55 kms and a mad ocean of rush hour traffic separate Karawang and downtown Jakarta.
I ended up stranded in Karawang after missing my train. Went there with the assumption of a bustling train station just as found in any of Jakarta’s satellite cities, only to find out that Karawang station closes its service at 5 p.m., as would a good office worker. Its last Jakarta-bound train apparently departs at 2.30 p.m. The small town, where Indonesia’s declaration of independence was drafted, has not enjoyed ride-hiring services such as Uber or Go-Jek. Not even taxi. The only option for private transport back to Jakarta is Grab, but with no cars willing to take my order, I had to settle for ojek.
This is after a long day of full-on event in a topic I have close to no expertise in; zero hour of sleep the previous night and solely surviving on caffeine; having skipped dinner and breakfast; topped by an addling dollop of fever and flu combo.
Thus, it was two and a half hour on a motorbike. Ass-cheeks-on-fire notwithstanding, sailing through those small town streets felt strangely contemplative and blissful.
The driver’s swerves were smooth while his grip very firm… on the handlebars! Poor man, he had to make the long, arduous trip back. Thank goodness he was not as Mudi as his name indicates 😉