Thread: I wake up to my first day after retirement

Did I say having time? I am busier now than I have ever been, there is just so much to do. I have to make provision for all the mundane things like transferring standing orders, direct debits, change of address, sorting out pension, gas, electric, telephone et al. Then I realise wait a minute, you are only going for six months so you only have to sort things out for then. Yes I know I say to myself but what about money. I will need that. How do I get that to wherever I am. What about the children my wife asks? The hell with them I say, they are old enough and big enough to look after themselves. Ah I think to myself but would I trust them. Who can I get to look after them or more especially to see they do not burn the house down whilst we are away. Too many questions, not enough answers, time to move on.

Spoke in Indonesian today with great difficulty. Speaking to an educated Javanese is not the same as speaking Bahasa Pasar (market language) The heavy Javanese twang makes it difficult at the best of times but when the expanded words come out I realise I only really know the root words that are spoken daily. Still I understand one thing. If I want to get the visa I will have to travel to the embassy (consulate) to get it. The embassy thinks everybody lives in capital cities. Having no car any more we decide to let the train take the strain of travelling to London. Ha!! That was a mistake. There are 19 different price structure from £25 return if you book 17 years in advance or £150 if you want to go today. The flight is cheaper but takes longer. What!! the flight takes longer. Well if you take the 11/2 journey to the airport, the check in time of 2 hours before the flight, the 1 hour flight and the 1 hour to get to the centre of London, it certainly takes longer than the 3 hour train journey. Well I book a cheap day return a week in advance and the price comes down considerably (silly thing to do as we shall see).

The day comes and the taxi is at the door. Come on darling lets go or we will be late I cry. Just a minute I hear. I know then that it will be closer to half an hour because for some reason known only to the almighty, all women from the primitive to the sophisticated, from no matter if it is eastern or western or northern or southern societies can never, ever, get ready on time. Whether it is a loin cloth or a Dior dress they all take at least two hours to get ready, but do not start until one and a half hours before we need to go.

The taxi driver now wants an extra £5 for waiting but we are on our way. I must admit she looks gorgeous but think all of this could have been done on the train toilet before getting off the train and being freshened up. I explain this but obviously I still know nothing about women because all of this was for the journey and the people on it. As usual I can never understand this logic so I just say, yes dear. We arrive at the train station and I am suprised at how busy it is and then remember many of these people are commuting to work. Very strange for me as I have never done this almost all of my working life. Then the bright thought pops into my head that I will not have to do this ever :-)

We board the train and go to our assigned seats. Above the seats are new (to me) electronic name tags. I look at my seat allocation 53a and b forward facing only to be greeted with another name. I find a steward who informs me my tickets are not valid for this train and I can only travel after 9.30am after all the commuters have left.
ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!. :-( :-( Ok I know its my fault and I know I should have checked but I am not used to the vagueries of the system because I am never here. How to make the most of this? Yes you have guessed it, a full English breakfast is called for. An hour later full of cholesterol I feel much better and get on the 9.35 for Euston London. Two hours and forty minutes later we arrive after a quite and peaceful journey (apart from a few digs in the ribs if my snoring woke up the other passangers)

We go across London by underground and end up at the Indonesia embassy later than I had planned. No suprise then to find they were closed for Lunch and re-open at 14.30. We waited for the appointed time and were first in the queue. We were then told that we had to submit the application in the mornings only and that the afternoons were for collection. I explained we had been travelling all morning and would she kindly help us process the application now as we had to get the train back tonight. She repeated her first statement. I know from past experience that losing your temper does not work. No matter how much you want to blow, you have to keep your cool. Over to you my darling. My wife tries the Uriah Heep obsequious technique which seems to work on petty officials all over the world and gets the official to accept the application today for collection tomorrow. A minor victory. True enough after spending the night in a hotel that though was not great, managed to be very expensive, we got the passports back stamped with the visa and went home.

TBC

Now we have the visa's it is time to book the tickets. Should be a simple enough procedure you tell them

where you want to go ask them to find the most direct route and then find the cheapest fare. Yes? No!!! First

I tell them that I want a ticket to Makkassar formerly known as Ujung Pandang formerly known as

Makkassar. I tell them I want to go via Singapore. Simple enough you might think but it would seem to get

to where want to go I will have to go via Jakarta because the are no longer any direct flights to Makkassar.

I ask them the price and they quote me enough for a round the world trip twice. It looks like further

research is needed.

I go on the Internet and find a much more reasonable price.........if I decide to fly via Moscow Grrrrrrrrrrr.

Eventually Royal Brunei comes to the rescue but I still have to fly via Brunei to Jakarta, over night there

before catching a plane next day. It used to be so simple. Fly to Singapore in one stop and then have a

day in there shopping courtesy of the airline before getting a direct flight via Silk air. Obviously some kind

of protectionism has stoped that. Ok price is right got the air tickets and booked the flight. Should be plain

sailing from here yes? No!!!!!!

Now the kids start to get agitated, 14 to 22 and have never cooked, cleaned or washed and ironed in their

life. Oh Mam, Oh Dad, who will look after us. YOU I shout but of course my wife cannot just abandon her

babies like that and starts on an almighty cook out. I buy another freezer so she can store her cooked

meals. Arrangements are made with friends and neighbors to help out but in the end it is decided that as it

is summer holiday time the youngest will come with us for 2 months. The older two boys and my 19 year

old daughter are threatend with death and worse if they fight, have wild parties or other similar things. For

money my daughter says she will do the ironing. Inside my head I want them all to come and will miss

them so much but they want to stay in England.

Taxi is waiting at the door and this time two of the women in my life are ready on time. My sons start to load

the suitcases. I take a glance and see 3 massive cases bursting to the seams. I ask my wife what are we

bringing that is taking so much weight. It seems she has all of the old clothes since we last visited 5 years

ago. One suitcase was for the 3 of us the other two massive containers were clothes for the poorer

members of our extended family. Only one case would fit in the boot (yes they were that big) and the

others were squeezed into the back seat. Off we go to the airport. Now at the checkin the attendent is

looking at our cases in amazement. You are entitled to 60 kilos sir and you have 100. Suddenly I feel my

wallet is going to be considerably lighter in a few minutes.

I get my women to put on their best doe eyed look and I wrinkle my face even more as I seek sympathy

from the attendent. I explain that I have just retired and I am going to look at my new home because we

cannot afford to stay here. I ask gently can she help us and let us off with some. I do not know what worked

but something did and she only charged us for 10 kilo's and booked the luggage through. We struggled

onto the concourse with our hand baggage which must have weighed another 40 kilos between us. After

loading up with Wine and presents at the duty free it was a Starbucks for me whilst waiting to board the

plane. Can somebody tell me why a cup of standard American coffee is so bloody expensive.

We board the plane and settle in for the long flights and the 4 take offs and landings we will have before arriving.

TBC

The flight was uneventful but oh so long. Having never been to Brunei before the stopover there was interesting but too short to form a proper opinion. Jakarta on the other hand has advanced so much even just the journey from the airport shows the big differences. The build up of the city expanding much further than before was a real eyeopener. This was badly needed having spent 2 days and a night to get here, Went to the Kartika Plaza for the night and prepared to get up at 3am for the 5am flight to Makkassar. Decided to have a bottle of Bintang before sleeping. When I got the bill I almost died. Talk about inflation still that very slight sweetness brought back a lot of happy memories. We ordered a couple of bowls of Mie Kuah and retired early.

Next morning or the middle of the night we went to the airport for the flight to Sulewesi. At least we are going in the right direction due east and will over fly Bali on the way. 2 hours later we arrive and are met by 2 of my brother in laws and my wife's younger sister. After suitable greetings and many hugs and kisses we get in a car and drive to the city. The bus for Tanah Toraja leaves at 10am and we have a little over an hour to catch it. I remember going before many times with trepidation as it is a 10 hour journey to go 300 miles over twisting roads and after a 100miles and reaching the sea port of Pare Pare is vertical up the hills. Memories come flooding back. The Salak sellers are in the same place and I buy several kilo's of them some for the journey and some for the kids in the kampung. We stop for lunch at one of the many warungs. Rumah Makans which cater for the tourists but the menu is still the same. Fish or stringy chicken. No McDonalds here I am happy to report.

One thing is good in that the buses are now airconditioned and instead of feeling aboslutely wrecked I am quite sprightly as we arrive in Makale. Now I have been travelling 3 days and tonight will be the third night not counting the night on the plane or am I losing track of time.. Fortunately extended family have a small hotel here and I book into this at heavily discounted rates. I sit on the balcony outside and drink my Kopi tebruk. How I have missed this. Pure robusta coffee that the bottom inch is just pure sludge. None of your fancy Aribica's here all that is sold for profit. No caffeine free rubbish this, one cup and your eyeballs are zinging.

Next day we get the 25 year old Kijang for the last leg of the journey just 5 hours up to the hills on a road all the villagers have made by hand from local stones. Bridges are old trunks of trees or thick bamboo but even during the rainy season it always gets through. I cast my mind back 20 years to my first vist when I had to push the bloody thing through several feet of mud. We reach the market place where the local school and weekly markets are held. Now I see the faces that I recognise. Some one comes out with water and a sweet cup of Wangi tea and we get all the usual questions. After the tea there is 5 km to walk to get to the house but word has gone ahead and extended family children have been dispatched to carry those blood great suitcases. An hour later and me puffing a bit because of the hills we arrive in OUR Kampung.

My mother in law is waiting and I greet her with open arms. Tears are running down my face, some are of joy and others are of sadness for all the wasted time I have spent away from MY family. My wife is like an eigtheen year old again talking twenty to the dozen in her native language. The only words I ever learnt were to ask for rice (candi bobur) and water(Candi Moya). Both of which I said now and everyone exploded into laughter. I looked around at the rice terraces cascading down the hills, the coffee drying on reed mats and at my family. Those wonderful faces that held no guile only open and friendliness to me. I looked at the quiet dignity of my father in law whose countenance is wrinkled by the exposure to the sun and a lifetime of hard work. I looked at my wife back in the bosom of her family but always glancing at me to see I am OK. Yes I was truly appreciative of my first day back in Indonesia after retirement,

Now I have to make my plans for the future and Bali. I hope to share these with you soon.