At the end of October 2013, I spent four days in Bali, one accidental day in Timor-Leste, and two hours of terrifying panic as I sat in the cockpit of an aircraft leaking fuel convinced I was going to die. I was meant to be in Cairns at this time, not on the back of a local's moped exploring rice paddies in Ubud, but as often happens while on the road, my travel plans got totally flipped upside down.
One week earlier, I had been on the patio of Melaleuca in Darwin having a few pitchers of beer and had met two American pilots. One of them, Sean, and I were competitively quizzing each other on the capitals of the world, because these are the things I like to do on a night out and also my memorization of all of the world's countries and most capitals is not a base of knowledge I get to show off very often.
It's always nice to meet fellow Americans, and the next morning while checking out, I ran into Sean while I was dragging my luggage to the storage closet. He offered to let me leave my bags in their room for the day while I was waiting for my flight to Cairns later that night, so I thanked him and brought my stuff down the hall.
His company was paying for his room, and he and Thomas (the other American who had decided to join him on the trip) had rented a four person en suite room with two bunks all to themselves. We got to chatting about their itinerary, which overall had started in New Zealand, where they picked up the tiny skydiving aircraft that Sean had been contracted to deliver to Russia. The plane could only hold so much fuel, so they had to land at least every 7 hours or so, breaking up their trip. He had a flexible schedule and his company was paying for the fuel and accommodation, so he was basically taking his time and staying as long as he liked in each place.
He was showing me their map and mentioned that their next stop was Bali, then suggested that I come along. My immediate response was that of course I couldn't do that, I had a flight to Cairns later. He replied with something along the lines of, "So what? Cancel it."
The second I actually entertained the idea as a valid possibility, I totally freaked out. I made tons of excuses, each of which seemed weaker than the last. Now that it was in my head, how could I turn down the opportunity to jump on a private plane and go to Bali for free?! That's not an opportunity that comes up every day or, like, ever.
However, I am generally a planner. I don't tie myself down with details, but I usually have a loose idea of what I'm doing, and disruptions to that itinerary wreck my mental balance unless I have time to think them over and incorporate them into my solid plans. Well, the guys were leaving the following day, and I had a flight to catch in less than 24 hours. Time wasn't on my side.
The spontaneity involved in this decision put me in total shutdown nervous breakdown mode, so obviously, I went straight to the bar. It was around 3 in the afternoon, and I spent the next 11 hours drinking, asking literally every person I spoke to for advice, called Jetstar to ask about rescheduling my flight, called the company I'd booked my reef dive with about rescheduling that, and even called my mom from across the world to get her advice (disapproving, of course) but mainly just to let her know what I was going to be doing regardless of what I knew her opinion was going to be. Once I'd spoken with her and of course a million pitchers of beer later, I had my mind set on doing it.
So in the most impulsive decision of my life, I stood on the sidewalk in the Darwin night and called all the necessary companies to reschedule my flight, my Cairns hostel, and my reef dive, and finally went to bed at 2 because my anxiety was too high to be out any longer.
Of course I slept terribly. I was so freaked out and shaky that it woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep again. However, in the most anticlimactic fashion possible, our plans all fell apart that day and it turned out we were going nowhere. Sean was waiting on a landing permit which his company hadn't cleared yet, so we were delayed. It was originally meant to be one extra day, but then his boss sued the company meant to clear it, so they weren't going to help anymore, and we ended up being in Darwin for another week. On the bright side, I was staying in one of the empty beds in Sean and Thomas's room for free, and this gave me time to get used to the idea of jetting off to Asia.
Finally, the week had passed and we were in the clear to take off. During this time, Thomas got impatient and decided literally the day before we were leaving that he was just going to fly back home to Florida. Sean and I both tried to talk him out of it, but his mind was made up, so our trip was down to two.
The Flight
We got up on the morning of departure and caught a cab to the private terminal at the airport. This was all a whole new experience on its own. The building was absolutely tiny, like smaller than a bus station. There was no security, no check-in, and nothing to pay. We barely had to talk to anyone. We just walked out onto the concourse, threw our stuff in the tiny plane, fueled up, and were good to go.
I did mean TINY.
The one benefit of Thomas backing out was that I now got to sit up front in the cockpit. What a cool experience! I could see all of the controls and gauges, had a full body seatbelt, and had windows on all sides for the best flight views of my life. I was too excited to even be nervous on takeoff. Once we were in the air, Sean even asked if I wanted to steer for a minute, although after ten seconds of me giggling and swerving the plane in different directions he said that was enough and took back over.
Of course, there was no way I could have a relaxed, enjoyable flight experience for once, and about fifteen minutes after takeoff, the whole aircraft started smelling heavily of fuel. Sean pulled out the oxygen masks and we used those for a few minutes which freaked me out completely, but he tried to assure me we were fine.
If he was trying to ease my panic though, the way to do that is not by writing me notes telling me to let him know if my lips or nails turned purple or I began not to feel well. The plane was too loud for us to speak. He had a headset but I just had in earplugs, so this was the only method of communication. He was trying to tell me that we could make it to 15,000 feet without needing oxygen and that we were still at a safe altitude (12,500 feet at that point), but my brain was stuck on "if your lips or nails turn purple."
My panic put me on high alert for any clues as to what was happening, and about twenty minutes later I noticed him rapidly dialing various airport codes into the navigational system while talking to someone on his headset. It was obvious he was trying to redirect the flight which meant that something was very wrong.
I kept quiet until he finished talking to whoever was on the other end of the headset, then he tapped me on the shoulder and pointed out the window on his side to direct my gaze to the problem. There was gasoline flying out of the left wing. The cap wasn't on properly.
I tried to keep my absolute sheer panic nicely contained and asked him if we were going to be ok. He told me we would have enough to make it to the nearest airport. To be honest, I was extremely proud of myself for somehow keeping calm on the rest of the flight. I sat peacefully holding my airplane rosary (never go flying without a rosary) and praying for the next two hours. I watched Sean tilting the plane every so often to balance the remaining fuel between the two wings, and at some point he decided on an airport to land at.
Finally, after two hours of nothing but ocean beneath us, we came to land. And it was the most beautiful land you could imagine, but maybe I'm biased because I was high on survival. At that moment I completely forgot to be nervous, because we had emerged through the clouds into some unknown mountainous country with the most stunning airplane views I had ever experienced. There were a few lakes, hardly any houses scattered through the valleys, and unbelievable hilly terrain. Along with that, I had absolutely no idea where in the world we were. It was like a dream. Just wow.
On the opposite shore we came over the city with a small, picturesque runway surrounded on three sides by gorgeous blue water.
As soon as we safely landed, I ran out of the plane and up to the airport sign to find out where we were- a country I never thought I'd visit in my life, Timor-Leste. How awesomely random! Timor-Leste used to be East Timor, part of Indonesia, but there was a long and violent conflict which led to Timor-Leste's independence.
Timor-Leste
We were in the capital city of Dili, and lucky for us, there were some Australian guys who worked at the airport there to greet us. They were so helpful and great between offering us water bottles, letting us use their bathroom past the private hangar, and even offering us a room to stay in for the night at their residential compound.
Sean looked at me and asked how I felt about staying in a totally random country for the night, and we were both all for it, so we accepted and were given a lift by one of the guys, Nick, who took us on a little tour of the city. Dili is very beautiful but very poor. The rundown houses made of wood and corrugated metal are a stark contrast to the gorgeous mountains and cliffs around them.
The more expensive houses are situated well away from the road and surrounded by chain fences. I heard that the tallest building in the city is only 8 stories and considered to be huge. Most of the houses are tiny shacks. There are people sitting outside and standing all in the streets down the stretches of markets and motorbikes.
We went to a viewpoint on a hill next to a Catholic church and also saw an amazing sunset on a winding road between the cliffs and sea.
After our tour, Nick took us back to our home for the night, and it was awesome! All the guys live in this little resort-style accommodation with rooms that open up onto their own semi-enclosed front porch, a bar onsite, and a pool in the center of the courtyard.
Our room was so nice although unfortunately only had one comfy king-sized bed, but it was large enough for us to keep to our own sides (to be clear, this was strictly a friendship-based venture).
After quick showers, we met the guys back outside for a beer. I had my first Bintang, the beer of choice in Bali. We then got in one of the guy's cars to drive to the Dili Beach Hotel for dinner, and I was happily reminded that I was out of the western world when not only was I allowed to bring my open beer into the car but also into the restaurant. I was also able to smoke inside and buy a pack of Marlboros for only $3.50.
The Dili Beach Hotel was on the second floor of an open-air building. I had an extremely good tofu and vegetable curry and a fruit smoothie. It started pouring down rain outside while we had dinner, and I went to stand by the railing and feel the cool air. We stayed for about an hour, and the guys were so nice, but I was happy to get back and get to sleep after a tiring day.
The following morning I had a wonderful half hour or so where I invited a tiny stray kitten into my room, found a can of tuna in one of the cabinets to feed it, and gave it lots of love and attention until we sadly had to leave. If I could have kidnapped it and given it a beautiful life, I totally would have.
I also had my heart broken on the way out of the compound when I saw another kitten, so small it would have fit in my hand, maybe less than a few weeks old, covered in fleas and literally dying painfully in a corner. Can I just save all of the cats in the world, please?!
We got a ride back to the airport where we thought we'd just fuel up and take off, but the Timorese workers there had very different ideas. Mainly extortion. Not only did they want us to pay for the fuel and a landing fee, they wanted some kind of ridiculous parking fee, all of which was going to cost hundreds. They would only take the payment in cash, and Sean had hit his withdraw limit two days in a row now so the ATM wouldn't allow him to take anymore out.
He had a driver take him to the bank, so I just sat in the plane and waited in the heat. He didn't come back for an entire hour. When he did, he informed me that after standing in line for an hour, the banker had made him leave to get his passport, and now he had to go back. I was tired of sitting in the concourse, so I jumped in the car to go along this time.
The bank was packed. The line was out the door and moving at a glacial pace. The guy at the desk who Sean had talked to had told him he could come right back to him, but then he had some kind of issue withdrawing the money, so he told us we'd have to wait in line again! Sean was not happy, so we drove to two other places instead, another bank and a cash point, both of which sent us right back to the first bank.
While Sean went back in to argue with the guy again, I went to wander around a shopping center until Sean met back up with me after having no luck. On the bright side, I was still in the best kind of shock at Asian prices. We got three donuts, an iced coffee, and a bottle of water for just $6.50 total!
Anyway, back at the airport, we were all tired of waiting. One of the Aussie workers totally snapped at me when I wandered back to use their bathroom again and basically yelled at me for walking around in a dress, I was upset, we were all losing patience and I think everyone was just ready to see us go. In the end, I decided to walk over to the ATM, withdraw a few hundred bucks myself, loan it to Sean, and get us the fuck to Bali.
That worked. We paid the fuel, paid the landing fee, thanked the Aussie guys, and then just took off because we didn't have enough for the Timorese workers' bullshit parking fee and at that point didn't really care. As an odd side note before I move on, did you know that Timor-Leste uses US dollars? How totally and weirdly random! I bet most Americans have never even heard of Timor-Leste, yet they're using our currency. It was really strange after almost a year away from home to walk away from a foreign ATM with a fistful of green dollar bills.
I was so relieved to be moving again and not faced with the prospect of being imprisoned in Dili forever, and our plane had no problems on this second leg of the trip. It was, however, freezing, despite my hoodie and socks, and I was now sick with a sore throat and cold.
Bali
We approached Bali after sundown and were greeted by the sight of lights and roads and an illuminated runway. My left ear was totally destroyed on the descent as we changed altitudes too quickly and I could have screamed at how painful it was, but it was so loud in the plane it would have done no good. I had trouble with it over the next few days as it blocked and unblocked, but it did make a full recovery.
We then had more legal issues as we landed at the private terminal and were greeted by customs guys who were very confused as they were not expecting us. We were stuck with them for at least a half hour while they sorted out our visas and everything. Once that was finally over, they drove us to the main terminal where we withdrew some Indonesian Rupiah and I felt like a baller. $10=100,000 Rupiah, 20 cents= 2000 Rupiah, and so on, so you could say you're a millionaire!
We got a taxi to take us into Kuta where we were staying, and my jaw was permanently dropped as we rode in. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. The city is completely mental! The roads are absolutely packed with motorbikes and cars which seem to follow no road laws whatsoever, and on either side of the streets are endless stores and markets and people just everywhere. The central area near the beach is extremely commercialized with neon signs and Aussie chain stores, but then down the side streets are the vendors just crammed one after the other selling tourist shirts and sunglasses and souvenirs. It was my first taste of Asian city life and I was speechless. Insanity.
The taxi dropped us down Poppies Lane 2 and we found our hotel/hostel, Dua Dara. It has an outdoor pool and tables with a three story building behind it holding all of the rooms motel-style.
We walked through the little courtyard between buildings and up the stairs to find our room on the second floor. It was far more basic than our Dili accommodation with tiled floors, bare walls, and a bathtub with only a detachable showerhead you had to pick up yourself to wash off. At least it had two beds I guess! I was actually so unimpressed that I went to look at a few other places the following day, but in the end I was being ridiculous as we were in a room with air con and were only paying $24 a night total which included free breakfast and wifi and that was all we needed.
After checking in and leaving our things, we went to explore. Sean had been in Bali twice before, so he was familiar with the area. We walked to Kuta Beach which was empty now at night, past all the markets where you are constantly harassed to buy things, and to a pretty good restaurant where we had dinner around 9. I ordered my first jaffle, like an enclosed sandwich with a filling. This one was an egg jaffle (what a fun word). I immediately decided I love Bali restaurants because there is ALWAYS chili sauce on the table, something sorely lacking in Oz, and I put it on every meal I had. Also, my jaffle, calzone, and a drink only cost me $7.
Following our meal, we walked to the end of Poppies Lane and discovered that the hub of nightlife was literally at the end of our street, like three minutes away. This, if possible, was even more insane than the shopping area. There were bars and clubs packed the whole way down the street, people and lights everywhere, and every two steps someone was trying to sell you methamphetamines or mushrooms. We weren't out to see any bars and declined all kind offers of drugs, but we did see the bombing memorial. Bali is the only Buddhist island in Indonesia as the rest are Muslim. In 2002, an Islamic group bombed this street in Kuta in the center of the nightlife area, killing 202 people. The memorial stands at the site.
Halloween
The following day just so happened to be Halloween, my favorite holiday. I had done all my planning to be in Cairns, where I knew there were costume shops, and now I had to last minute scramble for something to wear in a foreign country. I take Halloween very seriously. Back home my costumes were planned at least a month in advance and usually involved a heavy amount of body paint and temporary hair spray. I knew that I would not have anything too impressive or elaborate this year, but I still wanted to celebrate.
After enjoying our free breakfast of jaffle, fruit salad, and coffee, I dragged Sean to the markets. I was actually convinced this was going to be an easy task, because on first night in town, we'd seen multiple bars promoting Halloween parties and costume contests. That made me think there would be plenty of costume shops, of course, but I was wrong. After walking around for hours and asking anybody I could find, including those working at said bars, I had no luck at all.
But managed a little exploring.
We took a break and went to Kuta Beach, which was far busier during the day. There were "beach bars" lined up all down the length which were just locals with beer coolers selling drinks. We settled down at one that was being run by a young guy named Simpson and had a few Bintangs.
Literally minutes after arriving though, we were swarmed by merchants. Two women sat me down on a chair and started doing my nails and toes telling me it was "free". I of course assumed it would not be free, but everything had been so cheap so far that I figured maybe a few bucks, so I let them go at it. They had just removed all of my nail polish and I was choosing colors when one of them asked if I wanted to know the price. I said sure, and she told me it was $60 between the two of them! What? I said no and immediately pulled away my hands and feet, but at the exact same time some other new lady was in my face trying to sell me bracelets, so just as I'd start to talk to her the two nail ladies would grab my fingers and toes and start painting them again. It was so frustrating!
After I'd chosen a pretty green stringy bracelet with charms and a black anklet with metal pieces and gotten rid of the bracelet lady, I put my focus back on the stupid manicure women. I told them I'd give them $10, but they were not happy with that, and I looked at Sean for help who just shrugged. They ended up finishing my nails and then literally took me by the arm and walked me to an ATM down the road where they waited while I withdrew money. I got away with only paying them $15 each, but I still had not planned on a $30 mani/pedi and so I learned my first lesson about haggling with the locals. Always agree on a price first!
I relaxed with my beer afterwards though and got a $5 neck and shoulder massage from a wandering masseuse, and during this time I mentioned to Simpson that I was planning to try to get up to Ubud at some point. He ended up offering to drive me around on a moped tour the following day, so plans had all fallen into place!
On the way back to the hotel after, I finally got my tacky Bintang shirt. Sean had told me that every western tourist to Bali buys one and so immediately I decided it was something I needed. Mine is a pretty cool one though made from a nice grey material and shredded into a crop top at the bottom.
After hanging out at the hotel for a bit, I went on one more last ditch solo mission to find a costume for the night. I circled the city around two times before giving up and returning to a really awesome goth-y store I had found earlier called Variations that was totally my style. I had bought a crop top there earlier, and so now I just decided to buy a one-sleeved black dress with cutouts which I thought I could maybe pair with creepy makeup and make acceptable as a Halloween outfit. Plus it was tight and short and I'd wear it again.
I got a bit lost on the way back, and it was dark by the time I made it to the hotel. Sean and I grabbed some dinner at an Italian place across the road where we had a little table up on the deck overlooking the street while a band was playing. We grabbed some large beers at a street shop on the way back and drank them by the pool at the hotel, then went to get ready for a night out. I put together the least elaborate "costume" I had done in years, but to be fair, nobody else was all that impressive either.
We met some people in the room across the balcony from us and went out as a group to a club with a live band on. We danced, I made decent friends with a Finnish girl named Tiia who I ended up going to another club with and taking smashed photos with the janitors in the bathroom, got some food at a vendor outside, and eventually made it home.
Ubud
The next day was the best day, and the day I will always think of when I remember Bali. Simpson showed up at our hotel around noon to pick me up on his moped. I totally felt like a teenager before prom or something being so nervous about going around with a stranger, and Sean was like my dad actually walking me outside, taking our photos, and reassuring me that I'd have the best time.
Well, I did have the best time! I was excited but a little freaked out about the motorbike ride although I got my own helmet and everything, and I held on tightly at first, but it wasn't as fast or scary as I expected. It was so much fun and so amazing to be zooming around Bali with a local.
The traffic cleared up once we left Kuta and jumped on the highway which was then followed by some smaller towns. I took out my camera during a water stop to hold the rest of the ride as we were passing all sorts of cool scenery, statues, and temples.
After about an hour, we made it to Ubud. The first stop was the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, and YES, that is just as amazing as it sounds. Monkeys are my favorite animal in the whole world and I had never had a chance to interact with them up close and so I was beside myself with excitement. We pulled up and there were Balinese macaques just hanging out there in the wild right in front of us.
Simpson had no interest in seeing tourist places, so he told me he'd wait out front for me while I went exploring. I bought a $5 bundle of bananas to feed the monkeys and started on the path through the forest. I completely remember coming around the first turn onto a path with no other people and just seeing a large group of monkeys congregated right in the middle. I actually was almost frozen in excitement. I started handing out bananas and they would walk right up to take them out of my hands. There were even babies! It was too adorable.
I continued around the path to find the main temple, and here I encountered my first scary monkey. I was handing a banana to a little guy when all of a sudden this gigantic one walked up to interfere. I'd hand him a banana, he'd smash it into his mouth, then two seconds later he'd be back demanding another one. He was grabbing onto me pulling on my shorts, even pulling my top down at one point (and as you can probably tell, I was definitely not wearing a bra), and wouldn't let go until I'd give him another banana! I had no intentions of using my whole stash on this alpha male, so I quickly retreated from the area.
This dick.
Of course I had now run out of food, but luckily around the next turn these two Indonesian guys offered to get the monkeys to actually jump on me for just 20,000 Rupiah, aka $2. That was beyond worth the money, so I agreed, and one at a time they'd hand me these little crackers to hold in my hand. Within seconds, there was a monkey on my shoulder! Aaahh! It was a dream come true! The guys had even taken my camera and took endless amounts of photos for me.
That little monkey quickly jumped off though and I was just looking at him and encouraging him to jump back on when I felt a gigantic thump as a huge weight landed on my shoulder. There was a much larger monkey on me now (a serious possibility that it was the same asshole from earlier), and he stuck around. The guys kept putting crackers in my hand and even got him to climb on my head by putting one there. It was so cool.
After I had sufficiently filled half my memory card of photos of myself with monkeys, I thanked the guys and continued on. I couldn't enter any of the temples because I wasn't properly covered, but I wandered through the central areas with trees and a fountain, then went down some stone stairs framed by animal statues to the Holy Springs Temple. This was the prettiest area. There was a wide well area filled with water and the temple rose up behind it. The whole thing was surrounded by trees and of course more monkeys, so it was very ancient and hidden temple-like.
I made my way back out with a monkey jumping across my back like a stepping stone, saw a few monkeys trying to break open the food crate, another one that had turned on the sprinkler to drink, and met Simpson back in the parking lot. Needless to say, it had been the highlight of my trip.
We hopped back on his bike and drove further into Ubud to visit some rice paddies. They were so picturesque and so green!
There were little shops and restaurants above with views over the whole thing, but I walked down the very steep stairs by myself (Simpson once again declined to join), and then walked through the rice paddies. It was so peaceful. I hardly ran into any other people, and I could hear this wooden drum or chime music in the distance.
I went up a few tiers, having to pay a donation to the farmers to pass through at one point, and I came to this wooden hut where a man in a straw cone hat was selling coconuts. He spoke almost no English whatsoever, but I paid for a coconut and he chopped it open for me and put a straw in it so I could drink the water. I sat there just enjoying the moment and really absorbing the feeling that I was in Asia, then I turned back because I didn't want to pay the bridge fee to continue onwards.
It took about an hour to drive back to Kuta, and by the time we got there I was tired, hot, and my ass was hurting from sitting on that bike. Simpson only asked for $30 for the full day tour, which I was more than happy to pay him. I'd had an amazing time!
On a total side note, while I was going through my photos from Bali again while writing, I happened across this one that I took from the moped as we were passing the end of a cremation ceremony. Can anyone tell me WHAT is in that picture? Look to the right of the people in the clearing and please note the headless humanoid figure that is growing leaves. WHAT IS THAT.
I had dinner at a sushi place that night with Sean, Tiia, and another couple we'd met the night before. The tables were on a raised wooden platform outside and we just sat on pillows on the ground. It was cheap and delicious, and I had a seaweed salad, sushi egg rolls, tempura vegetables, and a beer all for under $10.
After dinner, Sean, Tiia, and I went for drinks at a bar down an alleyway called Alley Cats, also outdoors. I had a good time but the other two were absolutely hammered. It was a great day but I was happy to go to sleep since I was very tired out and still sick as well.
Uluwatu & Kuta
I had a nice last day in Bali. Sean and I took a cab to Uluwatu for an hour or two. We first visited a temple where we were given sarongs to cover up.
It was pretty large, and we weren't allowed to walk through some areas as they were celebrating the Buddhist Christmas (which I somehow imagine has a different name). There were some great views along the temple path overlooking the cliffside, and also more monkeys! We had peanuts to feed them this time. One of the funniest moments to me was when a group of Asians came up to ask for a group photo with me and Sean as if we were celebrities. I hope they have it framed in their house somewhere.
Afterwards, we had the cabbie take us to the famous Uluwatu surf spot. According to Sean, it has the third highest waves in the world, and I don't care enough to fact-check that information. There were little surf shops and food stalls up on the hill overlooking the sea, and we stopped in the Iguana Cafe for some banana pancakes. Also according to Sean, these are the banana pancakes that influenced Jack Johnson's song, so you know, you expect some damn good pancakes. They were pretty great to be fair and were covered in honey instead of syrup, and we had those along with a beer while sitting at a table looking out at the ocean.
The views were awesome with the clear blue water, surfers, cliffs, beach cove down below.
Everyone signs the walls in the Iguana Cafe, and on his last two trips, Sean had signed the same plank that surfer Kelly Slater has signed, so I put my name on the same one. Then we took some touristy photos both wearing our Bintang shirts with the sea behind us and caught a cab back to Kuta.
The rest of the day was spent on the beach. We met up with Tiia, a Finnish guy, and an American, and the five of us just sat around drinking beers and relaxing.
I paid a Balinese woman $8 for a full body massage and it was so amazingly worth it. She put a blanket on the sand and I laid out while she did my back, arms, legs, neck, and even ass for a full 40 minute massage! So great.
We took photos at sunset, left after dark to get some dinner as a costumed parade made their way past and even into the restaurant, and then I collected my things and got a taxi to the airport.
Of course, I almost wasn't allowed to leave. As I learned, it's not a great idea to just depart a country without even letting them know, and so I got stopped at baggage check as my passport told security that I was still meant to be in Australia. Apparently I'm not allowed to just hop on a flight out of Oz without having my passport stamped or telling the government! Oops! Oversight.
I assured the woman that I was most definitely not in Australia seeing as I was standing in front of her in Indonesia, and I even offered to show her photos of myself in the plane on the way to Bali to back up my story. The Balinese customs guy hadn't even stamped my passport in, only stamped my departure card. They made a lot of phone calls while I waited an hour and congratulated myself on finally being early for a change and saving my own ass, then they finally put through a government override and I was allowed to head on.
Not really though, because I was taken away again as I tried to go through customs and herded into an office where a guy had me sit and wait while he checked on my lack of a stamp. I tried to explain that I had just been through this, but no luck. He didn't keep me nearly as long, although I'm fairly sure he told me that letting me go meant I had to give him a call if I was ever back in Bali. Being detained and then hit on by the same person in the span of ten minutes was definitely a new experience.
After this crazy trip, I was finally back on a plane to Australia, feeling lucky to have had such a random and weird opportunity turn out so well and also to have survived it all. It was an extremely memorable first trip to Asia, and I decided I would absolutely go back to see more one day. First though, I had one last month in Australia to wrap this chapter up.