Singapore to Jakarta by boat

Batam is an Indonesian island just 45 minutes from Singapore.  Ferries from 4 or 5 different companies run every hour each to 2 or 3 different ports on Batam, and the ticket price is cheap.

Batam Hotel Harris Waterfront was nice.  All the help are very friendly, maybe it helps that we can speak a little Bahasa Indonesia; like Pat's experience with French in France, it helps.  It really was nice, but you know, we've all stayed at hotels, and the room was big and all, but it was just a hotel.  Nice food, balcony overlooking a very large hourglass pool, restaurant - poolside if you like, etcera.  But the boat is something else. 

First our taxi driver showed up at the hotel an hour earlier than we had agreed upon the previous afternoon.  Very nice guy, said his name was Abdi, but I ran across it in the dictionary - Servant.  Maybe not, huh?  Anyway we were headed to a restaurant associated with the hotel but external, hoping for something a little different, although the hotel food was fine southeast Asian.  I can't tell you what the Western food was like.  But the driver showed up and suggested we eat at some place along the way to the boat.

Nice, very very local, nice in the respect that we are getting the real McCoy local stuff now.  Open air, sat 20 or 30, with lots of motor bikes parked out front.  This is restaurant food mind you, not street food.  We're not venturing that far.  Too risky.  We had a local chicken soup, rice, tempe crackers, and the driver had maybe beef soup, my treat.  And it was really good; not your mother's chicken soup.

So we finish the soup, the driver pays the parking-lot attendant.  This is really weird because we're parked on a dirt lot in front of the restaurant.  Even the motor bikes pay.  As we leave, headed for the boat, we drive around the block to find posh gated homes.  Wow, a bit unexpected.  OK finally at the dock. 

Half a dozen self made porters latch onto the car to be the first to grab our bags, before the car stops.  The driver gets out and helps me tell them we don't need any porters.  We've got one bag each, and the porters reach into the trunk and shoulder the bags anyway.  I insist that "tidak usah", not necessary, and don't want, and I will do it myself.  One guy explains that we're the wealthy ones who should pay for this service and not reject the poor guy.  He needs the money.  Maybe we should have paid the porter.  Now I feel a bit guilty. 

Dirt road, a bit of string and some orange cones, it's still not clear where the hell you go to get on the boat.  I'm looking the name of the company PT. PELNI and the name of the boat KM. Kelud.  Just keep asking KM Kelud ke Jakarta?  PT PELNI? and they'll point us in the right direction, across an open lot a half block from the pier, to a side door of a nondescript warehouse; no signs anywhere that I can see.  Inside we show our tickets and another guy is asking for money for a reason I'm not quite sure of, so I refuse to pay him.  His tone of voice leads you to believe it's somesort of tax.  Sure enough, another self made porter.  Customs might have looked at us while our bags went though a scanner, but they were lounging too comfortably to really bother.  No people scanners here, not even the wand.

Finally out on the pier we stop to breath and take a few pix.  Those situations are so difficult with these porters in your face, but we made it.  Probably would have been a lot easier for 10 or 20 thousand Rup's (1 or 2 bucks) to let them do it, especially since carrying or dragging these two bags side by side up three flights through narrow doorways was a bit much.

Now we're on board, all snug in our cabin.  Take a few pix, then lets explore the boat.  By the way, just as in English a ship is not a boat, likewise in Bahasa a kapal is not a perahu.  The upper deck at the stern is where the fun people hang out smoking and drinking, no alcohol allowed, and we sit and chat with the locals. 

One guy is a Indonesian policy wonk and military specialist, and another knows a bit of English from many years ago, like me, but much better.  Killed a couple of hours with those guys, and a young fella explained how he was making t-shirts with iron-ons as a side job, from his regular job as driver.  He snatches artwork off the Internet and prints the iron ons; sells the shirts for about a 50% profit.  He's wearing two, one on top of the other.  It's about 92 in the shade.

The view is wonderful, heading east as we leave the port, sliding past the Singapore skyline to our north, with it's signature giant curved boat hotel atop three 50 or 60 story buildings, sort of like stilts, but these are hotels too.

First class dining was fine.  This whole experience is a few notches up from a floating Super 8 motel with dining, snack food store, and 360 degrees of Java Sea islands. 

It's hard to believe that we're really doing this.  About 7 PM and we're beginning to roll a bit while announcements come over the horn.  I recognise just a word here and there.  I think they were letting us know where the mosque is and where others can pray as appropriate. 

Got some nice pix, and a movie during the Mullah's thing.  It was actually quite moving hearing the call to Allah, cruising along, while the sun is setting over Malaysia.  Wow, this is really something.  Beats the hell out of Universal Studios.

I forgot to mention going to buy our Kelud tickets at the PELNI office.  A ramshackle house; is this really it?   Good timing just a few couples in front of us.  Our driver was something of a help, his English quite good.  We chatted with the locals.   Where are you from, you are going to Jakarta, do you like Indonesia?  We are in the thick of it, as usual the guy at the ticket window was on lunch break, so All Stop.  Didn't take long though, and what the hell, we're in a hurry?  We've got all day, our room is already booked and we're not sailing till tomorrow, so loosen up.  Had a little trouble with the money, my numbers are a bit rusty.