I finished my exams together with my obligatory map of a dive site. Previous DMT's had created some very artistic affairs...
An Artistic Masterpiece.
Seeing as I was no artist and had no GCSE's in Art I drew upon my learnings as a small child and promptly began to stick various household items to a piece of paper which were representative of features on the dive site. It took me days to complete my masterpiece. Some were impressed, some laughed and said it was stupid. The facts speak for themselves though. Divers have successfully been able to navigate themselves around the beach having been briefed about where to see the interesting fish in the Staghorn coral, represented by crushed noodles and glue. I rest my case.
All the greats signed their works of art.
The other DMT's were also out of the water for a bit. Jesse had contracted gangrene on his foot. Roel was suffering from Heat Exhaustion from being too big and too Dutch leaving Ira the resident doctor to care for us as only a Russian doctor can, rather unsympathetically. Luckily we had been joined by a couple of Irish nurses, Sally and Sarah, who became very excited given the opportunity to squeeze the puss from Jesse's foot and pick my scabs. They were also rather happy to inform me that because I had hiccups I may have severe internal bleeding and could keel over at any moment. I didn't thankfully. Conversations in the evening were typically filled with talk about all manner of disgusting things that the human body can do.
'You mean people can actually vomit poo?'
A couple of days later I was due to fly out to Malaysia to get a new visa. The Irish nurses had taken to stalking me and reminding me of my mortality so they came too.
At the airport we checked into the VIP lounge whilst we waited for our flight. Total cost, about £2.50 for an 'all you can eat and drink' buffet spread consisting of mainly strange spicy nut mixes which I interpreted as a challenge rather than an offer.
Posh VIP nuts.
Once satiated we made our way to the departure lounge. I bored the girls with nerdy plane facts. We then were herded onto a bus which we had to wait for 10 minutes to fill before it could make the 200m drive across the completely abandoned apron to our sole aircraft at the airport.
Plane Porn.
We stood around next to the plane in the heat for another couple of minutes whilst we waited to board. I inspected the aircraft with a keen eye for detail and observed that the port tyres looked a bit flat. An official looking man noticed us inspecting them so sidled over and gave them a quick kick whilst trying to look inconspicuous.
Once on board and comfortably in our seats, Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing' played soothingly over the loudspeakers whilst we accelerated down the runway. There's nothing quite like budget air travel in South East Asia.
Those with a University 1st Class Honours Masters Degree in Aeronautical Engineering, like myself, will notice that this is a propeller. Very exciting stuff.
We did manage to land safely and uneventfully on Penang in Malaysia. Having become very tired of eating rice and noodles for the past few weeks we immediately paid a visit to McDonalds, where I can happily report that you can now get a Double Big Mac with twice the meat. The American Dream of Obesity is now closer than you thought.
Yay! Real Food!
Superdupersize me!
Penang involved getting back to grips with what it's like to live in a civilized place. It mainly involved drinking Guiness and eating steak. I successfully managed to get a 60 day visa for Indonesia and attempted to return to the island together with copious amounts of shopping including HP sauce, Heinz Baked Beans, Colmans English Mustard, Nuttella and Peanut butter. Sadly Malaysian customs weren't so keen for me to have any nice food in Indonesia and thus confiscated it all, apart for some reason for my black pepper.
I hope they choked on it.
Back in Banda Aceh customs there kicked up a fuss when they noticed I had two bottles of booze. Determined not to have yet more luxuries stolen from me for the second time in a day I glanced around and noticed another tourist behind me in line. 'One is for my friend' I said pointing at the random guy. They reluctantly let me through after checking him for contraband. He looked a bit confused as I grinned at him then followed him off into the crowd to complete the illusion.
One day after my return I fell ill again. This time the illness was more severe so I checked myself into a room with a fan for 3 days whilst I alternatively sweated, shivered and twitched away my fever which reached a rocketing 39.7 degrees Celcius according to the thermometer shoved into my armpit. Speculation was made as to whether it was Dengue, Malaria or just Flu. It was probably all of them.
Whilst hallucinating under the influence of various drugs I dreamt of food. Good food. Yorkshire pudding. Bacon. Sausages. Steak. Sausage Rolls. Pies. Salads. Pasta. Pizza. Food is a continuous topic of conversation amongst travelling folk. Especially here where the food is ok but very very boring after an extended amount of time. Fried or boiled rice and chicken or tomato pasta or chips and chicken. I have now lost the will to eat and every mealtime is a struggle to decide what to have. I have lost weight for the first time this trip. Hence we have made plans to leave. Saturday will be the day we finally attempt to cross Indonesia, heading as quickly as possible across Sumatra and Javas manic roads to Bali where there is rumoured to be decent food.
To celebrate our decision Mama Dog and Henry decided to kill a rather cute kitten in a tug of war match. The kitten lost. It was all rather horrifying. I've stopped talking to them.
It's time to hit the road again. I can't wait.
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