5-16: Today I am off to Kundur. Check out was a snap. They even gave me a snack box to eat on the ferry. The young lady assistant manager helped me call ahead the hotel I wanted to stay in on Kundur so they would save a room for me. Cannot recommend Rainbow Hotel enough!
None of the regular hotel drivers were available, so the young female assistant manager drove me to the ferry terminal. We had a long chat on the way as she took the scenic route and made one stop on the way. We had exchanged greetings during my stay. Her English was excellent, she was mid twenties young, very attractive, intelligent, funny, wonderful sense of humor, extremely desirable, and single! Turned out her Dad was the owner, she graduated from college, and now worked for Dad in the family business, about 14 hours a day 7 days a week, for a pittance of a salary. She was always at the desk when I had breakfast around 7 or 8am, and always at the desk when I went to my room to retire for the night, around 10pm. And she was the main reason the walk of shame at the Rainbow was so intense. I wanted her to think I was a "good guy", yet there I was, bringing back these lowlife gals to my room for the night! During the ride to the ferry we talked a lot about her. And a little about me. And about prostitution. She was raised Christian, in a Muslim society. Educated in Singapore. Somehow she was able to accept me and my night time companions, although she morally strongly objected to the whole situation. During this chat, she was thoughtful, sincere, but also cheerful and funny. A very remarkable gal, and one I would absolutely pursue, if I were 30 years younger.
She helped me buy my ferry ticket, and walked me to the dock, then waved goodbye and returned to her life. Good thing too, five more minutes and I probably would have asked her to marry me.
It was difficult to figure out which ferry to board. No signs, a couple of different areas to board ferries. But somehow I got on the correct boat.
It was old, really old, world war two vintage, painted a combination of battleship grey and rust. The seats were not numbered sequentially, not that it mattered, it was free seating. The starboard side windows were white washed, perhaps to keep the sun out? No leg room, my knees bumped the seat in front of me, very uncomfortable. Air con did not work, it was easily 100 degrees in the cabin, for the 3 hour ride with a couple of very quick stops. The engines were very loud, but sounded and felt very strong and reliable. The cabin reeked of diesel fumes. I bought a bottle of water from the boat vendor for 3,000, but the seal was broken and I did not drink it. If the ferry from Batam to Bintan was a death trap, then this boat was a sure coffin. If I had believed in god I would have prayed. Instead I just hoped, and wiped the sweat from my face every few minutes for the 3 hour ride.
We arrived safely. Getting further from Batam, facilities got more and more primitive. Boarding and exiting the ferry was difficult for this fat old man. The boat bobbed up and down and back and forth, the plain wooden gang plank with no railings moved around, and the dock was on floats and also bobbed up and down and moved back and forth. Imagine trying to negotiate all those moving objects with legs that were cramped for 3 hours and trying to hold on to two small bags.
On the dock were the typical ojek drivers and touts, but here all the ojek guys had little beanie helmets! Kind of funny. Alas, I saw absolutely no taxis, and I refuse to ride ojeks. This is one of the parts of traveling to unknown areas that scares me the most, selecting transportation. Committing myself to getting in a car with a total stranger, who could just as easily take me out to the boonies and rob and kill me as take me where I want to go. I asked one ojek guy for a taxi, and at the same time an old man, perhaps 50, came walking towards me and said he had a taxi, in surprisingly good English.
I walked with him to his car, which was parked a full block or so from the terminal. He seemed like a good guy, decent clothes, mild mannered, had a clean Toyota, so I went with him. From my research, I knew where I wanted to go, Hotel Taman Gembira, at KM7. The driver knew it well. In fact, anticipated that I wanted to go there. I was barely able to get out "Hotel Ta….." and he said, "oh, Taman Gembira!", we go. He had a written price sheet, which was no doubt double a negotiated fare. But it was only about 20,000, less than $3. I'm the type that tries to be budget minded, but have found that it's better to pay an extra dollar or two here and there, and have things go smoothly, than vice versa.
Kundur is far less built up than Batam or Bintan. Very rural feel. Within a few minutes we were away from the terminal area and in the country side with few buildings. A few more minutes and we arrived at Hotel Taman Gembira.
Arriving at the hotel is sort of surreal, a huge pretty resort rising up out of nothingness. There are two parts to the hotel, an older part that is made of well over 100 chalet rooms, single story American motel style. These rooms can be had for $5 to $6 a night, may or may not have air con, small TV, private bath, musty smell. A beautiful large garden is in front of this area. The second part is next to the chalets, a 3 story, very modern, baby blue hotel. The rooms are larger, much nicer, with frig, large TV, good air con, etc., for $12. Double the price of the chalet, but a far nicer room for less than you can find in Pattaya or Phnom Pehn or AC.
After viewing the musty chalet rooms with peeling paint, I opted for the more expensive hotel. My driver stayed with me during this selection process, helping me with my bags. I got a room on the 3rd floor on the back side of the hotel. There was a large covered patio for all the rooms to share, right outside my door. I thought it might get noisy, but in fact, nobody used the patio.
The hotel is set back from the road about 100 yards, so noise is no problem. But there are so few cars traveling the road that noise is probably not much of a problem anyway. There was a nice pool, tennis courts, nice garden, more a resort like Rainbow Hotel, not just a hotel. A small not so good restaurant in the lobby served free breakfast, and in the evenings an outdoor seafood pujasera set up right in front of the hotel and is where everybody ate dinner, lacking any other choices! Across the street were 5 of 6 businesses, sundries, booze, money changer, small restaurant, just enough to support the hotel's customers, employees, and few local residents.
My driver was still hanging around after I checked in. He knew why I was there, and very willing to help me. After shower and change of clothes, he took me to the KM7 brothel village, generally called Batu Tujuh I think. We retraced our steps back down the main road about half a click, turned right onto a rough dirt road and five minutes later we were at the gate to the village. Total maybe ¾ of a mile, an easy walk from the hotel.
The village has a real entrance, with archway, and guys collecting the entrance fee of 3,000. Yea, you got it, customers pay an entrance fee just to get into the village and take a look around. They guys collecting the fees have no uniforms. There are about ten of them just lounging around. It's impossible to tell who is the toll taker, who are the enforcers, and who is just hanging around. It's just 3,000, or less than US fifty cents, and seems to be the regular drill, so why debate it?
The driver did not have to pay the fee. He drove about half way down the road, approximately the middle of the village and told me to get out.
This village is one straight, level, dirt road, maybe 200 meters long, 10 meters wide, with about 30 houses on each side. Most of the houses had some sort of porch, and 5 to 20 girls. I think there were some very rough short time rooms, but not frequently used. Most houses had at least a few girls sitting on the porch. Some had as many as 15 girls on the porch.
I started to walk around. The girls were mostly pretty rough, very few young attractive slim types. At the far end of the road a young Singapore man started up a conversation with me, in fair English. I thought he was the papa of the house, but turned out he was just a regular customer and liked one of the girls in that house. He was just hanging around for the afternoon. He was a little too anxious to want to help me and show me around, but seemed harmless. He turned out to be very informative.
I noted to my new friend that there were very few attractive gals. He explained the system to me. Most of the houses "open" around 9am, and that is when most of the customers come to select their girl for the following 24 hours. Price for the girl is usually 170,000 for a regular girl, but new fresh girls, and younger cute girls can command up to 500,000. In all cases there is a flat fee of 30,000 to exit the village if you have a girl with you. Some called it a police fee, I have no idea what it was, but it was definitely collected. The guys took the girls at the time of booking, unlike Batam where the customers often book in the afternoon and request the girl to show up at the hotel in the evening. Another difference is you give the entire booking fee to the girl the next morning. I guess it's her responsibility to take it back to the mama.
So what do the guys do after booking and taking their girl back to the hotel at 9am? Fuck, sleep, fuck, eat, fuck, drink, fuck, sleep, fuck, eat, fuck, drink, fuck………you get the idea. I guess they watch a little TV now and then too.
My friend showed me the houses he thought had the best selections, but told me to make sure I got there early in the morning. We went back to the house where his GF worked. She was far and away the cutest and sweetest looking gal in the house. A large number of girls were still not booked for the night. One was cute and slim with provocative spicy breasts showing through her tight top. She also looked very hardened, street wary and had the same small round belly with accompanying belches as my first gal in Bintan. Judging by her gold, cell phone, make up, nice clothes, she was pretty popular. I offered to book her. She laughed and despite no English skills at all had no trouble communicating there was no way she would go with bule! Yet she was intensely interested in me, touching my skin, my hair, feeling my dick, touching my beard, etc. Such contact was usually followed with a derisive laugh. She was entertaining and everybody enjoyed our little show.
One girl, B, spoke really good English, and we chatted a bit. She was older at 28, had a baby. She was tall with a pretty face, and a fuller body type that you would expect from a near thirty mother. She was very cheerful as we chatted but I got a sense of a deep brooding mood simmering underneath. The subject of booking came up and she said she was already booked for the night. She suggested her friend, A, who was also 28, also a mother, also tall, and also the owner of a fuller body type, maybe 5'5" and a good 135 pounds. She seemed sweet and sincere, but most important she was willing to go with bule.
Straight back to my room, via my driver who had waited the entire time, and insisted on only receiving the original fare he had quoted me at the terminal. No extra for shuffling me around during room inspections and check in, and no extra for waiting around in the village for a couple of hours. I gave him the agreed upon fee plus a tip, he gave me his card and I said I would call him when I needed a driver again.
I considered myself very lucky to have found two good men in one day, the taxi driver and the Singapore man who showed me around the village.
Back in the room, I got a half way decent bj from my gal, followed by a very lame fuck and ended with an oral finish with some digital anal play. That was pretty good and made up for the poor coitus. Let's see, how does that go? Fuck, drink, eat, sleep. Ok, off we went to the little shops across the road from the hotel to buy snacks and beer. I drank 4 beers in my room. She poured them and ate snacks.
Photo: Friend A 22
She spoke no English, and was very worried about not being able to communicate with me. Did not bother me at all, but she was clearly concerned and stressing about it. I showed her my electronic translator, and she loved it. She was educated enough to be able to use it, and old enough to have the patience to not get frustrated at constructing her thoughts one word at a time. We exchanged some basic data over the drinks and snacks, then went to the outdoor seafood pujasera in front of the hotel for dinner. I had one more beer, warm, as is typical of Indo pujaseras. You can get ice cubes if you want, but I hate ice in beer, and I avoid ice for health reasons anyway. My one warm beer was 18,000! Very expensive! Dinner was 60,000 for 3 dishes, shrimp, fish, and chicken, 2 bowls of rice, and one juice drink for her. Again very expensive by Indo standards. The portions were the normal small size as most Indo places, but taste was very good. So the rooms are cheap, but the only place to eat dinner is expensive.
After dinner we sat in the large patio outside my room. She played with my translator and I just sat, enjoying the luscious cool night air, the glow from the beer, the fullness in my belly and the utter emptiness of my balls. Sometimes life can be really good!
My gal saw B and motioned for her to sit with us. B got permission from her customer who went into his room, and she joined us. B loved my electronic translator and played with it constantly. She shelled some peanuts for me and lined them up on the table still in the shell, like oysters. She was clearly more comfortable and experienced at her work, "servicing men", than A.
Photos: Friends A/B 23 24
Soon thereafter the slim hot girl from the same house showed up, decked out in all her jewelried glory with cell phone sticking out the hip pocket of her skin-tight jeans. We all chatted for a bit then A and I went to bed. I was sleepy drunk, and she was most likely glad that I only wanted to sleep. No more sex that night.
The next morning A tried to fulfill her obligations with another session. She performed more bj with anal play, easy to get hard, hard to cum. But with due effort on the part of both parties, the desired result was finally achieved.
5-17-04: Breakfast was the same lousy shit I'd had every morning the past week, fried noodles and fried rice, cold and tasteless. One guy ordered eggs, he got one boiled egg and his bill was 10,000! A sat with me for a few minutes, but split while I was still eating. I paid her the agreed upon price of 170,000, plus a tip of 30,000 for 200,000 even. I thought it was a fairly generous tip for a mediocre performance. But she asked for more, claiming the ojek back to her house was 40,000! My Singapore pal told me it was 10,000 for the gals to take the ojek back, even that was a total rip off, it's less than a mile and takes about 3 minutes on a ojek! There was a small group of ojeks that hung out in front of the hotel. Their entire business seemed to be running the girls back to the village in the morning. I never saw them with customers any other time of the day. My gal soon realized I knew the score, smiled and left with no hard feelings.
The rooms were nice, but the whole atmosphere in the lobby of the hotel sucked. The staff was mostly male, all sour looking, never a smile or a friendly greeting. They wore no uniforms. Plastic coverings were on all the lobby furniture. I took a cup of tea over to the couch to sit and read after breakfast and a bell boy admonished me to move back to the dining area with the tea! Complete 180 from the wonderful Rainbow Hotel on Bintan.
Around 9:15am I wondered over to the village on foot. It was already very hot, but not unbearable, and it was an easy walk to the village. I was shocked at how busy the dirt road to the village was! There was a constant flow of ojeks and mini vans going to and fro, and no other pedestrians.
I paid the entrance fee and walked around the entire village, up one side and back on the other. I did not see anything worth looking at twice. It was 9:30am and Singaporean and Malaysian guys were arriving in droves! Mini van after mini van stopped in the middle of the road to unload a group of 3 or 4 guys. I saw at least ten groups of men walking around from house to house looking for a booking.
All the houses were clearly open with a few girls on the porch, and usually several more inside in the parlor. I got the impression the younger and cuter gals tended to stay inside, not sure why.
I did my usual routine of passing out candy and taking digital photos and was mostly well received. Nearly all the girls enjoyed posing and excitedly viewed the pictures, despite the tiny view screen of my camera. I think I would have been a hero if I could have made prints to pass out.
Photos: Batu7 25 26 27 28 29
I finally found two gals at house #51 that I found to my liking. One was very slim, the other very short, but with round full breasts. Always a sucker for tits, I booked her. I did not have a car or minivan, and I was not gonna take a ojek. I asked her to walk back to hotel with me and she agreed. Quoted price was 180,000 for her, plus the usual 30,000 "police" fee.
I was not completely surprised by the cheers, jeers, hoots, whistles and shouts of BULE!!! as we walked down the dirt road of the village towards the gate. I did not like it, but as a stranger in a strange land, could ignore it. But I felt really bad for my gal. To her credit she held my hand confidently, ignored the abuse, kept her eyes straight ahead and walked steady and true. In those few moments I gained a lot of respect and admiration for her. And vowed to not put another girl through the same embarrassment. I would just pay the ojek for her, walk back alone and meet her at the hotel.
Back at my room my respect and admiration for her grew even more. She was very agreeable and willing. She tried hard to communicate, even though her English was nil. She was patient, even tempered and genuinely seemed not to mind being with the big Bule. She too loved my electronic dictionary and spent a lot of time playing with it. She showed me words and sometimes a string of words that she wanted to say to me.
We had sex around noon. Most of the girls so far had a wonderful soft touch with their hand, and this gal was no different. She tried a short bj, but clearly not into it. We fucked, her on bottom, she made a bit of a deal about not wanting to use condom, but I insisted and she relented. Her tits were big, but floppy and saggy from the baby, looked better in bra and clothes. She was pretty loose "down there" for such a small gal. She was so willing and cooperative and wanted to please, but just did not have the skill or experience to succeed. I tried to get her on top, but she was clueless. I never found an Indo girl who could do the "asian squat", a technique the K11 gals had perfected to an art form.
She did not shower before or after. In hindsight, she showered least of all the girls I met. She had that typical Indo smell about her, but did not stink or seem unclean.
We went to eat lunch at the small restaurant in the "business district" across from the hotel. It was a typical small Indo restaurant, 3 round wood tables and plastic chairs. I was happy to have a guide to help with ordering and paying and everything in between. We got a small piece of chicken in a coconut curry sauce, a fried potato croquette, rice, and a pack of smokes for her. The total bill was 20,000. I figure the Marlboro cigs cost 8-9,000, making the meal for two about 11,000, less than $1.50. That is more the kind of price I expect when eating in Indonesia. The food was tasty and the place did not seem too unsanitary. We went to the store for the necessities, beer, water, and snacks, and returned to my room.
She watched a bit of TV while I read my book, then we both took a long nap. At 4:30 she woke and went out to the patio wearing only my big T-shirt, which she had used for pajamas during our nap. An aquaintance or perhaps friend? Of hers sat with her and they stayed there chatting away til 6:30. I alternated between sitting with them, reading my book, and watching TV.
It seemed to be the norm for the gals to take an unofficial afternoon break from the continous 24 hour sexathon that most clients put them through. I saw at least a dozen gals wandering around the patio area alone, chatting amongst themselves, during the two hours my gal sat there.
At 6:30 I "told" her I wanted to drink beer and go to dinner. She poured for me while I polished off my daily supplement of malt and went to the pujasera for dinner. We ate squid, steamed fish, sautéed veggies and rice, no warm beer, 50,000. Still expensive for what we got but good quality.
Ran into the Singapore guy who had befriended me the previous afternoon, and we had a long chat sitting on the patio outside my room and enjoying the cool evening air. He gave me a lot of the information included in this report. Also told me a lot about himself. The short version is he loved his gal and wanted to marry her, but his family would not approve, and he would have to buy out both her and her younger sister who also worked the same house. Uncertain if they could go back with him to Singapore to live, etc. etc. His GF had that sweet innocent good girl look, and appeared to return his affection. However, I met the younger sister the following day and she was already a hardened prostitute totally into the money and I could not imagine how they would all get along.
We hit the sack at 10:30 and had sex again, but I could not finish. Switched to hj, and finally had to finish up with self service while she teased my anal area. I am surprised that most of the girls I've had this trip provide this service, is it a regular part of the service expected by the Singapore and Malay guys?
She wanted me to keep my hand on her tit while we slept. Did she think I liked it, or did she want me to keep it from flopping around as she wore no bra?
We both slept well. We woke around 6:30am. She asked if I wanted one more day booking. I said "jachap", the equivalent of butterfly in Indo. She understood. I gave her 210,000, plus a handful of small change amounting to nearly 10,000. She smiled, we kissed, and she left at 7am. Quite early, but fine with me. I wished I had met her two years and one baby ago.
5-18-04: I returned to bed and at 8am there was knock on the door. It was the #51 mami and another gal, looking for my gal who had left 90 minutes earlier. Uh-oh, she's a runner. She said she had been working 6 months. I had given her about 220,000. I was a little concerned. Had she been planning to run away all along? But what about her offer to stay another day? Was she too embarrassed to face the jeers and teasing she was sure to receive from her constituents after spending the night with the white bule monster? Had she been kidnapped and/or raped by a ojek driver since it was really early and perhaps nobody else around? The two ladies came into my room at my request, looked around including the bathroom, and left, satisfied she was not there.
Shit. I began to worry for myself! I was the last person to see her alive. I started to imagine the cops coming to "question" me in her disappearance. I could see the headlines "Girl disappears at hands of Bule". I was planning to leave the next day, and just hoped they would wait til I left before "investigating" her disappearance.
I left my room at 8:40am, planning to walk to the village and get there before 9, hoping to get first crack at the girls. To my great disappointment, the selection was worse than the day before. It was Sunday, perhaps all the better girls had been booked Friday and Saturday for the entire weekend?
I went to the house where my Singapore friend's gal worked. I saw her hardened less attractive younger sister, who wanted nothing to do with a bule. I saw the cute gal with "provocative" tits and was surprised she was not booked. She too wanted nothing to do with me and took great delight in verbally abusing me, rolling her R's with tremendous gusto. Of course I have no idea what she was saying, but everybody laughed every time she said something, and the tone and expression she used were the opposite of what I would expect if she were throwing compliments my way. The girl who went with me the night before last told me she only goes with young guys.
I saw the Singapore guys' gal. She had sat quietly the evening before when I had that long chat with him. He was nowhere to be seen. She said he had to go back to Singapore unexpectedly. Turns out her English was excellent, and no doubt had understood our entire conversation the evening before, but never let on!!! I half jokingly offered to book her (she was far and away the cutest girl in the whole village and I am unscrupulous!!!). She quickly refused, though she admitted that she went with other guys when her Sing BF was not around. BTW, the Sing guy knew she had to go on bookings with other guys, and hated it. We had talked about that the night before.
Then I saw the pretty gal, B, who was friends with my first night's gal and spoke really good English. I offered to book her, but she refused, clearly thinking I belonged to A. OK, I can figure this out. I booked A, the gal who had spent the first night with me. She was pleasant and cooperative company, if lousy in bed. After it was clear I had booked her, I asked B to come with us, I'd pay her booking too. Bingo! We all happily agreed to make it a 3some.
I had no idea how it would all work out, and had zero expectations. After a week of multiple sex sessions everyday, I was running on empty and more interested in the company than the sex. And I was curious to see how this situation would play out.
I gave them money for the ojek and I walked back to the hotel alone. They were waiting for me outside my room when I arrived. Turns out A was catching a cold and sneezing and coughing.
We sat on the patio, I drank water, B drank Guiness Stout, claimed she loved it, and A just held onto her tissues. We just chatted, hung out, and finally took a nap all together from 1 to 3pm, no sex. After waking they went outside again and sat and chatted. I watched TV for a bit, then sat with them outside and read my book while they chatted. Somehow, they decided it was time for boom boom. B tried hard to push A and me into the room, then closed the door and stayed outside. I went back outside and told B to come inside. She did not want to, but I insisted. B came inside, and right away A left! OK, I got it. They are not going to do it together. That's fine. I knew A's act was not very good, so if it was not gonna be a threesome, I at least wanted to try out B. We showered, than started kissing. Damn, she was really good! Moved down to excellent bj, then gave me a full body bath with her tongue, giving me goose bumps. Then she got on top and gave me the best fuck of the whole trip. She was wild and aggressive, not usually my style, but a nice change of pace. Her passion was more mechanical than genuine, but still good. Changed to missionary, then doggie. Either her pussy was too big, or my dick too small, but in either case, cumming was difficult and not helped by the condom. Nonetheless I finally reached the finish line. Afterwards she affectionately washed me from head to toe.
We called A back in, and I drank my daily ration of beer in anticipation of dinner. B sipped her Guiness, A had her tissue. I did not want to eat at the pujesera for a third night in a row, and have all those people staring at us. I asked them to go buy food and bring it back. Half an hour later they returned with mutton sate in sweet sauce, chicken sate in peanut sauce, and BBQ chicken wings, still expensive at 50,000, but all very good. I have no idea where they bought it.
They went back to their table on the patio to chat. I was really surprised they could just sit out there all day and all night! I tried to watch TV, but the beer was making me really sleepy, and damn if I was gonna sleep alone! I called them in and we made like a "meatloaf" sandwich (B's words, not mine!). B pressed herself up against my front, and A glued herself against my back, and I was the meatloaf. It was exquisitely comfortable and I quickly fell asleep.
The next morning there was an uncomfortable silence between the girls. They knew it as time for the morning sex session, but not sure who should do it. It was very clear they were not going to do it together. B left, again trying to get me and A together, and probably thinking she had done her duty the previous evening. I called her back in. She asked me in her excellent English, if we were going to have sex. I said no, I just wanted a four handed hand job. She talked to A, and they agreed to both stay for hj, as long as there was absolutely no sex. Fine. Neither of them even removed their tops as they started in. A was awful, yanking too fast and too hard, but improved after I instructed her about my preferences. B needed no coaching. Both girls used both hands to stroke and massage my entire groin area, again paying copious attention to the nether regions, with very pleasant results.
Photos: Friends A/B 30 31
I did not have enough money to pay the girls, and asked them to wait while I went across the street to change money. I had to get enough to pay the girls, my hotel as I was checking out that morning, the taxi and ferry, and enough for the first day at my next stop. I exchanged $300 at the rip off rate of just 8,000. I had wanted to exchange money on Bintan, but all the money changers were closed due to some holiday. Oh well.
I paid the girls, they left, and I went to breakfast. An 81 year old Singapore man sat with me and wanted to chat. His English was probably pretty good at one time. At 81, he was a little hard to understand. I asked him if he liked the girls. He said he only came to enjoy the cooler weather, the clean air, and the quiet countryside. He said he spent most of his time just lying on his bed and enjoying the tranquility. While everybody else around him pounded away in an endless orgy!
The Hotel Taman Gembira is a nice resort, great rooms for just 13,000. Big new TV, good air con, large room, bed plenty big enough for 3, nice bathroom and shower. Nice place to just hangout, but very little to do other than eat, drink, sleep and fuck. There is a pool and tennis court, not used much. The power went out about 3 times a day, but always came back on after just a few minutes. The phone in my room did not work. There was a menu suggesting room service was available, but there were no prices and I never tried. I know the hotel restaurant closed after breakfast making the pujasera the only place to eat dinner. I was told there was some sort of "canteen" and possibly an inexpensive restaurant on the other part of the property where the less expensive "chalets" were. The hotel was the easiest place to meet other Single Male Travelers.
As I ate my lousy breakfast the staff was setting up a stage in the lobby with microphones and putting out decorations. Looked like a wedding party?
My Singapore pal said everyday of the week was pretty much the same at Batu 7, unlike Batam where the weekends are much busier than week days. But I thought there was a lot more activity at the hotel Saturday morning compared to the other days I was there.
I can't remember which morning it was, but I went out very early and got a picture of the sunrise and the pujasera the "morning after".
5-19-04: I called the driver I had met on my arrival. Twenty minutes later he picked me, drove me to the terminal, carried my bags, bought my ticket (heading to Karimun Island, often referred to as just "Balai"), and even helped me board the ferry by carrying my suitcase and getting settled in a seat. Service way beyond expectations, and appreciated. Frankly I was getting tired of the terminal scenes. I always felt the atmosphere was a little hostile and dangerous. I was never sure which ferry to board, how or where to buy ticket, never knew who was going to collect the ticket, never knew who might try to rip me off or who might be helpful. So I very much appreciated being "babied" by the driver.
This "ferry" wasn't as much a ferry as just a large speedboat. Maybe 40 seats, but very tight and cramped. I easily filled up two seats and my knees were smashed against the seat in front of me. Luckily the boat was not full. I had gone from "death trap" ferry to Bintan, to sure "coffin" to Kundur, this boat was worse yet. To board the ferry, I had to "jump" off the dock and land on the bobbing covered bow of the boat. There was no railing, no helper, no safety guy, nothing to keep me from losing my balance and taking a swim, except my "athletic ability". I managed the jump, took a couple of steps and went down a hatch with a ladder, about six rungs, and into the "hold" of the little boat. I could not even stand up straight. There was only one crew member, the driver, and 3 outboard engines. At least the windows opened and we got a bit of a breeze inside the hot cabin.
I noticed an empty wallet on the seat next to me. Pickpocket leftovers? Two scary looking Indo guys sat directly behind me. The younger one next to the window lit a cigarette, the driver told him to put it out, and he threw it out the window. The older one was directly behind me. He leaned forward in his seat so that his face was inches from the back of my head, and talked in a loud voice to his companion. That voice! Loud, sharp, irritating, angry, and right in my ear. He was the only person on the boat talking, and he talked the entire trip. Right in my ear. Then the other guy leaned over the seat and dangled his hands over the seat. I had my hand bag on the seat next to me, his hands were a few inches above my bag. I always kept the zippers closed and locked, and now I firmly gripped the bag with one hand, and held the handle of my small suitcase with the other hand. I sat frozen like that for the entire one hour trip. There were no empty seats to move to, although I am not sure I would have tried to move anyway.
Meanwhile, in front of me were a Muslim lady with the head covering, and her two daughters. The lady took the opportunity of a "relaxed" one hour trip and the world's largest trash can outside her window to clean out her purse, constantly throwing trash out the window. The little girls helped. Banana peel, half eaten egg, candy wrappers, plastic water bottle, anything and everything went out the window!
We maneuvered through a group of maybe 40 very small islands for half the trip. Most looked uninhabited, but a few had a couple of thatched roof shacks and very crude wood dock. There was an incredible amount of junk floating in the water. Scrap wood, paper and plastic trash, I was surprised I did not here any clunks against the hull. On this ride, and the previous ride to Kundur, I had no idea how long the ferry ride would take, no idea how many stops it would make enroute, and no idea of what my destination would look like. Pulling into a dock, there were signs, but most were ads, and even a sign that told the name of the place, was not likely to match up to the names I knew. We made one 60 second stop at one of the little crude wood docks. I was pretty sure TJ Balai was a large city and would have a more substantial ferry terminal.
We pulled out into the open sea and increased speed. 15 minutes later we approached a larger terminal area. I wasn't sure if it was Karimun Island, or Balai, or what. Tons of signs, all ads. I finally got a glimpse of the Holiday Hotel sign, where I intended to stay, and was pretty sure we had arrived.
Exiting the boat was no easier than boarding, but at least the dock was not moving around. The Holiday Hotel was within easy walking distance, one reason I chose it. The touts here were thick as flies on shit, rude, and relentless. Why does it seem all Indo touts have unkept hair, 7 o'clock shadow, grubby clothes, and sinister smile with at least one broken tooth? One particularly slimy guy was especially persistent and followed me all the way to the hotel, constantly babbling and offering any service you could imagine in his limited vocabulary. Taxi? Ojek? Booking? Bike? Villa? (name of one of the island's brothel villages). I told him no dozens of times, jerked my bags away when he motioned to carry them for me. Yet he followed me all the way into the lobby of the hotel. I could not get rid of him.
The lady at the front desk was very cold and unfriendly. She completely ignored me. I had to ask for help. They had two rooms available. The smaller room was crappy so I took the larger room at US$40 a night. It was a very nice room though, better be at that price. View of the water, good TV, big bed, clean, modern, all the expected amenities, but no frig. As I walked up the stairs to the room I saw the slimy tout talk to the front desk bitch, took a hotel business card, and write something on it. Claiming his commission maybe?
Between the small ferry, the creeps that sat behind me, and the slimy tout, the trip had gotten to me. I was unsettled. I spent a long time in my room, showered, changed clothes, watched TV, consulted my notes to memorize as much info about Balai as I could, and just tried to relax. A couple of hours later I decided to head out. God Damn It that slimy little tout was sitting in the lobby waiting for me!!! I asked the lady at the front desk for a taxi and she pointed at the slimy guy!!!!!! I was incredulous!!!!! She offered no alternative. They were in it together! It was the world against me! I could trust nobody! I walked out. Mr. Slimeball followed me. I didn't know if I should give him money to leave me alone, or punch him. I was getting close to doing one or the other.
The Kundur taxi driver had told me to take a 3 wheel bike from the ferry to the Paragon hotel. Said it was in the middle of the action. I figured I'd check it out. The Holiday had a nice room, but I had to get away from receptionist Kratchet and her slimeball "son". Luckily there was a row of these 3 wheel bikes, (I forget what they are called, look like a rickshaw, you sit in a little buggie while the driver peddles you around). I chose one with a much older driver (I feel safer around the old guys I guess), confirmed the guy knew Paragon and set the price 5,000. Along the way I saw a bed sheet hanging from an upper floor window. On it someone had spray-painted the message, "GOD BLESS IRAQ". At the time, US was bombing the shit out of Iraq and I agreed the people of Iraq probably needed God's blessings as much or more than anybody. But I surely did not want to meet the author of the sign, afraid he might decide to exact revenge for America's invasion on yours truly. The trike suddenly stopped after just five minutes and the driver announced "Paragon!" to the stupid Bule, who did not even know enough to get out when the ride was over. I could have walked it in ten minutes if I had had any inkling where it was. I got out. It was in the middle of the action alright, the shopping action. I walked around a bit, checked out the shops, but they were very typical and nothing I hadn't seen before.
I got another trike and asked to go to Kepalan, a hotel in my notes that was also supposed to be in the middle of the action. This ride was much longer, and scary. We left the business district, and the road become smaller, shop buildings turned into warehouses, many of them abandoned, no cars or other people, I was truly afraid. We made a right hand turn and boom, there was the Kepalan Hotel, and a few store fronts. I saw a row of houses across from the hotel, all closed up. I had heard the girls call out from the second story windows, and I saw the large windows on the upper floors, but everything was shut up tight. The street was quiet. I entered the hotel, mostly for the air con and to regain my composure after the frightening trike trip. The hotel was more a budget type, older and not well kept. But behind the front desk was a pretty young girl. I asked her for a taxi, and she was nice!!! Poor English, but at least she tried! She spent a long time trying to help me. She said no taxi at the hotel, but she would try to call one. She got me a cool drink, got me situated in a nice chair in the lobby, and let me wait.
I waited and waited. She came over to me and told me "just a minute", every ten minutes or so. She went outside now and then to look for the taxi. I waited over an hour before the taxi finally came. Now why would I wait an hour you ask? Well, I had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do, I was in a nice air con lobby with cool drink and pretty girl taking care of me…why leave?? I would have waited another hour!
The taxi was a Rover, the driver was older with extraordinarily long neck hairs. Like they were cultivated or something!
We made a time deal, something like 100,000 for 3 hours. Probably a rip off, but I did not feel like I was in a position to bargain much.
I asked him to take me to internet café first. He tried, even made 3 phone calls, and took me to two places that had a sign that said "Internet". One was gaming only, the other was for long distance phone calls only. No real internet place that he could find.
I made a decision. Between the expensive hotel, the front desk bitch, the lack of taxis, the attitudes displayed by that bed sheet sign, and the slime ball tout stalking me, I decided to stay on Karimun just one day, instead of my planned 3 days. I would spend the last two days back on Batam, enjoying the friendly beer at Red Cock and Lucy's expat pubs, and the bule friendly ladies of Papa Banana.
The driver popped the question: "booking?", probably his only word of English. I think I said, "yup" or something equally eloquent. He said "Villa" over and over and started off. But after coming all this way I wanted to at least look at the fairly well known brothel village of Payar Labu at KM14. It was actually very difficult to make him change his route. I figured he wanted me to book and go back to hotel, so he could get paid for 3 hours for just 45 minutes of driving. I told him Payar Labu and he clearly did not want to go there. But I insisted. He gave in.
Since I was forcing him to do something he didn't really want to do my antennae was up again. After a 30 minute ride in the country side we suddenly went down a small road and soon were in Payar Labu. I got out and looked around a little. The place was virtually identical to Batu24 on Bintan, and Tujuh7 on Kundur. There were lots of little houses with a porch, and a few mostly older unattractive gals sitting around. I got out and passed out my candies which were again well received. I didn't see any girl I wanted to spend time with, and worried about how to get her back to the village the next morning, and wanted to see Villa anyway. So after just a few minutes, climbed back into the old Rover. I did not even take the time to snap some pics, they would have looked just like Batu24 and Batu7.
My notes said there was a place called PuaKang. I asked the driver to take me there, but he was now on a mission with tunnel vision and would not be swayed. We were making a beeline for Villa. In the interest of staying peaceful, I did not insist and let him take me to Villa.
The Villa was much nicer than all the other brothel villages. The road was one loop, maybe a quarter mile long, with houses on both sides. Perhaps 60 houses all together, but not all were open. Each house had 5 to 20 girls, generally younger and more attractive than the other villages.
Photos: Villa 32 33 34 35 36 37
I wandered around with my driver tagging along. He clearly enjoyed looking at the girls too! I stopped in nearly every house. The girls usually did a formal "line up", unlike the other villages that are way more laid back. There was also far more pressure to pick a girl, both from the resident papa and from my driver. Each house had one or two slimy Indo guys hanging around, the owner or papa I guess. I made a few written notes about which houses had good looking girls so I could go back and pick one, if I did not find miss perfect. One papa angrily accused me of being a reporter as I took written notes and flashed my digital camera. I showed him my notes, and convinced him I was just writing down house numbers and the names of pretty girls, nothing else. He calmed down and tried to get me to select one of his girls. I also stopped taking written notes!
I made it all the way around the loop without finding Miss Perfect, but had several possibilities. I went to choice #1, a cute quiet gal with a shy smile who had flashed that smile at me discreetly once or twice, but kept a straight face if she thought the other girls were looking at her. She refused to go with Bule! Go figure. I thought that shy smile was a silent invitation? My second choice claimed to be on the rag. Hey, one more strike and I'm out?
My third choice, Su, easily agreed to booking. She was younger, but still clearly old enough. Very plain looking, slightly broad nose, no make up, small petite body, and back at the hotel I found she had perfectly shaped breasts….isn't youth wonderful!
On the way back to the hotel we stopped to buy a battery for my translator which had already died after just one week, beer and some snacks. (I notice I keep mentioning snacks. I want to say for the record, the beer was for me, the snacks mostly for the girls, and the girls always took the left over snacks with them). B, the Guiness Stout girl on Kundur was the only one who wanted to drink with me, although most girls smoked cigs.
Back at the hotel, it was late afternoon. We watched TV, then had sex. No oral, not much foreplay, but she was tight, accommodating, and responsive and turned out to have a few unexpected moves.
I drank the beer. With no frig I had to use the water pitcher as an ice bucket to get my beer cold enough. The gal thought I was silly. What do you expect from a stupid bule? I ordered room service. I was learning my lesson. No reason to go out with this gal. Just put us both in a position to be stared at and feel uncomfortable, maybe ridiculed. I was happy to stay in the privacy of my room, and she seemed to be as well. We had the unofficial Indo national dish, nasi goreng and ayam goreng, fried rice and fried chicken. Simple, but the best food I'd had the whole trip, very well done. And expensive. The hotel did not offer sate, but the bell boy said he could go outside and get some. Hey, a friendly bell boy! Cool. He came back with some good mutton sate, but again, expensive.
My gal crawled into bed at 8:30 and motioned for me to join her, I like that. As usual the beer and food made me very drowsy and we fell sleep, no sex. She was a lousy cuddler and slept like a log.
We woke at 7am, she took a shower and we had a simple morning fuck. She dressed and got ready to leave. I tipped her. As she started to leave she turned to me and surprised me by giving me several sincere affectionate goodbye kisses!! Hey, wait a minute, come back here…..but she was gone.
She was no newbie with four months of work under her belt. But she still had that fresh innocent look and attitude. She was extremely quiet, passive, not easy to smile, but when she did smile it was genuine. She had what looked like self inflicted cigarette burns on her wrists.
5-20-04: Down to the free breakfast. Same old stuff, fried noodles and fried rice, but with an additional dish, spicy chicken and tofu, and they had milk for the coffee. The food was far better than any other hotel breakfast I'd had. The dining room was nice, overlooking the water. In hindsight, dinner in this dining room might have been pretty nice?
I checked out and walked to the ferry. Thank goodness that slimy tout was nowhere to be seen, found another sucker perhaps?
I found the area that sold the tickets. There were several offices selling tickets, I had no idea which one to go to. There were lots of signs, but I could not understand them. By far the worst thing was the touts. Each office seemed to have it's own tout, a middle aged man, unshaved, unkept hair, who shouted in a loud, aggressive, demanding, threatening type voice. With about 15 of these guys all yelling at the same time, it was both deafening and frightening. None of them paid any attention to me. I knew I wanted to take a ferry called Batam jet. I finally saw one office with a sign noting Batam Jet and Dumi express. There was no screaming tout at the door, and inside was a peaceful looking Muslim lady. I asked for Batam Jet to Batam. She spoke no English, but I got the message. No Batam Jet, but they had Dumi express to Batam leaving in an hour for 30,000. Fine. Whatever. I knew Batam had a few different terminals, and had no idea to which terminal this ferry was going. Batam was small enough I could afford the taxi fare from any terminal to Nagoya.
Buying the ticket was confusing. Most passengers come from the street. The natural progression is to buy a ticket, then proceed to the dock entrance where you buy a dock pass, then to the boarding area. But since I was coming from the hotel, I had to walk past the dock entrance first, then enter through the "exit" to get to the ticket stalls. Then go back through the exit to buy the dock pass, and continue to the boarding area. I suppose it does not sound too complicated now, but at the time, with those barkers screaming bloody murder at the top of their lungs, and me never knowing if they were just yelling in general or yelling specifically at me, it was very difficult to figure out.
It was also the first time I had to buy the ticket myself, hell I didn't even know there was a separate dock pass I had to buy! I learned later that at the other terminals, the ticket vendor also sold the dock pass and had just stamped my ticket. Here it was a whole separate deal.
I waited on the dock. There were young male touts aggressively and loudly selling water, snacks, magazines and newspapers. Why do they all think a loud barking threatening type voice is the only way to get attention and make a sale? I continually found it not just annoying but threatening. I suppose it's just the Indo style and I should have accepted it. But in my short stay, I could not. One teenage tout selling magazines held up a TIME magazine in front of me that featured a picture from the US war in IRAQ on the cover. He shoved it within inches of my face and screamed IRAQ at the top of his lungs. I thought he was personally blaming me and was only seconds away from exacting his personal revenge on behalf of Muslims worldwide. Maybe I was just paranoid, but no one from the western world could consider his behavior "friendly".
All the previous ferries had been on time. This one was late. I saw the Batam Jet pull up. It was my first choice, but the ticket seller I chose did not sell tickets for it. I thought perhaps Batam Jet and Dumai shared like the airlines, since one ticket dealer advertised them on the same sign? I showed my ticket to the Batam Jet guy, and he turned me away yelling "Dumai". Doesn't anybody have any manners around here?
The Dumai ferry finally showed, 30 minutes late. As it pulled up, the nice young lady standing next to me said very softly, "Dumai". Why is it that all the young ladies are nice and the young males are mostly assholes? Then all the teenage male touts screamed in delight at the stupid Bule, Dumai!, Dumai!!, DUMAI!!!, pointing to the incoming ferry. Yea, maybe they were just being helpful, in their own way, but why do they have to scream and bark like a pack of wild dogs?
Once again I was challenged to board the ferry. This time it was a simple wood gangplank, just 18" wide with no railings. I once again managed to not fall into the water. The ferry was old and grey, but larger and not as scary as the three previous ferries. There were even a few life preservers hanging on the wall, though nowhere near one per seat.
A crew member motioned for me to leave my suitcase in the front. But there was no way I was gonna be separated from my luggage. I put my suitcase where he told me, than sat down in the front row of seats, right next to the luggage area. Seats were five to a row, another passenger sat in my row. But as soon as we were underway he moved. Guess he just couldn't stand the smell of bule.