Denpasar. Origin of the next terrorist attack jets?

I arrived in Sydney at 6am on Tuesday morning after a long drawn out flight from Indonesia. Bali’s Denpasar International airport, like much of Indonesia and South Asia in general, is a disorganised chaotic excuse for an airport. I’ve decided at the end of the trip to finish my travel blog with some ‘superlatives’ awards such as ‘best food’, ‘cleanest beach’ etc. It will take a lot to remove Denpasar airport from the top of the ‘worst airport’ category that’s for sure.

Upon arrival you are greated with a Starbucks, Mcdonalds and several other eateries at the front of the terminal building. As soon as you enter the building you have to go through security – so you can forget checking in and then finding somewhere to relax before the flight. I passed my bags through the x-ray machine, walked through the metal detector and relised no-one was actually watching the screens – or me passing through the beeping doorway (left belt on). I picked up my bags and walked to the back of the huge queue for the check-in windows for our 300 seater plane to Sydney. After a few minutes I noticed that everyone had a ‘security passed’ sticker on their bags, so I left the queue and trundled back to the security desks. By now there was a guy at the x-ray machine, so I asked him for a sticker. He just slapped one on. I wouldn’t mind placing a bet that the next plane flown into a large building by a terrorist organisation originates in Indonesia.

I re-joined the queue for check-in where I stood for the next hour. When I was two or three from the desk, an airport official came up to me with a piece of cotton. She wipes it over the straps of my backpack and places it in a pot with a few others. Then she sticks a second label on saying ‘security cleared’. How she could possibly detect explosives/drugs or whatever from that pathetic swab, and how she will even know its my bag if explosives/drugs or whatever are detected is anyone’s guess.

Finally, I reached the desk where the check-in lady asked me for my ticket. When I explained to her I was on a ticketless round-the-world flight and had only a reference number, she looked at me like I’d just told her i’d raped her 6 year old daughter. She angrily tapped at her computer before asking me for another form of ID (other than my passport). I offered her my UK driving licence, but this wasn’t good enough. I offered her a credit card, which she studied closely, before once more tapping loudly on the keyboard. Terrorists take note – bombs allowed, e-tickets not.

While this was going on, A guy siddled up by behind me with 3 children looking anxiously at the check-in woman. I moved aside while he explained that the boy he was with had been given the wrong boarding pass and had been refused from passport control. He explained the boy wasn’t his child, and that his mum had already gone through passport control and wasn’t allowed back out. The check-in lady asked repeatedly for the boy’s Mum’s passport, which the fella obviously didn’t have. After about the 5th repetiton, the check-in lady said she couldn’t re-issue the pass without the mum, before turning to flag a supervisor. The Aussie fella and I looked at each other with a weary ‘UNBELIEVABLE’ look. I made a point of stating loudly they were totally inept, but I don’t think she understood. She re-issued the boarding pass to the boy then carried on faffing around with my 3 forms of ID.

With my bag checked I made my way up the stairs to the ‘rape’ area. In the ‘rape’ area, tourists are charged a 150,000 Rupiah airport service charge to get out of the country (~£10). This is on top of the $25 entry fee to the country rape charge i’d already paid. I didn’t have any Rupiah left, and the guy didn’t take Sterling or US Dollars, so I had to go back down the escalators of the ‘rape’ area to the exchange booths which offer the most scandelous rates to change money. Once I’d paid my exit fee, I arrived at Passport control where other toursist were busy being raped some more – 200,000 Rupiah (~£14) for every day overstayed on your visa (don’t do it!) Finally, I reached the gate of my aircraft. Hungry, tired and frustrated. There were a few newsagents selling crisps for 25,000 Rupiah (~£2) and ~100 seats in the waiting area (for a jumbo jet of passengers). My final piece of disappointment was the big sign saying ‘free internet’. Woohoo I thought, until I used it to find the ‘page cannot be displayed’ message on the screen.

India and Indonesia have the same first 4 letters of their names, but this is not the only similarity. They are both full of corrupt, money grabbing, hastling, inept f$%kers! Hello Sydney, and Hello Civilisation. Pfffew!