Jakarta, Indonesia

 

Travelling to different places with different people always call for a fresh experience.

I always have a strong reason when I want to visit a particular city. This time around, I didn’t have an answer when people asked me why Jakarta, of all places?

Marking Jakarta as the 40th city travelled, I easily lost sight of the simple pleasures of the excitement of taking off with a premium airline, being pampered with 3-course meal on board, to checking in a luxurious 4-star hotel.

Thank you for rekindling the excitement in me because those are the little things that makes a trip exciting and fun.

I usually like to have the itinerary planned my way. This time around, I follow suit with a planned itinerary. In a city I thought I’d die stoning for four days, I enjoyed myself to the fullest. I learned to travel in a different way, the way I used to.

 Thank you for the whole new experience of travelling.

Having been to Indonesia and many other Asian countries, a strong stigma that many things are the same have been deeply rooted in me. In Indonesia on my own, I wouldn’t have tried otak-otak, mie ayam, sio may, satay, and fritters on the streets where they wash their plates by the ditch. Why travel 1,600 km away from home to try something you grew up to, that’s what I would have thought. This time around, I tried almost everything I saw and I have to confess that they taste different and my taste buds were dancing in high heaven.

Thank you for making me realise to not make too many assumptions. Thank you for bringing the adventurous side of me out to play again.

As I travel more, my experience and expectation grew exponentially. I complained about how terrible the flight landing was, I complained about the quality of the meal on board. I did not realise that I was comparing the airline to completely different standard of premium airlines. Was I expecting a pilot of 30 years experience to maneuver my 2-hour short haul flight? Was I expecting a 10-year old beautifully aged wine to be complimented with a Michelin-star meal on board?

Thank you for always keeping me grounded, reminding me of good values and to count my blessings.

Growing up in a Muslim country, it’s easy to presume that the same dress code (sleeveless and shorts) is acceptable by your friendly neighbouring country which upholds the same belief. I was proven wrong again and again when I lost count of the amount of people who stared at me from top to bottom. Despite having been to India, arguably one of the most undeveloped countries in the world, I’ve never felt so violated before. In fact, I’ve never felt so frightened walking on the streets and taking a bus sardined between the opposite genders.

Thank you for protecting and looking after me throughout the trip.

 

 

I guess after all these years and all these times, I’ve found myself a keeper :)