Indonesia // Solo-Traveling
Me and a turtle. It looks like they fly, rather than swim. Right? It’s so soothing.
Uluwuatu 🏄♂️ -> Komodo National Park 🐉 -> Ubud 🌴 -> Nusa Penida 🏖️ -> Ubud 🌴
I could attempt to describe the amazing places that Indonesia has to offer.
But we’re so lucky to be able to touch a button, and capture with great detail what stands in front of our eyes.
So I’ll start with a few of those, but not too many.
You’ve probably seen some of these online somewhere before, so feel free to skip ahead…
BUT: don’t miss the policeman story below.
Hard to spice it up with pictures, really, but (try to) get to the bottom of it! 👮♂️
Actually wait, 7.64 more seconds. Look at this magic moment where a giant black & white puffy fish bumps into a turtle.
🐢+ 🐡
Or at this DUGONG swimming on top of a turtle?
👮♂️🚨 Okay, police story. I hope you enjoy (more than I did)! 🚨⬇️
The intro to this blog post is accurate, yes.
I did chase a police man. 🛵
Let’s start with a premise: It was my first day in Ubud.
And my third EVER riding a scooter. (Yes, I did some test drives, and yes, I did feel confident riding it).
It was actually easier than I thought, and my two-decade-long biking experiences definitely helped.
But back to us:
I was heading toward the Monkey Forest Sanctuary with my motorbike.
[FUN FACT: I overheard a guide saying that monkeys are TRAINED to steal from people. Indonesians then steal from monkeys. And sure enough…. A girl was screaming because a monkey stole her phone, and someone had her sunglasses stolen too…]
I input the address on Google Maps, stick my phone inside the phone holder, and depart.
4 MIN away. ⏰
Easy, I say to myself. What can possibly happen in four minutes?
Boy was I wrong…
Ubud on a non-trafficky day.
As I ride, I keep glancing to my phone and see the classic Google Maps white arrow marching towards a blue path. All good.
The street is busy, chaotic, narrow.
After a few seconds, I realize something:
I am the only one riding the opposite way.
But since the two-lane road was so narrow, I thought that maybe it was just a very busy segment.
My concerns keep rising the more meters I drive…
After 20 meters, [and I swear, right before I was deciding to turn around] a cop approaches me.
He does not look happy.
“What you doing? You stupid?! Come with me “
[You might be thinking to yourself: “Mattia c’mon you were the ONLY ONE riding in the wrong way!” And to that I reply that yes, you are correct. I had absolutely no reason to complain with the police. I simply apologized in fact.]
[I wish I had more pictures to include, but as you can imagine that wasn’t my priority in such a situation. I then appeal to your imagination, my patient reader, and ask that you fill this story images from your grey matter 🧠]
Yes he gives me a ticket, but this is NOT the end of the story.
Not even close, as a matter of fact.
I dismount my motorbike, show its papers and my license.
Everything okay. I even have the IDP (International Driving Permit) I purchased after reading a few blog posts about Indonesian police.
In Italy, when you are given a ticket, the paper shows a payable amount, with instructions on how to pay it.
But in Bali? Forget about it.
The policeman tells me to follow him.
That’s weird. Why would I follow a policeman?
He takes me to a less crowded place, has me fill up a form (with Passport information), and takes my scooter papers.
After that, he leaves (⁉️) and hands me a sheet of paper:
1️⃣ Is it in English? Nope.
2️⃣ Do people around me speak even just a few words in English? Nope.
3️⃣ Does T-Mobile fast data work in Indonesia? Nope.
4️⃣ Does it say how to pay the ticket? Nope.
5️⃣ Is the cop’s calligraphy objectively understandable? You guessed it.
Now, imagine me:
A cop collects my passport information, hands me an Indonesian ticket, and leaves.
I look at it, still with my helmet on, surrounded by non-English people, in the middle of the main road in Ubud.
Chickens running around, cows invading streets, roosters screaming, monkeys climbing up electricity cables.
And scooters, so many scooters dribbling through the traffic.
🐔 + 🐮 + 🔊 + 🚘 + 🛵 + 🐓 + 🐒
Noah and its ark would have been jealous of the ZOO that was displaying in front of my eyes.
Thank God, for once in my life I thought about being prudent.
When the cop was writing down the ticket, I asked for his Whatsapp number.
So I obviously call him the second I realize I have absolutely no idea what to do.
He sends me his location and I reach him with my scooter.
I get there, and he says:
“Follow me. I Fast.”
“Okay.”
Fast?!
This guy turns into Valentino f***** Rossi.
I honk for a solid 10 minutes to try to slow him down, but he does not hear me.
I must have took 3 correct turns, because after a few minutes that he disappeared, I find him on the right of the street.
I even took a video. I start to think that I should document this, the situation started to look too weird.
Here is where we were: I took the end of it not entirely show his face, but you can see that we were pretty hidden and traffic sounds far away:
“What do I do with this? How do I pay?”
“July 7th. Department of Justice. Bye!”
He tries to flee the scene again, but this time I grab him. Stiffly.
“What [the absolute F**K] do you mean July 7th?! I leave the country in 5 days.”
“July 7th only. Not my problem.”
And he leaves.
Again.
NOW I’m worried.
You guessed it:
I call him again, he sends me his location, I drive there.
At this point I’ve seen the entirety of Ubud just by following this guy.
I see him, he takes me to another hidden location, (of course) and tells me, out of compassion maybe:
“I help you speed up.”
“Okay, thank you!!”
After some checks, we’re back to the start. July 7th in-person.
He leaves, I call him, he sends me his location, I drive there, (this is not a typo. I am not lying to you) and he takes me to another hidden place.
I’m now: scared + worried + SKEPTIC! Of course one starts to get skeptic.
Is this guy even a cop? Why would he talk to me only if hiding? Is he trying to scam tourists?
So I ask him something, that turns out to be a BAD mistake:
“Can I see your cop ID? I don’t understand why we keep hiding to talk. I just want to know how to pay this ticket.”
“You no think I’m cop?!?”
He takes it personal. He loses his patience.
“You no trust me? I no help you speed up.”
“NONONONONONO please! Sorry! I’m sorry Made (that’s his name, pronounced “Made” which means second born in Indonesian).”
It takes 20 minutes for me to calm him down, and have him talk to me in a human manner again.
He finally attempts to give me instructions on how to pay this before July 7th, but I cannot understand what he’s saying. I must have told me the following line about 100 times:
“Put this in paper.”
I have no idea what he means.
The 100th time he repeats this (and he was losing his patience again), I hand him my phone with Google Translate open: Indonesian -> English.
Proud of having done a smart thing, I look at him hopeful and convinced of myself.
If asking him to show me his ID was a bad mistake, this was a FATAL one.
His reaction?
1️⃣ He takes my phone.
2️⃣ Looks down at it.
3️⃣ Glances at me with disbelief.
4️⃣ Sarcastically laughs.
5️⃣ “Goodbye, Mattia.”
He must have felt like I insulted his English, but there is absolutely NO WAY to get him back to my good side. No way.
Made (that was his name, Made) as my only way to not having to go back to Indonesia on July 6th just to pay a ticket, and fly back the next day.
With my scooter papers with him (which are due back to the rental agency in a couple of days), and with a hold in the system on my passport number.
And he was gone. For good this time.
Deep breaths, Mattia.
I decide to head to the general police station in Ubud.
I show them the ticket he gave me, and tell them that I was told to pay it on July 7th in person ONLY.
To my absolute relief, they look at me like I’m mad.
They’ve never heard of such a thing!
“Go to bank, get cash, give teller receipt, pay.”
“ARE YOU F****** KIDDING ME?”
Of course, I did not say that, but boy did that scream in my mind.
The bank is right across the street. 🏦
ATM -> withdraw 500K IRP (about 35 USD) -> bank.
Wait. Not over yet.
The teller inputs the receipt ID, but nothing comes up.
Made’s handwriting was so bad that we could not decipher the digits.
So I call him. No reply.
Again, no reply.
Back to police station, I have THEM call HIM.
He picks up instantly. ☎️
After a few minutes, the policeman receives a screenshot with the ticket ID.
— It was missing a digit —
I’m finally able to pay it.
Here we are again:
I call him, he sends me his location, I drive there, and NO, he does not take me to a hidden place this time.
I hand him the receipt, and he gives me back the scooter paper.
No more passport hold. Mattia is free to go. Fiu.
P.S. I don’t like having unresolved matters. So the day I left, I sent him this:
