Frequent flyer miles
I’m feeling better, in case you were wondering. Probably not.
Anyway, tomorrow morning my arse is boarding yet another plane. Not going anywhere too fancy, just Solo and then on to Semarang by land. All part of the job. For someone who hadn’t gone any further than Bandung in the past four years or so, the last eight months have seen me travel as far as Sydney, which probably isn’t that big of a deal nowadays. So how about Jayapura? Bet that’s not on your tourism wishlist, but I’ve been there. So it’s great that I get to go places I’ve never imagined I’d go.
The ironic thing is that I don’t really like travelling.
Yes, I know. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. But yeah, I’ve never really been the travelling type. The destination’s are usually alright for me, but it’s the preparation and journey itself that’s a drag. Trying to prepare for every eventuality and finding out it’s too much, or bringing too little and stinking like an unwashed sauna for the duration of the trip. People say the actual travelling is more important than reaching the destination. Not I. I’d rather get as much sleep as possible. Green scenery is lovely, but it’s not so lovely that I want to stare at it for hours, though that does help me fall asleep. And in case I wasn’t clear about it the first time, I love sleep.
I should enjoy travelling, though, shouldn’t I? Get out of the usual surroundings, breathe in some air that’s got a lower carbon monoxide count than what I’m accustomed to. I don’t know, I guess I’m just a spoilt city kid, er, adult. Maybe it’s a result of my childhood, in which I’ve been uprooted quite a bit, and I’ve grown accustomed to having someplace permanent and settled. I’m a man of simple needs, so on that note, why shake things up if it’s not absolutely necessary? And it’s never been necessary.
Perhaps I haven’t enjoyed all this travelling I’ve been doing because it’s been something I have to do, not really what I want to do. The Singapore trip? Now that was fantastic, because that was all me. I get paid to travel on these assignments, but getting strung along by someone else’s schedule like some puppet ruins the experience. So far my most enjoyable working trips have been to Sydney and Kuala Lumpur. Maybe it’s not really surprising, as those cities would be more appealing to a spoilt city brat than, say, Jambi. It’s just nice to get away from the lunacy of being in Jakarta. I might even daresay it’s nice to get away from Indonesia, full stop.
But Jakarta, as wretched as it can often get, is still home. And I don’t have a good enough reason to leave home. Yet. Maybe some day I’ll do my small part in helping reduce Indonesia’s population. Since dying or not reproducing is further down on the list, I’ll have to settle for relocation and inflict myself on another nation.
