Indonesia

After working so hard for so long, the boss gave me Friday off. Top bloke, the boss. Understanding, appreciative, witty. Great to work for. Sure, he keeps trying to touch me and making lewd, sexually suggestive comments, but who could blame him, what, with my chiselled Roman-Greco physique?

Anyhow, after giving myself the day off (get it now?) I decided to pop over to Indonesia. Two main Indonesian islands are apparently visited from Singapore: Pulaus Bintan and Batam. I understand Pulau Bintan is more for lazing around on the beach and playing golf. Batam is meant to have more stuff to do. This is a dubious claim.

Should you go to Pulau Batam, at all costs avoid the Penguin Ferry Services one-day tour. It was after two extremely brief stops at places that can only aspire to the term "tourist trap" (a really crap Chinese temple and a go-carting place) and several stops at stores selling local produce that I realised what was going on. You know those coaches that go to all the discount stores in town, loaded with women in tracksuits carrying a million shopping bags? I was on one of them. And these shops were nothing special. A Ralph Loren store, a dodgy department store, a street store selling Indonesian groceries, and a souvenir shop with prices in Singapore dollars. With the exception of the souvenir shop these places wouldn't even dream of aspiring to Tourist Trap status.

Batam is seriously third world and if you throw yourself in you'll probabaly find that it rocks. But from a coach full of dried fish and local handicrafts, all it does it make you appreciate, a week after you've done everything in Singapore, that Singapore is a great place.

On my daytrip to Indonesia I was befriended by a bunch of Philipinas. Over lunch they were talking about me in front of me, but in Philipino. I may not speak Philipino, but it seems some words don't translate. One of them, whose name I can't remember (call her Rosa for the sake of the story), was clearly keen on me and saying stuff like "yabba yabba yabba Nick yabba yabba Standard Chartered yabba yabba yabba yabba unlimited expense account yabba yabba yabba ha ha ha." No jokes.

Naturally, I failed to stick around after the tour.

Next night I'm on my way home after gorging myself at dinner when I bump into Rosa and her friend from the day before. So I get talking with her friend, who wasn't at all scary to look at, and we all trooped off to a club for a drink and dance.

So the friend (whose name I couldn't remember either) makes herself scarce while Rosa is trying her damnedest. I remember thinking: you'll regret it. DON'T. I only stayed in the bar as long as I did because I was checking out some sensational Chinese girls dancing in front of my seat. Finally the pressure got too much, I muttered an excuse, and I ran. I've never actively run from a girl before, but I seriously sprinted home. Urghhh.