The Golden Ticket – Situbondo Police Station

Day 3: The Golden Ticket – Situbondo Police Station

We walked to the police station, took a deep breath and walked inside. We had no idea what we were hoping to achieve. I guess we were just bored of being cooked in the sun. “Do you speak English?” I asked one of the officers. “No,” was the expressionless response. He guided us into another

The Prayer room, Situbondo, Indonesia

Day 2: The Defacement of Fatty’s House – Situbondo, Indonesia

As time whittled away, and the evening turned into night, Fatty arose from his chair. He went inside and brought out a thick black permanent marker pen. He placed it in Michael’s hand and solemnly gestured to the outside wall of his house next to his front door. “He wants me to write on his wall?!”

Day 2: Fatty and one for the shudder bank – Situbondo, Indonesia

Anyone that could speak some English told us that people do not hitchhike in Indonesia. Everyone uses the taxi busses because they are so cheap and plentiful. Eventually, though, someone did stop. I was on my way to the toilet when Mike called me back. In retrospect, I realise it would have saved me