GETTING TO BATAM
I arrived at Changi Airport in Singapore at 1am and decided to just sleep at the airport. I spent most of the time in the downstairs arrival area. I was tired after the long flight via Narita, and did not want to lug my bags around the airport exploring. Didn’t think of trying to find a locker. After resting and half sleeping a couple hours on the small uncomfortable chairs in the downstairs arrival lobby, I felt a little refreshed and explored. I found a much nicer place to rest/sleep two floors upstairs, cooler, darker, larger lounge chairs, and a dozen or so men sleeping on the floor using cardboard or newspaper for bedding just like the street people in SF, I felt right at home!

Instead of taking a taxi to the World Trade Center to catch a ferry to Batam, I decided to take the public bus. First bus left at 6:30 and I was really tired of hanging around the airport. The first Batam ferry was not until 8:30 am or thereabouts. A taxi at 6:30am would get me there way too early. I figured spending an hour plus on the aircon bus was fine, and would give me opportunity to see a bit of Singapore and to people watch, a favorite past time. And I would save S$15 or 20 on the taxi fare.

The buses leave from the basement of the airport, very convenient. There is also a small grocery store by the bus stops where I bought a cold drink and requested change of small coins for the bus fare. There are many information signs in English at the bus stops, but none indicated how to get to the World Trade Center, or what the fares were. I was surprised that I had to ask three different bus drivers before finding one who spoke enough English to tell me what bus to take. I thought everybody in Singapore spoke decent English. Turns out I had to take two buses, #24 from the airport, then transfer to #30 at some point.

There were about 10 different stops for the busses to pick up passengers in the basement. When the first #24 bus came along I was at the wrong stop and could not hustle over to catch it in time. The next #24 bus came along about 15 minutes later, and I was able to get aboard.

I asked the driver how much, he told me the fare was S$1, but I did not know where to put the money. He realized I was a totally ignorant tourist, and pointed to the box for the money. I found a seat near the driver, and the driver continued to wave at me as we drove off. Finally a young person indicated to me that I had to take the little ticket from the dispenser and the driver stopped waving at me. I asked the driver to tell me where to get the #30 bus, he nodded. Along the way, I noticed that the bus stops have signs with the stop name and number, and a list of the busses that stop there. It was a little hard to see the small signs from the bus, but doable.

The bus was not real crowded at 7am. Singapore was every bit as clean, modern, and antiseptic as advertised. I was a little surprised to see so many very dark skinned people, I did not realize there were so many non Chinese people in Singapore.

I was carefully watching the signs at the bus stops, and when I saw a stop that listed bus #30, I stood up. At the same time the driver waved at me, and I got off.

About a dozen busses came in the next 10 minutes, some with the same number, but no #30. Finally a #30A bus came, what is that? An express bus? So I asked the driver if he went to the World Trade Center. I was surprised that he acted like he could not understand me at all, even when I said very slowly, “World Trade Center”, and he rather rudely waved me off. A few minutes later a #30 bus arrived and I boarded. I asked the driver what the fare was to the World Trade Center and to tell me when we got there. He said S$1.40. I dropped my coins in the box, and again forgot to take my ticket. Again a young person pointed to the ticket dispenser while looking at me and I took the ticket.

I carefully followed the street signs and bus stops. Having previously studied a map of Singapore, I recognized we were getting close to the World Trade Center. Soon thereafter I saw a building on the left that said World Trade Center on it. There was quite a bit of road construction in the area. I got off with several other passengers, and followed the crowd in the general direction of the WTC. The path was clear, well marked in English, and easy to follow, despite the construction. The bus trip took about 75 minutes, leaving the airport around 6:45am, and arriving at WTC about 8:00am.

I went in the front door of the WTC. A Starbucks Coffe store greeted me as soon as I entered. I did not realize that WTC is a modern shopping mall, identical to a typical American mall, only a bit smaller. I remembered that the ferry ticket sales counters were upstairs, so I took the escalator up one flight, but only saw more shops. No signs that I could see indicated this was a ferry terminal or where to buy ferry tickets. I looked around for the ticket stands and could not see them. So I walked along the mall looking for the ticket stands. A few minutes later I was nearing the end of the mall and saw the ticket stands. I was again surprised that they were little temporary booths set up next to the escalator, not a real storefront. Each ferry company had their own little booth, and they were all right next to each other. I did not shop around for price, having decided ahead of time to take the larger (and safer???) Penguin Ferries. After seeing some of the other ferries, I was happy to be on Penguin. The counter person spoke reasonable English, and I got a round trip ticket to Batu Ampar for S$26. The disembarkation card was automatically filled out for me by computer, cool.

There were two entrances to the departure areas. The counter lady had told me to go to the left, but the sign above that door said “Regional Departures”. The other door said International departures. I knew I was leaving the country of Singapore, and entering the country of Indonesia, and that’s International, right? Wrong. I followed the counter person’s directions, and went in the Regional Departure door, along with nearly everybody else. Turned out to be the correct one. I do not know which destinations are served from the International gates.

I had read some complicated instructions for checking baggage on the ferries on the internet. I had one small suitcase and one carryon bag, which I could easily handle by myself. Nobody told me to check the luggage, and I just carried it on board by myself. I passed through passport control and got to the departure area about 8:20am. My ferry was due to depart at 8:40am. I again remembered having read that the ferries start boarding 30 minutes before departure. There were two ferries boarding from two different gates A steward calling out boarding information in a foreign language (Indonesian?). There were no signs that I could see that indicated which door I should use to board my ferry. I walked up and showed my ticket to the guy, he indicated no, and pointed to the seats where I should wait. But don’t the ferries start boarding 30 minutes before departing? Around 8:35 the steward started shouting out more boarding instructions. I once again showed him my ticket, and he indicated I should walk out the door behind him. I followed the crowd down the ramp and into the ferry. The boat was rocking quite a bit in the water and I was afraid I might lose my footing as I stepped off the pier and onto the boat while carrying my bags, but I made it safely. The ferry was quite a bit smaller than the commuter ferries running in San Francisco Bay, seating about 125. The seats inside were padded and comfortable. The air con worked well, as did the two TV sets in the front, each playing a different video tape with the volume turned up loud. We were off a few minutes later.

The ride to Batu Ampar on Batam took about one hour. I saw at least two hundred cargo ships anchored at sea along the way, far more than I have ever seen in San Francisco Bay.

Arriving at the Batu Ampar terminal gave me my first taste of third world culture shock. An ugly, rusty, factory with smoke billowing from the exhaust stack was right next to the small jetty where we docked. Everything was at once old, dirty, and dilapidated. Not only was the boat rocking, but the floating pier onto to which I stepped was rocking, not quite in sync with the boat. I again made the transition safely and followed the crowd into the terminal. There were several men just hanging around, which was soon to become a very familiar sight. Immigration was inside a dingy, dark building with no air con. There was an ineffective ceiling fan, that stopped when the power went out. Nobody took notice of the lack of power like it happened all the time and continued with their business. There were two desks, each with about 30 people in each line. I wish I could remember exactly what the signs above them said. One was something like “tourist visas”, and the other “visa application”. I had no idea in which line to wait. I picked the one on the left. Nearly all of the people in line looked more Indonesian than anything else. The line I did not pick moved much faster, and I noticed a few people who were clearly Chinese in that line and one white person. He seemed to have a bit of a problem with his papers, but passed through after a couple minutes delay. When the last person in that line passed through, I switched lines and walked up to the available clerk. He looked at my papers, and passed me through easily. I have no idea if I could have entered via the line on the left or not. Still don’t know what was the difference between the two lines.

There is supposed to be some sort of stand inside the terminal where you can buy a taxi coupon, saving the hassle of negotiating with the taxis, none of which use a meter. I never saw that stand. Maybe I was too nervous about what I knew would happen as soon as I exited the terminal. I would be hounded by taxis and touts. But I was unprepared for the intensity of the onslaught. It was non-stop, with literally dozens of young men soliciting me in both broken English and Indonesian. I ignored them all. But I was also at a loss as to what to do. I started to walk around the small parking lot in front of the terminal, looking for a taxi that was dropping off people, has I had been advised from reading notes on the internet. I could not find one and I was not about to just stand still waiting for one, and be a sitting duck for the touts. I completed my loop of the parking lot, and could not tell what the road to Nagoya might be, and realized I would have no idea what a safe taxi might be. So I returned to the crowd of touts and taxi drivers. I saw a yellow taxi that I thought might be safer, the yellow color was somewhat reassuring to me I guess. There was no driver nearby. Then a well dressed, gentle looking young man approached me and pointed to his much newer looking car, and asked in pretty good English if I wanted a taxi. I reluctantly said yes, lacking any better alternative. I asked how much. He said R20,000. I suggested 15,000, he said no, 20,000. So much for my first try at negotiating taxi fares, and I never got any better at it.

He took me straight away to the Melia Panoramic Hotel in about 15 minutes. He made a little bit of small talk along the way, but I was not very talkative, and he soon gave up. I gave him the money, and a small tip, about 3,000. He was not expecting it, but took it without saying anything, like thank you or something…..

1. Misc. Ken, Oct 3, 2000
1. Untitled. Anonymous, Oct 3, 2000
2. Numbers. G man, Oct 5, 2000