Indonesia map:
Lost bag, lost journal, lost email addresses
Mar 30, 2002

These older journal entries were hastily typed in at local cybercafes where I was paying by the minute.  Please excuse grammar mistakes or typos. 

After years of traveling the inevitable has happened.  One of my bags was stolen.  I didn't lose much more than my notebook, dive log, swiss army knife and room key.  Unfortunately, the notebook contained everyone email addresses in addition to journal entries and other notes.  If you're happen to be one of the friends that I made over the past 4 months I'd love to hear from you and get your email address once again.


Of course there is a story.  I'm not the type to lose a bag without a story.  After 36 hours of traveling from Palau Weh - by pickup truck, ferry, minibus, bus, taxi and speedboat Michael and I arrive in Penang, Malaysia.  Exhausted we decide to have one beer to celebrate our arrival.  After the beer, Michael is catching a night bus to Kuala Lumpur and I'm looking forward to getting a good night's sleep.  Then, halfway through the beer Evelyn, an Irish girl that I met in Laos, shows up.  Michael, as planned leaves after his beer.  However, after a month sober in Aceh and with an Irishwoman to drink with my plans change quickly - It suddenly seems like a great night for a drinking binge.  By 2am through exhaustion and drunkenness, my usual vigilant watch over my possessions has completely disappeared.  Sometime before then the bag had disappeared. 

Might as well keep drinking.  Around 3am, I momentarily slow my drinking.  I realize that if I can't see the pool table, I probably wouldn't win the game.  Somehow I did manage to win.  Finishing a few games of pool, I return to drinking heavily and then at 5am I find myself outside my hostel.  The doors are locked and no one answers my knocking.  36 hours of traveling and 8 hours of drinking makes the sidewalk seem like a perfectly reasonable place to sleep.  I lay down on the sidewalk for half an hour and then make another attempt at knocking.  This time I manage to wake someone. 

Now inside the hostel I still don't have a key to get into my room.  I scale the wall, slip through the small space between the top of the wall and the ceiling to break into my own room.  Then finally I pass out for a good night's sleep. 

It hurt to lose my journal full of memories, but at least I sacrificed it to a good night of drinking. 

P.S.  The Palau Weh journal entry will be coming soon.  Without the journal, I need to go and rewrite it from scratch.



Comments
ana - Jan 22, 2004

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