonesia. I didn’t so I lied and told I had a ticket to Australia. The man looked at me. He called my bluff and asked for proof. I folded and went looking for a Wifi so I could get a ticket. After few extra heart beats I had a screenshot. It wasn’t official but it wasn’t fake either… Let’s put it that way.
While boarding started I found a shiny pen from the ground and asked an old lady if it was hers. It wasn’t, I could tell, but she lied to me and crapped the pen. On the connecting flight another old lady sat on my window seat. Cunning women pretending to be oblivious of the fact… I enjoyed the aisle space for my feet and dozed off.
In Bali the airport never let’s me go easy. It takes a a while to get a bearing of the transportation options. Too many touts. It was late so I ended up finding a hostel in Kuta Beach, dining while chatting with a prostitute from Sumatra and finding a huge tortoise laying eggs on the beach. The tortoise was surrounded by large crowd of people. Everyone kept using flashlights and touching the poor thing. Not much privacy if you give birth on Kuta beach. Selfies and sand was flying around as the mother finally headed back to the ocean.
As I followed the moon back to the hostel it started raining. Store fronts were occupied by homeless women and children seeking for shelter.
Kuta Beach hasn’t changed in the past few years.
”Taxi!”, ”Weed!”, “Ladies”, ”Mushrooms!”
Next morning I was of to Amed.
The plan was to find a freediving school.
You can’t underwater.
You might reach your destination or you might not.
Important for me is to dive down happily & feeling it’s not a one way trip.