Off to a bad start...

There's something about morning flights. Specifically, there's a feeling of anguish as you go to bed the night before wondering if you will doze off or simply sleep through the alarm clock. And having to get up at five sure adds to the tension. All is well though, I check out in good order and after a nervous short wait in the street manage to shakedown a taxi. Today's haul is a mere four hours, and it feels good knowing they will be spent in the hands of a respectable airline, even though the added comfort comes at the price of being far from exotic. The wide body is mainly filled with western tourists, and upon landing at Ngurah Rai we are herded into two lots, those qualifying for a Visa on Arrival, and those who do not.

Sweden, having granted asylum to a number of the GAM leaders (striving to gain independence for Aceh province) is one of the last countires in the western world that still require a visa, so I am promptly shown to a seemingly forgotten appendix of the arrival hall where we are stuck in the slowest moving queue I ever saw. The constant ringing of wind chimes adds to the tension. So much for being cultural. Having passed through immigration we are greeted with a big red sign: "Welcome to Bali. Drug traffickers will be executed." Well, it's nice to be here, thank you very much. I collect my bag, exchange one of my useless 100 USD bills for some rupiah and start looking for the airline offices. My plan is to get on the next available flight for Dili, and knowing it only departs in the morning I also need to choose one of a seemingly endless supply of hotels and resorts for the night.

I am in luck, at least there is no trouble getting an open return ticket to Dili, valid for 30 days. Afterwards I try my luck with one of the hotel reservation agencies and decide to remain in nearby Kuta as opposed to my original plan of finding a business hotel in Denpasar. I am not so sure it was a wise choice. Riding through Kuta is the most klaustrophobic experience I have had. Brand shops, restaurants, bars, hotels, resorts and what not, it makes Phuket and Khao San pale in comparison. Fortunately my hotel is in a relatively quiet backyard, but it feels a bit eerie, as I cannot seem to find any other guests around.

I guess I am not really being fair to the place, but I decide to stay in my room and do the laundry instead of going out. I feel I am not exactly missing anything. Having been to Moynaq and back I am also a bit appalled by the standard of the hotel, at this price and location I would have expected a bit more class for the money. Nevertheless, tomorrow morning I am flying out of this place so I choose not to invest emotionally in it. I am sure the small lizard on the wall above my bed feels the same way.

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Part of trip: Aral madness in Timor

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