Unforgettable

Walking back to my room after breakfast, four young men jump up from their makeshift seats at the side of the road, holding out laminated signs and urging me to book a tour. I signal no, and there is a sense of quiet dejection. Desperation perhaps. There are virtually no guests in Amed these days, and those of us who are left are clustered around mobile phones and iPads, watching this thing play out in our home countries, worrying about inserting ourselves into the most dangerous place to be right now…on an airplane.

My flight is still scheduled to depart early Friday morning. I will know for sure at 00:45 Wednesday when I attempt to check in with Garuda International. I was quite concerned about the Tokyo to Montreal leg given yesterday’s border closure in Canada, but it looks like the flight is close to full. Time will tell if this works out.

Sitting here in 30+ temperatures, in virtual isolation due to the lack of guests, I feel fortunate. Of course, it could be a fool’s paradise given that there doesn’t appear to be much testing going on in Indonesia. I see more masks now than a few days ago, but still not many. I have a supply for the journey…mostly to help others feel safer around me.

Had a long chat with the young man who cleans my room yesterday. He says that hotels all along Amed Road are closing, throwing people out of work. So far, he has a job, and I know he is worried that that will change.

I always thought that a trip to Indonesia would be unforgettable. I was right.