At 8 am, with some spare time on my hands, I aimed to reach Penang Airport by 11 am for my Banda Aceh flight. After breakfast, I promptly ventured outside in search of a nearby pharmacy, following the directions Milly and Jess had provided. The small pharmacy was just a 5-minute walk away, but to my dismay, I discovered it was closed, realizing it was Sunday. Frustrated, I couldn’t purchase toilet paper for my upcoming journey. Returning to the hostel, I bid farewell to Milly and Jess, planning to reunite in Europe, considering our geographical proximity.
Penang international airport
Strolling towards the harbor, where the bus terminal was situated, I opted for a 3-ringgit bus ride to the airport instead of the 30-ringgit cab fare. While on the bus, I pondered over how little I had the chance to explore Penang.
An hour later, I found myself at the airport by 11 am, a bit too early for the Firefly check-in desk, which was scheduled to open at 11:30 am. To pass the time, I grabbed some sandwiches, connected to the wifi, and exchanged 200 ringgit for 600,000 Indonesian Rupiahs (IDR) at the currency exchange. While waiting, I did some typing, took a stroll around the airport, and initially anticipated boarding a small airplane (as seen in the third picture). However, to my surprise, the aircraft turned out to be even smaller—a propeller-driven airplane, specifically the ATR 72-500.
Firefly
This flight was truly unique! Unlike any of my previous experiences, it stood out. Luckily, the airplane was only half full, allowing me to secure a window seat. As we took off, I enjoyed a fantastic view of Penang below. Regrettably, I didn’t capture any pictures of the scenery, a decision I still lament. The plane executed a turn during take-off, providing me with a captivating aerial perspective of the airport and the picturesque landscape.
Firefly proved to be an excellent budget airline in Asia, surprising me with unexpected treats like a cupcake and orange juice, which I hadn’t anticipated. Despite initial nervousness before takeoff, the flight turned out to be one of the smoothest and most comfortable experiences I’ve had. As we descended into Banda Aceh, I marveled at the expansive rice fields stretching to the horizon. There was a moment when I almost believed the pilot might choose one as our landing spot, but as we touched down, a well-maintained airstrip assured a safe arrival.
Arrival at Banda Aceh, Indonesia
Reaching the capital of Indonesia’s Aceh province marked a milestone for me. The transition from Malaysia was palpable as soon as I disembarked. The air felt slightly warmer, not drastically different from Malaysia, but definitely warmer and more humid. My initial cultural shock in Indonesia hit me upon arriving at Banda Aceh’s airport. A bus pulled up directly in front of the airplane, taking us to the terminal entrance, a mere 30 meters away. The situation seemed absurd, especially considering we were the only plane at the airport.
Getting through customs was a breeze, thanks to the visa I had arranged in Singapore, making the entire process hassle-free. While I could bypass the customs officials initially, I had to fill in a form at the desk. The officer seemed in a rush, urging me to hurry, and though everyone else had already left the terminal, I took my time. It wasn’t until I handed him the form and proceeded to the security check that I realized why he was in a hurry—the lights were being turned off behind me. It struck me as amusing, considering Banda Aceh’s airport is only open for this one flight from Penang.
Cab Drive to Banda Aceh
I took a cab to reach my hotel in Banda Aceh. The majority of the traffic was dominated by scooters, and nearly every local I encountered was smoking cigarettes. Along the journey from the airport to Banda Aceh, approximately every 5 kilometers, I observed campfires emitting substantial columns of rising white smoke. It was later revealed that these fires were burning piles of rubbish. It’s interesting how one seldom contemplates waste services in other countries until directly faced with them.
Banda Aceh appeared more like a large, open village than a city in my eyes. I anticipated a city of considerable size to be adorned with numerous tall buildings, but instead, the town comprised mostly of low-rise structures. The most prominent edifice, as far as I could discern, was the Baiturrahman Grand Mosque.
To my delight, the taxi driver drove safely, and the overall traffic on the road felt secure. In contrast to Kuala Lumpur, I experienced a heightened sense of safety. It even crossed my mind to contemplate renting a moped in Banda Aceh.
A horrible hotel
The Banda Aceh hotel I had reserved appeared clean and pleasant in the online images. Unfortunately, upon arrival, it turned out to be a major scam. They did not have the room I had booked, and I was forced to pay an additional 25,000 IDR (Indonesian Rupiah). Despite expressing my frustration and dissatisfaction, they remained unimpressed and indifferent.
The room I received was extremely basic and sketchy. While I anticipated a simple accommodation, this exceeded all expectations. In hindsight, it ranked among the worst rooms of my global journey. The bathroom featured an Indonesian-style bath and a non-functional toilet. The layout of the toilet was particularly absurd, placed in the center of the bathroom, which was unsettling. Adjacent to the toilet was a small water hose connected to a tap, as locals opt for water cleaning instead of using toilet paper. To avoid the unpleasant bathroom, I decided to forgo washing myself that day.
Money? Try Again
In the afternoon, I set out in search of an ATM. The girl at the front desk had to enlist someone who spoke English to assist me. It amused me greatly that, despite booking online, the hotel lacked English-speaking staff. Amidst the comical misunderstandings, the man instructed me to turn left and walk for ten minutes. He assured me that I would find an ATM at the Hermes Hotel. The stroll felt peculiar as many Indonesian people stared at me, their faces displaying friendly smiles. I became an unintentional attraction, an odd yet amusing experience. Reflecting now, I can empathize with how famous individuals might feel, assuming they are adored and well-liked celebrities.
Right beside the Hermes Hotel, I noticed an ATM located within a coffee shop. To my dismay, the ATM failed to dispense any money. ‘Not again,’ I thought, recalling my day of attempting various ATMs in Kuala Lumpur. Approximately thirty people observed my approach, each offering friendly smiles. Seeking assistance, I approached someone in the coffee shop. A guy guided me back to the same ATM, and the entire coffee shop audience, 30-40 people, followed our every move with their curious eyes. It felt like I was on a theater stage, performing for the locals right then and there, haha. Despite the language barrier, the guy comprehended that the ATM wouldn’t accept my debit card. Eventually, he signaled for me to follow him.
The Hermes Hotel ATM
The alternative ATM was situated on the hotel grounds, right beside the coffee shop. Ironically, I had abandoned the quest to locate the Hermes Hotel, yet there it was. The two guards stationed in front of the Hermes Hotel greeted me with smiles, and I inquired about the ATM’s location. As I approached the guards, they promptly shook my hands, radiating warmth and friendliness. Once again, I was astonished by their joyfulness and eagerness to extend a handshake. Noticing that one of them had a deformed thumb, I tactfully averted my gaze.
The guards escorted me to their designated ATM, located about 30 meters away from the main gate. This time, I decided not to leave anything to chance. I withdrew two million IDR from the ATM initially, and as an added precaution, I withdrew another million. Given my impending journey to Pulau Weh the next day, I wanted to ensure I had sufficient cash on hand. Holding all that cash, it felt a bit like playing Monopoly—three sizable stacks of banknotes. At this juncture, carrying such a significant amount of money, about 200 euros, through Banda Aceh made me a tad apprehensive.
A Local Snack
On my way back, I decided to try some local fried snacks. I couldn’t quite discern what they were, and describing the taste remains a challenge, but they were enjoyable. During the purchase, the vendor handed me some change, and an adjacent man raised his hand. Thinking he was seeking payment for a bottle of water, I handed him 200,000 IDR, not realizing I had given him thirteen euros due to my confusion about the conversion rate. Once I realized the mistake, we shared a laugh as I retrieved my money, and the man chuckled, well aware that the funds were not intended for him—he was simply having a playful moment with me.
Sign Language
After ten minutes, I arrived back at the hotel. Once there, I opted to draft some blog posts. Unwilling to confine myself to the room, I attempted to work in the lobby. However, within 10 minutes, I realized the internet bandwidth and connection were subpar. Choosing a different setting, I returned to the coffee shop, finding it to be a suitable spot for both writing and observing the vibrant energy of the local youth. Spending as little time as possible in my room was my preference.
Seeking information, I approached a hotel staff member, who happened to be a family member residing there, to inquire about the closing time of the front door. Regrettably, the man didn’t comprehend my spoken words, prompting me to request paper and a pencil. With these tools, I sketched a basic figure alongside a drawing of a plate of food. Connecting the two, I drew an arrow, then pointed to myself, conveying, ‘that’s me, I’m going for dinner.’
Continuing with my drawings, I depicted the hotel and drew an arrow extending from the food platter to the hotel. Adding a large clock beside it, I marked my painted arrow with a prominent cross. This illustration finally conveyed my question, leading to shared laughter between us. Surprisingly, the Draw It app on my phone proved useful. The man opened his laptop and utilized Google Translate, expressing, ‘You can return anytime.’ While booking this hotel may have been a mistake, I found joy in our amusing miscommunications and the friendly locals in this neighborhood.
Evening at Jalan Panglima Nyak Makam
As dusk settled, I took a leisurely walk to the coffee shop. Numerous individuals were out, offering warm smiles as I passed by. A few even engaged in conversation during my journey to the coffee shop. Some locals along the way extended invitations to join them for a drink, but I politely declined, promising to return later. Trusting these strangers didn’t feel comfortable at all. Reflecting on this, it marked my seventeenth day alone and presented a unique contrast to my experiences in Malaysia. Malaysia seemed more Western, providing a sense of privacy, while here, everyone noticed and acknowledged your presence.
In the coffee shop, I focused on writing articles and observed the locals. For the first 15 minutes, I became a point of interest, with groups of people glancing my way, but soon they returned to their own activities. Opening my laptop, I delved into typing. Occasionally, I glanced around the place. Many young individuals were engrossed in European football, likely the Premier League. Some were engaged in gaming on their laptops, while others enjoyed drinks and cigarettes. It became evident that this was a popular spot for young people to socialize in the alcohol-free Islamic city of Banda Aceh.
A Horrible Night
At approximately 11 pm, I returned to the hotel and started packing my bag. Anxious thoughts crept in as I contemplated spending the night in the unhygienic and unsettling bedroom, complete with bugs, spider webs, and a subpar bathroom. The overall environment made me uneasy, and I began debating whether to venture out and secure a room at the Hermes Hotel—an upscale but costly choice. Despite the expense, I was confident it would offer a clean and comfortable alternative.
Ultimately, I grew frustrated with my constant complaints; I needed to confront my present circumstances. With two months ahead in this country, I acknowledged that accommodations might be more basic and less pristine. I decided to stop complaining and accept the reality that it could be dirtier and less comfortable. The sooner I adapted, the better. I was resolute not to let my high standards jeopardize this world journey. “Face the music and cross this bridge, Maarten,” I told myself.
That night, I hoped for a swift sleep, and fortunately, it came. Disturbed by my unsettling bedroom, reminiscent of a horror movie scene, I opted to use my mosquito net for protection against the bugs near the window. I had previously arranged with the cab driver to pick me up the next morning.
