part eight

Day Seventeen - Back in Jakarta just in time for diarrhoea. Nearing the collapse of capital reserves at this point so am forced to negotiate Jakartinian public transit with a rear end fit for fire fighting duty. Not a pleasant experience but a memorable one and there is perhaps something to be said for that; although it was a rather a disapointment that I was unable to visit the nightspots of the Glodok district, one of which, Tanamur, is described thusly in horny, er, lonely planet - Jakarta's most infamous disco. This institution is jammed with gyrating revelers of every race, creed and sexual proclivity. It is unbelievably crowded after midnight. Wear what you like - I had planned to wear my new sarong. Oh well.

Day Eighteen - Am awoken at 4AM once again by the call to prayer which, as it turns out, was a good thing as I would have missed my flight home otherwise.

The End