As expected the 24 hours of travelling had 'it's moments'!
Our first flight was a delight! As in the aeroplane was spacious (I have no idea what type of plane but it was nine seats across) TC and I were sat on either side of the aisle each with a spare seat next to us. We settled down with huge smiles on our faces and prepared for takeoff.
TC turned to me and said "I've decided I'm not going to be so OCD on this trip, I'm really going to try hard to be more relaxed and chilled about the cleanliness and hygiene". I just nodded and smiled genially. Then she said "I'm really hungry". I suggested she ate the sandwhich that she had bought from the shop at Heathrow airport. To which she replied "No! I can't do that just yet I need to go and wash my hands first". Again I nodded and smiled genially.
A moment later, both of us simultaneously grimaced and wretched as the 'UFO' hit us! And by UFO I mean 'Unidentified Foot Odour'!!
It was chronic. In fact it was beyond chronic, it was the kind of smell even a mother would disown her own child over!!! And we were going to have 5 and a 1/2 hours of it! Our only saving grace was a little bottle of perfume I had in my hand luggage in the locker above, but the seat belt sign was still on!
TC and I were not suffering in silence, every time either one of us leaned forward to speak, the stench was so overwhelming we could do nothing but laugh or wretch (or sometimes both). Within seconds of the seatbelt light going off I lept up and grabbed that little bottle of nectar, tucked away in my day pack. Immediately TC and I smothered our arms in the sweet smell of Caudalie's 'The de Vignes' and thereafter had our noses firmly planted in the crooks of our elbows for a good half an hour until the UFO thankfully subsided.
The second flight was reasonably entertaining in itself when even before we'd left the ground, one of the male passengers who was sat a few rows in front of us, grabbed the man sat behind him by the throat and tried to throttle him, just because he had asked him not to put his seat back before take off.
The cabin staff calmed 'the throttler' down and returned to their duties as the plane taxied its way towards the runway. Suddenly 'the throttler' was up on his feet again, grabbing the poor bloke behind him by the throat and screaming at him.
The cabin staff ran over and very politely moved said 'throttler' to a seat at the back of the plane and I can only assume, that due to the lack of any other apparent commotion, all passengers arrived in Jakarta very much alive.
Once in Jakarta airport, TC and I hurried through to the front of the line of 'The visa counter' to get our visas. We were feeling quite chuffed that we had got there before everyone else. This was going to be easy. However, it turned out that we had to go over to another counter to buy the actual visa then return to the 'Visa Counter' for someone else to take the visa from us, stick it in our passport, then stamp it.
So we went over to the other counter, paid our 35 USD after which we were handed our visas, then we went back to 'The Visa Counter' joined the slightly longer queue and finally reached the counter only to be told that we had to fill in a visa form obtained from yet another counter! We explained to the smiling gentleman that we had the visa in our hands, therefore we should not need the form? But he insisted and sent us away to the other counter to get the form.
TC and I arrived at the other counter, filled in our respective visa forms to apply for the visa we had already paid for and received, then we hurried back to the much longer queue at 'The visa counter' for the third time!
This time we were successful, well I guess there is some validity to the phrase "Third time lucky"?! And so, with our visas finally stuck and stamped in our passports we headed over to passport control where we queued for another twenty minutes only to find that there was no need to queue unless we were Indonesian or over on a work visa!
Finally we were on our way to collect our baggage, TC hurried off to the loo while I waited and waited by the conveyor belt. I waited and waited trying not to panic that neither bags were appearing, until finally a very kind gentleman came over and explained that all luggage from our flight had been taken off and was left in a pile in the middle of the room. I turned to see where he was pointing and there were our two solitary bags, I grabbed them and piled them onto our trolley just as TC hurried over from the toilets shaking her head. "There're only squat ones in there!" The blood drained from my face, I had the biggest decision of the day to make; having drunk two large bottles of water and a few cups of tea on the plane, do I attempt a squat toilet, or do I wait until we get to the hotel in the safe knowledge that our room will have a western toilet.
The last large bottle of water got the best of me and so I headed off to the airport loos.
I was in luck! TC hadn't noticed the line of cubicles to the right with a picture of a 'normal' toilet on it! I was delighted and relieved (in many ways) and ran into one of the cubicles. Once 'relieved of my extra bottle of water' I noticed a sign on the inside of the door pointing to the picture of the toilet and indicating the rear flush. And so I turned and found the flush towards the rear of the toilet seat and twisted it.
Suddenly a strong jet of water shot out from the toilet bowl and all down my trouser leg and it was then that I realised that the instructions were literally for a 'rear flush' as in to flush out one's rear! Not, as I had thought to indicate that the flush was at the rear of the toilet!
With my right leg completely saturated with toilet water, I then had to do the walk of shame across the luggage lounge to where TC was waiting! I have to say I was rather impressed, considering after I had explained to her what had happened, that she didn't feel compelled to then wash me down with disinfectant! Maybe she is calming down on her OCD issues!
Luckily by the time we exited the building, it was so hot, that my leg had dried out and my secret was safe!
Thank goodness the one thing that ran to schedule was our waiting taxi driver and within the hour we were settled into our lovely hotel room in Jakarta and after a quick supper downstairs and laden down with jet lag we were both in our beds by 8:30 and fast asleep soon after.
Good old jet lag ... At 3am we were both wide awake again with TC complaining how hungry she was and that she was going to find it hard to wait another three hours before breakfast was served. (Those of you that followed us through Central America may remember that for a tiny person she has the most voracious appetite).
I suggested we tried to sleep a bit longer if possible and have breakfast at a reasonable time, to try fight against the jet lag. TC reluctantly agreed and I eventually fell back asleep with the sound of her mumbling about how she wouldn't be able to wait past 6am, she was too hungry.
Later that morning we were woken by the cleaner at the door. I checked my watch, it was 10am and we had missed breakfast altogether!
Bloody jet lag!
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