After 10 days of living a life of air-conditioned comfort in singapore, it's finally time to head of into the unknown once again. Now the plan is to head to Indonesia, but having checked the US and UK foreign office web pages this seems like guaranteed suicide. Here's what they have to say:

http://travel.state.gov/indonesia.html

www.fco.gov.uk/travel/countryadvice.asp

basic summary: If your not there yet, don't go. If you're there already, leave.

So what should I do? Should I follow the advice of the western governments, or should I follow my instincts? Do the indonesians really want my head on a pole, or is that just stupid ignorant propoganda? Well there's only one way to find out... join me as I go to Indonesia in search of someone who wants me dead.....

24th July 03

I left my gf at the ferry termial in singapore. I had to say a very fast goodbye as my eyes were starting to leak. The ferry ride to batam was very unexceptional, except for my trying not to cry the whole way, but as soon as I reached batam and turned right out of the ferry terminal, things went crazy. All the singaporeans turned left towards their cheap brothel day trips, but turning right led me to the domestic ferry terminal. After about 6 metres I walked into another world! Suddenly I was hit by a barrage of noise as the ticket vendors competed to shout over one another. I went up to the first counter and was quoted 81,000 rupiah, 31,000 more than "the book" said, so I pressed on. I soon discovered that the book was full of shit, and paid up. As I wen't through to board, every single person smiled at me and said hello. After singapore it was quite surreal! Even the guy taking money for "seaport tax" looked at my ticket and said "Billy...mmm, that's a good name...mmm, yes, very good name", before handing me my tax coupon with a smile. Then the customs guy wanted me to stop and explain to him how my remote for my MD player worked. Then as I aproached the ferry an oldish guy came running up going "Hello! Hello! Show me your ticket!". Now, I'm naturally suspicious these days, so I showed it to him but held on to the corner firmly. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed breaking ito a huge grin, "seat 47!", as if this was just as he had suspected. For some reason he kept ruffling my hair like you would to a small child, which was quite an effort for him as he was at least 2 feet shorter than me!

He led me onto the ferry (I was starting to realise that this was rather special treatment) and to my seat. Then he anounced to me and anyone else who would listen, "Look, you white skin, everyone else brown skin! You the only one!". "Yes, that's right!", I agreed enthusiastically, and feeling obliged to live up to my newly given celebrity status, I said Hi and smiled and waved to the two guys sat behind me as I took my seat.

As the journey began I got chatting with the guy behind me, who's name turned out to be Doni (Dooney). He was a graduate and had been working for an oil company in Batam for 3 months before the company collapsed and he was laid off. Now he was on his way back to his hometown of pekanbaru for his friend's graduation ceremony. About 3 mins into the conversation (before i had found out any of this stuff about him), after he had found out that I was going to be stayig in pekanbaru for a night before heading to bukkittingi, he offered to let me stay at his place, and said he could be my guide, take care of me etc etc. Now as I have mentioned before, 6 months of travel have made me naturally wary of anyone who offers me anything for free, as it invariably ends with a sob story about some dire situation that can only be resovled by a generous donation of my cash! So I politely declined, saying that I needed a hotel as I was really tired and wated to sleep in the afternoon. Doni reluctantly agreed but then started arranging how he could help me find a hotel near his house! After he explained that his house was near the Bus Station I figured what the hell. I was starting to trust the guy!

He asked me if I was a christian or a muslim and then laughed in amazement when I told him niether. "But don't you want to go to heaven?!" he asked me in disbelief. I told him I figured if jesus was really as forgiving as he says he is, that he'd probably let me in anyway. He clearly saw this attitude as being a rather big gamble and looked at me with an almost admirable disbelief, as if I had just told him I was going to hike everest i my underwear on the off-chance that it wasn't cold.

Once the ferry arrived in Sumatra we all had to pile onto a small bus, and I was told that my bag would have to be put on the roof. Then, after I had got on the bus, reluctantly leaving my bag with the lads outside, one of them got on and told me I had to pay 5000 rupiah (about 60 cents) for my bag! I was used to this kind of thing from india and nepal, and I figured it was the same. In India (with some exceptions) they only ask the foreigners for money, and I found the easiest way to avoid an argument was just to put my own bag on the roof. So, I got up to go out and do this, and Doni came with me. He spoke to the boys in indonesian for a minute and then reached in his pocket, pulled out 5000, and paid them!! Before I had a chance to reach for my bag OR my money belt! I tried to give him the money back, but he wouldn't take it. When i tried to explain that they were just asking me for money because I was foreign, he said no, he had just asked them and everyone had to pay.... So, feeling stingy and a bit guilty for doubting his honesty, I got back on board.

The bus ride made my worst Indian or nepalese bus trips seem like a cruise down the Auto-Bahn in a new BMW. The "road" from the ferry terminal to Pekanbaru was made from a combination of dust and rocks. I still have a significant amount of the dust with me in my nose, throat and lungs. What was the most amazing was the speed at which the bus drove over this uneven, rocky terrain. It practically flew! What i found particulary ironic was that while the boat ride had been fast and smooth, the bus ride was making me decidedly sea-sick...

The high point of the bus rtide for me was when we came to a ferry river crossing. As the bus waited for the ferry, hoardes of food hawkers started climbing on the bus or shouting through the windows, trying to entice us to try their salted peanuts, or these small speckled blue eggs that looked decidedly endangered... Then, just as the bus pulled onto the ferry, a boy jumped on carrying a guitar. I assumed he was a passenger, but as the ferry pulled away, he lifted his guitar, jostled himself some space in the already crowded aisle, and began to play. At first he just seemed to be banging out some random chords and talking over them in Indonesian, but then the song began proper, and I have to say, it was pretty catchy! He sung us all the way to the other side and then pulled out a piece of magazine folded into a makeshift envelope and went around collecting money. Genius! I think the buskers in the london Underground could learn from this: why play to a mobile crowd in a rush when you could get ON the tube and have a captive audience!?