It must have been the jet-lag—after a restless night I fell fast asleep early in the morning and slept it out completely! Had to rush to pick up the ticket for the flight to Surabaya from the travel agent in the nearby shopping mall. Then dashed around the corner to take the MRT to the airport. I needn't have worried—the flight was delayed.

A Welcome

At Surabaya airport I had to change money. There was a money changer in the customs hall, so I went over there to change money. One thing that I don't like about the money changers in the airport (as on the last occasion in Surabaya also) is that they are surrounded by a gang of very unsavoury-looking characters, who immediately start the "Hello, mister" act when you approach the counter, and peer over your shoulder as you extract the required notes.

Then I had to place my luggage through a scanner. As I was waiting for it to come out, I was approached by one of the police officers and asked to come into his office, a little room with a chair and desk just off the customs area. He was a stout middle-aged unfit-looking chap who couldn't speak very good English. He asked me for my passport, which I handed over. He turned over the pages several times, then looked up at me and said:
"Give me some money."
That was the last thing I expected. I've crossed borders hundreds of times in over forty countries, but I'd never come across this before! Time to act dumb.
"Em, I'm sorry, is there a problem?" I said.
"Passport, not good. Give me money now."
In situations like this your mind races. I recalled those dodgy-looking characters at the money-changers. They must have seen the wad of cash I had for Japan, as credit cards are not much used in that country. I needed to stall him to have time to weigh up all the options.
"Em, how much money do you want, and what for? And can you tell me precisely what the problem is?"
This was too much for his limited command of the language. He grunted and pointed at the passport, as if it was clear that this was the root of the problem.
Now I was thinking, if I give him ten dollars (or the equivalent in rupiahs), he might look for twenty, if I give him twenty he might look for fifty, and so on. I had about 2,000 Euros in cash and travellers checks for Japan—if I don't play my cards right, I thought, I could lose the lot! Secondly, and this was the most serious aspect of the case as far as I was concerned, if I gave him any money I would be laying myself open to the crime of bribing or corrupting an official, which could land me in jail.
"I'm sorry," I said, "but I can't give you any money until I know the reason why."
He stood up. "I get my boss," he said, as he pushed past me out of the room.
His boss was a younger, officious-looking sort of guy. He sat at the table and started turning the pages of the passport, just as the other had done.
"Yes," he said, nodding his head, as if it was clear as daylight. "The stamps in your passport..."
Now I knew that the only thing that could be wrong with the stamps would be an Israeli stamp, which I definitely did not have! "You give money and you can go."
This was getting too ridiculous for words, but although twenty or fifty dollars may have gotten me out of there, I couldn't rid my mind of the possibility that they could have me arrested if I tried it, and then they would be free to skin me for every cent I had on me.
"I'm sorry," I repeated, but I can't give any money unless I know what it is for, otherwise I might be committing a crime."
The boss was getting impatient. "You give money. Where you stay in Surabaya? Is someone meeting you?"
"Yes, the French ambassador"
That got their attention.
"A staff member of the French consulate is wating for me in the airport, and then we are going meet the ambassador. She is waiting right outside." I hoped they wouldn't ask for an introduction, as I had no idea whether Ririn was actually at the airport.
"French..." said the fat guy. "Ambassador..." said his boss.
Now I felt a little more confident.
"Look", I said, "I'll tell you what. If you want money, come with me to the front of the airport, and I'll give it to you. I just cannot do it here..."
The two exchanged glances, then the fat one came over to me and handed me my passport.
"Ah, my good friend, welcome to Indonesia." And he embraced me!
And as I smilingly embraced him back, I was thinking, "You bastard, just you wait!"

I collected my luggage and could not wait to get out of there. Ririn was in fact waiting for me.

Exchange Rate

We're back in Monopoly-money land. The exchange rates for the rupiah against the Euro were:

1 Euro = 8,834.87 Indonesian Rupiah
1 Indonesian Rupiah = 0.0001132 Euro
1,000 Indonesian Rupiah = 0.1132 Euro
10,000 Indonesian Rupiah = 01.132 Euro

Surabaya

The largest port in Indonesia, Surabaya is second only to Jakarta in economic importance. It is a bustling, traffic-choked city of 2.3 m people.

It is an uncomfortable city to get around on foot. You take your life in your hands every time you try to cross the extra-wide roads, where the traffic never stops. The footpaths are broken in many places, so if you're not careful you'll end up in a storm drain. The traffic fumes mix with cooking from the ubiquitous roadside stalls selling soto ayam (chicken soup) and other odours emanating from under the footpath or from uncollected rubbish. Except for the shopping malls (totally out of character here, but a welcome respite from the non-stop traffic outside), this is no place for pedestrians.

I stayed in the Sahid hotel. Ririn had worked out a deal whereby I got a reduced rate of 200,000 rupiahs (which, due to the favourable exchange rate, worked out at only around 23 Euros).

That evening I tried out the radio—BBC World Service can be picked up around 9.78 MHz shortwave (waveband 4 on my Sony world receiver) until about 23:00.