The humidity smacked my face. South Korea had been chilly, not the finger-numbing type of cold that New Englanders suffer from throughout the Winter, but chilly enough to make use of my jeans and a T-Shirt.
Indonesia, not so much.
I took out 500,000 Rupiahs (about $36.00). Hopped into a taxi. Closed my eyes.
Oh wait. In Indonesia, they drive on the left side of the road. I probably won’t die.
Scooter drivers flew, clocking speeds that would make my mother flinch. This is one country I would not be driving in.
After a harrowing hour-long driving through the chaotic streets, I finally arrived at my hostel, which cost a whopping $2.91 a night. As I walked in, I noticed geckos on the wall. Apparently this is a sign of good luck.
I remembered that from a trip to Miami three years ago.
I walked upstairs to my room. Tossed my stuff on the floor. Changed into a dress, because I had worn leggings and a sweatshirt on the plane, and that wouldn’t work in this humidity.
Roads in Indonesia, are narrow. This is why everyone drives a motor scooter. Food was on the itinerary. Luckily, less than four meters away, there was a small shop selling fried rice, costing about $1.00 for a large portion. I had that.
Upon ingesting my fried rice, I fell asleep in my cheap, clean and bright four bed dormitory.