Layover

I have been curious about Indonesia for a couple of years now. Sometimes when I would speak of Thailand, folks would say "yes, but you should see Bali."

It had been knocking around on my checklist of places to go, just waiting for a sign that I should pull the trigger.

Then late last year, my friend Chad told me he'd be living in Ubud, Bali for a few months. Another friend, Lilian had also told me that she really loved Ubud.

That was sign enough for me.

Having a friend in a far off place, especially one that knows his way around always makes a huge difference when traveling in a far-off place.

At Chad's going away party in San Francisco, I told him to expect a visit from me in February. I wasn't sure he entirely believed me. But I was sure.

I had some trouble choosing a flight. I had to juggle price, itinerary, comfort, and the ability to use a big bundle of flier miles. I ended up choosing Singapore Airlines, mainly by prioritizing flier miles and comfort. Since they are in my United program, I should be able to get close to a free international flight by combining miles from this trip and opening a new United credit card account.

For that, however, I really compromised on itinerary. This trip would have two stops and take 27 hours. One stop in Seoul, Korea, and another eight hour stop in Singapore. I had heard Singapore Airport is a great one for a long layover. They have places to sleep, shower, watch free movies, etc. I even heard they give bus tours around Singapore for people with long layovers without having to clear immigration. But I'd be there in the middle of the night, so that didn't seem likely for me.

So after sixteen hours of traveling, I was set free inside the Singapore airport around midnight.

I hoped to find a nice place to take a good solid nap. But I had two problems. 1) Since it was afternoon SF time, I wasn't remotely sleepy even though I hadn't slept much on the plane, and 2) I hadn't made any reservation in the airport's transit hotel.

So I set out to explore this layover wonderland I had heard so much about.

There was no wonderland. Only a creepy, deserted, giant airport terminal. It kind of reminded me of The Shining with its exquisite, long empty corridors.

There were a few people scattered about trying to sleep with coats over their heads in airport chairs. But I heard there were couches, so I set out to find one.

I found a nice quiet area with lounge chairs and plopped down on one, but soon realized I had a problem. My phone's battery was almost dead, so I didn't trust its alarm would wake me up to catch my flight. So now I needed a chair near an outlet.

I probably walked two or three miles, circling around nooks and crannies, trying to plug my phone into different jacks. I had an adapter for Indonesia, but not for Singapore. Ugh.

I could only find good outlets at laptop counters. So since I wasn't tired anyway, I decided to plug in and read for an hour and then go back to the lounge to nap.

After an hour I still had another task to accomplish though. Chad had requested a bottle of tequila since liquor is very expensive in Bali and I was allowed to enter the country with one liter of alcohol. I intended to buy a duty free bottle and carry it on the final leg of my flight. But the duty free shop said I should buy it from the same terminal as my flight. And, sorry, but the train for the other terminal is shut down until 5 am.

By now it was 3 am. I walked by the free movie theater and took a seat hoping to get sleepy. They were showing Flying High starring George Clooney. It was going fine until the movie kept skipping backward 30 minutes and showing the same part over again.

Oh well. It was 5, so I took the train to my terminal, bought some tequila, and re-settled there. No real sleep but thankful to be done moving around.

The aiport began to revive, and became the bustling place you'd expect. I closed my eyes for a an hour or so, but still couldn't sleep.

After the two hours, the flight landed at the airport in Denpasar, Bali, I cleared immigration, and got my pack.

Chad had told me he'd have a driver pick me up and he'd have a sign with my name. There were sign people all over the airport, so I was a little nervous leaving the building since I might have passed him inside. Outside there were tons of signs. I walked by the line of people, squinting at each small sign.

Then I heard, "Miles!"

There was Chad and the driver, Nyoman. Quite a welcome sight.

After a big hug and my apology for being a zombie, Chad bought a couple of beers at the airport curbside bar (yes curbside), and we walked to the car.

I asked, "Is this ok? Driving around with beers?"

He said, "This is Indonesia, man!"