Lombok arrivals

Arriving into the soft and black Indonesian night was a delight at first, even a bit of a chilly experience: How refreshing getting out of the Bornean humidity. But I say at first since the chaos was inevitable and imminent.
As we entered the Arrivals hall trying to join the passport queue, it became evident that Lombok isn't part of the recent visa free -area of Indonesia. Why would it be...? Into the neighbouring Bali most Europeans can enter visa free, but not Lombok; apparently some tourist appreciation scheme, our guide knew to tell later. Well, I'd appreciate very much if they'd appreciate us everywhere, not just on tourist ridden Bali.

Anyway - pay we must. So we queued, and queued, and queued, which is always a delight after 9 hours travelling with a toddler. Of course the fee has risen from $25 to $35 each, meaning we didn't have enough money. The only currency we actually have a handful of is Malaysian ringgits: funny that, having flow from Malaysia, but obviously they don't accept ringgits. Luckily the international credit card sign is visible in the window. Well, then, after a 25 minute wait, turns out that the credit card machine is broken. What now? At least there is a cash point at the arrivals in Denpasar but Lombok airport resembles more of those that Ryanair would use... Fear not - husband is escorted out of the building to find a cashpoint. 

With millions in his pocket it then turns out, that the fee in Rupiah for three is more than the cashpoint dispenses at once. Of course, why shouldn't it be? Luckily we can cover our fees with added cash from the last Indonesia trip and we're finally let through to the passport control as the last passengers of the evening. Luckily our bags hadn't been dispatched back to KL... 

Through the arrivals door, and a familiar chaos greets us with people pushing, shouting and generally selling something, anything; mostly taxi rides. Luckily we have our guide waiting: probably an overpriced service but saved us the barthering and ending up with the non-avoidable taxi with no seat belts, not suspension, and defenitely no air. I'm definitely more for glamping rather than skimping, especially in these parts of the world where even a premium service has a reasonable price tag for a tourist. The corridors are blocked with people and the parking lot is full if meandering families with bags of makanan: the sun has set, it's time to eat no matter where you are. Our guide was explaining that in the month of Ramadan many family members return and the whole village comes to great them at the airport. So we see truckfuls of people and balance acts of motor cycles being ferried in and out of the airport. I felt pretty smug sitting in my air conditioned taxi, sipping cold water having had my suitcases carried for me.  

Lessons learnt, though: don't trust any circulating news article. Do your research properly and carry enough US $.