After 36 straight hours of travel there is nothing like taking off your socks, spreading your toes and sighing. Like the changing of the seaons or aging, air travel heralds change whether or not one is ready. Stepping out of the Soekarno-Hatta airport we were hit with simultaneous walls of humidity, jet lag and people. Lots of people. And lots of people on motorbikes. Unbelievable numbers of them.
Kian’s wonderful friend Nelly was there to pick us up and we spent the day being ferried around Jakarta in air-conditioned comfort by her driver Nugroho. How surreal to be behind tinted windows with gentle piano music playing as the tumult of city life played out around us – makeshift buses, street vendors pushing carts across four-lane highways, street kids sitting on the curb knocking each other around.
Well more posting later. Gunawan, our first bird farmer and an active member of the Perkutut associaton, is sending a driver to pick us up in twenty minutes and I need to put on new socks.
Perkutut 