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Tag 64 - Uniformed

Rakabudiswa: 08.07.2019

03.07.19

We have breakfast together with Ian and Lucy and chat a little while we drink our coffee. This time we are well prepared for the 'Internet café without internet' and march armed with a USB stick to print. We are handed our little passports stretched out on an A4 sheet and then we leave.

In search of a scooter, we walk along the river again, but once again we are disappointed. We only find a satisfactory offer when we continue searching in the tourist area. We rent a small scooter for three days from the nice lady (about 12€) and, unlike in Thailand or Cambodia, we don't have to leave any deposit (usually passport).

Excited to be mobile and independent again, we take off. Unfortunately, our driving pleasure is cut short after five minutes - we encounter a police check (Razia!), which we could not avoid. Anyone who looks even remotely like a tourist is pulled over and gets their driver's license taken away. If the driver's license does not meet the expectations of the local 'police', you have to follow an officer to a backyard - unfortunately, we belong to the unlucky ones (although it's also our fault for leaving our international driver's license at home). We park our scooter and go accompanied by a group of police officers who are gathered around their patrol cars. There are already a handful of tourists standing around looking unhappy. Notes are being made, fines are being exchanged, and language barriers are being strained. Our scooter key, the copy of the vehicle registration document, and the driver's license are taken from us and meticulously scrutinized. From the very poor English, we hear information like: 'scooter must stay here,' 'driving without a license - 60€!', and 'only a copied vehicle registration document = bad!'. We are completely overwhelmed, trying to convey to the impatient officer that we can also get our international driver's license (after all, we have only been driving for five minutes), but he is rather unyielding! We see other tourists helplessly paying 1,000,000 Indonesian Rupiah (equivalent to 62€) and in our desperation, we call Ian. He tells us on the phone not to pay under any circumstances and not to let ourselves be intimidated. 'Don't show any money! Try to bribe them (with about 6€)!'. Unfortunately, the police don't respond to that. However, the fact that we obviously had a conversation with a local on the phone does make an impression. So for some reason, we get our key and the papers back from the scooter. However, the driver's license is stapled into a document and confiscated. 'Uhhh... and now?'. I am supposed to sign some document, obey in this pressured situation, and get the copy. We are now proud owners of a completely illegible, blue piece of paper. Nobody speaks to us anymore. Feeling somewhat confused, we linger for a while and try to get attention again - it doesn't really work. Then, a surprisingly nice policeman, who speaks reasonably good English, approaches us from the background and tries to explain the content of the document. According to him, we should simply go to the scooter rental and show them the blue paper there; they should be able to tell us what we need to do to get our driver's license back. We would have up to three weeks for that. Not really any wiser, but at least somewhat relieved, we are allowed to continue our journey.

We continue towards Immigrasi (visa authority). We navigate from police check to our destination through an endless traffic jam and arrive after 20 minutes. Well prepared, we enter the building and realize that we have arrived right during lunch break. We knew about this break, but lost track of time due to the police check. Okay, then we take a break too and go to the supermarket. The half hour flies by and we are back at the counter ahead of schedule. To our surprise, we still cannot take a number. A visa agent points out to us that the extension application can only be done before lunch hour. 'Nice day,' we think. We try to turn the tables around and go for guaranteed quality - so off to the beach. We drive through nice small streets and arrive at the beach after a fifteen-minute drive. It looks really nice at first glance. We are on the east coast and the water is much shallower, crystal clear, and calmer. We walk along the beach and look for a place in the shade. We find one at the end of the bay, where we happily spread out our things; it's at this moment that I realize I left my phone in a compartment on the scooter (open access!). Just as I am about to go back, Jonna is informed by a uniformed security guard that the upper section of the beach (and thus all the shaded areas) is reserved for hotel guests. However, we can use the uncomfortable steep three-meter area in the surf to lie down. Thank you very much, dear security guard. By the way: the sun loungers, which we deliberately kept several meters away from, were unused, just like almost all of them in that area. An idiot in uniform is still an idiot - could become the motto of the day.

We keep calm and have one more trick up our sleeve: a turtle rescue center. We drive a large part of the way back and end up on a peninsula that exudes a dreamy fishing village atmosphere. Since it is low tide, the breakwaters are not flooded, but you have a good view of crabs, water birds, and mangroves. We enjoy the fantastic scenery and arrive at the turtles - admission is free. We are immediately greeted by a young Muslim woman who provides us with information and shows us around.







We would love to adopt a turtle (10€ donation), but unfortunately, this is not possible because the center does not have enough young turtles to meet the demand of tourists - which is also okay.

We leave the center again and on the way back, we stop at a restaurant overlooking the mangroves. Since we are not in the mood for fish and there is only seafood available here, we only order a cola, play a round, and enjoy the atmosphere.


Tired of the day, we drive back home and heat up the remaining pasta from yesterday. Delicious! To make sure we can finally extend our visa tomorrow, we set an alarm (we seem to have to do this more often than we thought before the trip) and go to bed.


- Jonna and Alex

Pindura

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