I have....twice....but not in my own country. And it wasnt really "trouble" trouble where I got in seriously deep shit. But they were incidents that scared me all the same. The reason I wanted to post this story is because on hindsight the events surrounding the incidents were quite hilarious and now that I'm no longer in it, I can laugh about it.

As you all know, I like to share laughter so here's the two stories.

The first one happened a few years ago when I did my trip to Kalimantan (Borneo) to visit the Camp Leakey Orang Utan Rehabilitation Centre.As usual I was on my own and at that stage had not learned to speak Indonesian.

My trip began in Bali, where I had to catch a plane from Bali to Surabaya, Surabaya to Semarang for an overnight stop, then Semarang to Pangkalanbun. These are domestic flights, using the domestic airlines....and if you havent seen or heard about the domestic airlines here in Indonesia, I will tell you they are a joke. The airline company I used is called BORAQ....the name alone was enough to bring such apprehension, I almost didnt go...lol. The planes are old...the pilots (supposedly) are rejects from the International routes or female pilots who will never be put on international routes for some reason...lol

The planes from Bali and Surabaya were okay-ish...they were modern-ish enough that I wasnt too worried...but the one from Semarang to Pangkalanbun had me quaking in my loafers...lol

After an hour or two...(delays are common and almost second nature to them) at the airport in Semarang, the call came to finally walk out to the tarmac to board the plane.

 At first I was okay, I followed everyone out to the tarmac in a neat single file...until I saw the plane we were about to board. Now you have to use your imagination here and picture me, stopping dead on my tracks thinking there is no way I am getting on that plane, while people behind me started (ever so gently) pushing me forward. My toes were trying to grip the tarmac through my shoes, I have to tell you...lol

It was a rickety old plane..I think they are called Casa's but I'm not 100 percent sure...but the thing that got to me was....this old jalopy type truck with two 44 gallon drums of fuel was just about to fuel the aircraft...(why, I thought to myself, would they ask us to board before the plane had been fueled?) and the fuel was hand-pumped (yes, hand pumped) into the plane. And only two drums??....its a long way to Kalimantan from Java, I thought...two drums would surely not be enough. Then I figured there must be at least half a tank of fuel left on the plane so they were just topping up.......that's it......nothing to worry about.

The flight across to Kalimantan was not too turbulent but the landing was very rough. Instead of overhead lockers, this plane just had wooden slats type racks above our heads and people put their hand luggage on these racks. Wooden racks can break, right?  Well, when we landed, the touch down was so rough the wooden racks on one side of the plane actually fell off whatever was holding them up. Thankfully I was on the other side so I didnt  get dumped on with hand luggage and actually managed a nervous laugh about it...much to everyone's disgust. I laugh when I'm nervous, what can I say?? I could have made this story more dramatic by saying I was on the side where the racks fell, but this is not about drama....lol.

(I know its taking a long time to get to the part where I was taken into custody, but please bear with me...I wanted to tell you the whole story).

Anyway I got to my hotel after a very long day travelling and had to make an early start the next morning on my trip to Camp Leakey. So I picked the nicest hotel in town , asked for the nicest room...wont bother describing it here, and managed to have a good night's sleep.

My trip to Camp Leakey was not too bad...used local transport (minus airconditioning) but it was okay. I had to stop at a little village called Kumai to get a permit from an office there to enter into Camp Leakey (which is 6 hours by boat through remote jungle). I arrived in Kumai about 2pm and proceeded to try and find this office where I needed to get the permit.

What I didnt know is, foreigners are supposed to report to the local police station in Kumai to let the authorities know they are in the area. I dont exactly know why, but maybe foreigners might get lost in these jungles and reporting to the police station would be a first step in locating them if they do go missing.

Not knowing this, I didnt make my way to the police station, but they (the police) knew there was a foreigner in town and came out to look for me. Not being able to speak or understand the language..and nobody spoke English there (it's a very small village, this one) I was just a little disturbed that they were carting me back to the police station. I understood they wanted to see my passport but I couldnt understand what they were getting all fired up about.

I handed my passport over, filled out some piece of document with my name and some details but they still wouldnt let me go. I had to wait almost two hours (or was it three...I cant remember but it was late when I finally walked out of there)... for the Police Captain to arrive (he spoke a tiny little bit of broken English) and they actually put me in a cell. They didnt lock the cell door but I had to stay in there just the same. I have to tell you, I was feeling really sick with fear at this stage...those guys looked mean and not one of them ever showed a flicker of a smile in all the time I was in there. 

(next time I go down to Perth I will bring back a photo I had taken with these guys outside the police station when they finally let me go...and I will post the photo here.)

Anyway, the Captain finally arrived and it turns out that I was missing my little arrival card (from immigration) which I thought I would leave in the hotel safe in Bali so that I would not lose it. I didnt think I would need it travelling internally as I've already immigrated into the country. The thing is, you can show them a passport but without that card, it indicates that I might have entered into the country illegally. That's what it was all about and when it was finally sorted out, the Captain (Kapitan) was okay with my explanation about leaving it in a safe in Bali, he asked me to fill out some more forms (goodness knows what it said...all in Indonesian...lol) and I was finally allowed to go.

When I stepped outside the little police station (breathing a sigh of relief), I saw a guy in the garden in front clipping grass with a pair of scissors.....no, I'm not kidding...a pair of scissors....so I showed him my camera and asked him in my very best sign language if he would take a photo. He agreed so I went back inside (like the idiot that I am) and asked a few of the guys in police uniform if they would let me have a photo taken with them.

Thankfully they agreed and so I have a photo to commemorate my little adventure with the police in Kumai......none of them smiled in the photo either by the way...lol

This adventure didnt end here....I have more stories about this little trip but I will post another article on it some other time and when I've got the photos from Perth to show you.

This was my first "run-in" with the law in Indonesia. The other story I will post in the next article as this one turned out much longer than I expected. I hope I can make it shorter than this one...I will try.