Kuta Beach, Bali, IndonesiaElenka and I commenced our journey to Indonesia with a 6:00 a.
m. flight from Toronto to JFK in New York. There would be a four hour lay-over but that was okay, we have special lounge passes which enable us to feel as though we’re the wheat that’s been sorted from the chaff. It was just after walking into the lounge though that we discovered a multicultureless (a word of my own creation) oddity. All of the people who worked there were Korean. I started scratching my head. We were flying with Korean Air and the gate was right beside the lounge. After stuffing as much food as we could into ourselves, but passing on the early morning booze, we wandered out and into the waiting area. Another jaw-dropper, not a single non-Korean worker. Right here in the Big Apple. How could this be? Maybe after the Korean Air plane leaves, Lufthansa or JAL will pull into the vacant gate. And if so, will all of the employees, including the ones in the lounge be German or Japanese?
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Flying north over the Arctic Circle it’s about 14 hours to Seoul. Tacked onto the four hour lay-over at JFK there was a half-hour delay.
The delay could be troublesome. A smiling flight attendant approached us mid-way through the flight and explained that we would need to hurry to the next departure gate when we landed in Seoul in order to make our connection. We asked if we could be moved to seats closer to the front, explaining that passengers, all of them, futz with their overhead luggage causing great delay. Another big smile. It was accompanied by a “No, I am sorry,” response. The attendant was nothing more than a cover-your-arse customer service woman. She was pretty sure we’d not make the two or so kilometre hike to the gate on time. But she’d done her part, explaining that we must hurry.
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Once off the plane in Seoul, Elenka ran like an impala, I on her tail, like a starving lion. We first had to go through a carry-on search station to ensure we weren’t taking any explosives or firearms from one airplane to the next in this hermetically sealed airport bubble-complex. Then it was the real run: through the duty free shops, down the halls, corridors and lobbies that were filled with errant Googlers.
With minutes to spare we climbed aboard an old B-747 just as it was about to begin backing out from its gate.
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We’d have just seven more hours of sitting in another one of these metal tubes before reaching Bali. Should we try and sleep a little? Nah, what’s 35 or is it 40 hours without any shut-eye? When we were young we could do this standing on our heads. By the time the plane lifted off the tarmac, I’m certain we were both fast asleep.
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The Sudsy Affair:
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We collapsed into our hotel room bed just off Kuta Beach at two in the morning and awoke feeling rejuvenated just four hours later. By lunchtime jet-lag had set in so we decided to have a nap. Five hours later I asked Elenka if she thought we should get up and go for a bite of dinner. She thought it might be better if we waited until the next morning — it would only be another 14 or so hours. I agreed, but my throat was bone-dry, I needed a drink of water. I picked up a water bottle, unscrewed the cap and started pouring it down my throat.
Within what may have been a millisecond I was choking and puking. For all I knew I might have been hit by a car — no sense at all of what was happening. Turned out I’d grabbed the wrong bottle and had taken a pull on the unscented, liquid Tide laundry detergent Elenka had brought with her from home. Within minutes, head spinning, I was on the back of a motorcycle speeding for the medical clinic. Once there, all the other patients were pushed aside so that I, the emergency, could be seen (this kind of service isn’t available in our home and native land). Tests were taken and injections were given. Then they sat me on a sofa, to be observed for two hours. When I left, pills were given to me.
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My Elenka was with me the entire time. When we got back to the hotel she asked with a tear in her eye if I felt alright. I told her that I couldn’t smell anything, but felt really clean inside. We both giggled a little, then went back to bed.
Mary Patterson
2020-01-21
Jim says that drink should tide you over until the next drink. Poor Iak.
Peter
2020-01-21
I want to laugh....am I a bad person?
Leta
2020-01-21
OMG Jack! What a start to your trip, hopefully much better going forward, take care & enjoy!
Cate
2020-01-21
Very nice picture of both Ellen and you ........hopefully you don't take too long to recover and start enjoying your new adventure!!
Irene
2020-01-21
OMG! That's scary, but so funny. Jack, I can relate to your dilemma. You inflict humour into a tense situation. I always enjoy reading about your travels. I look forward to what comes next. On a more serious note... I have never had an internal clean up of that nature.
Val
2020-01-21
I particularly enjoyed the "impala/starving Lion" description. Hope that the rest of the trip will be relaxing and uneventful. XO
Majka
2020-01-21
I might be a bad person... cause I am laughing.
StephZ
2020-01-22
Yikes. Tell Elenka to buy Tide Pods next time. Glad you survived.
Katharine Sterry
2020-01-23
OMG! That's hilarious. I can't wait to hear what other trouble you get yourself into on this trip.
Margo
2020-01-25
Oh dear, should I mention that all the comments were so funny . Hmmm I hope you feel better. I’m sure you’ll be sipping in life and other things, going forward. Cough cough