Vietnam to Bali Part 1

I absolutely had to get out of South East Asia. After spending months traveling at a break neck speed through various countries, it was time to leave. I flew back to Saigon via Tiger Air from Pho Quot Island and spent a couple of days wandering around with different sets of people. I randomly ran into an American couple I had met way back in Thailand and we spent a day exploring Saigon, particularly the war museum. The museum itself is a different blog for a different time, but suffice it to say I was deeply moved by it. It was horrendously done, with massive propaganda against the US, but some of the photos and facts presented made me cry.

I walked into a travel agency and randomly pointed to Bali on the map. "Ok, that's where I am going now" I thought. Less than 24 hours later I was in the air on my way to Jakarta for an overnight 6 hour layover. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I was setting up my flights, but man did I pay for it. The day I left Saigon I was up at my normal time, around 7 am. I met my American friends and then took a taxi to the airport for my 8 pm flight to Jakarta. We were slightly delayed in leaving, so we didn't actually land in Jakarta until almost 1 am. My flight to Bali was at 6:20 am the next morning. In my naivety I assumed I would be able to grab a few hours of sleep in the airport, by now I am quite used to sleeping whenever and wherever I can.
No such luck.

I lined up for immigration and encountered some of the nicest people I have met at immigration posts thus far. Simply put, they love Americans. I was bombarded with facts about Obama and learned that he lived there as a school child. One of the initial immigration guys got a look at my first name on my passport and so the "Lara Tomb Raider" nickname was given to me and followed me for much of the night. It was 1:30 am before I got through immigration and grabbed my bag. Ok, now for a nice bench to park my ass on and sleep. No such luck. Every seat was taken and I ended up hanging out with a couple of Irish hippie boys and their guitars outside the building, taking requests from the local boys hanging around us. Which mainly turned out to be ColdPlay. The guys soon left to grab a flight and I wandered aimlessly, ending up close to immigration once again. A couple of the officials, with nothing else to do, pulled out a chair and had me sit with them. They drank coffee and smoked right in the middle of immigration in the middle of the airport and chatted with me about all things American and Indonesian. After a while, a deck of cards was produced and we began to play. I'm not sure how many people get to say that they played cards in the dead of the night in the Jakarta International terminal with Immigration official, but I can. That's what I love about this whole journey, I never know what will happen.

I finally boarded my flight at 6 am after being awake for nearly 24 hours. I tried to sleep on the plane with no luck. The flight was 4 hours and I was a zombie disembarking in Bali. I grabbed a cab to head to Legian and a group of guest-houses. They were all absolutely horrid, so I ended up wandering the streets for nearly 2 hours, with my 26 pound backpack strapped to me and finally found a terrific little place, of which I am still at. I had been awake nearly 40 hours before I finally crashed. Never again will I do that.

Part 2 coming soon!

Peace, love, and joy!

Lara