Ah, here we go. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told this story. My mates seem to love it.

A bit of history first. I met Crazy Indo Doris, as usual, in some bar in Wanchai. Saw her on and off for a few months, then one Thursday morning at 5am I get a call from her. She’s been arrested for overstaying her visa by 5 days. She’s in Victoria Prison. Can I help her? How!?! Long story short, she’s getting deported as soon as she can pay for her ticket. Not sure if that’s bollox, but anyway, I ended up footing the bill. I also went up there to visit her in prison. Went to the prison first to see what I was allowed to take her. Got a long precise list of things in precise sizes. For example: 75ml of Colgate toothpaste, white towel (with precise measurements - I had to buy a ruler and scissors to trim it to size), specific panty liners, white underwear (it specified non-sexy) etc etc. I head to the prison and everything is inspected. I got 100ml of toothpaste by accident so I wasn’t allowed to take that in. Eh!? Let me squeeze some out then! Wrong pantyliners too.

Anyway, she gets deported and we converse by SMS for a while. Easter 2002 I plan a trip to the Phils for some diving with mates and then the day after I come back I decide to go to Indonesia. I planned to go to Semarang, Yogya and Bali for a week. That was all I planned. Semarang cos I fancied seeing the old Dutch colonial buildings, Yogya as I read it is one of the foremost cultural centres of Java. Bali for some relaxation. My mistake was to tell Doris that I was going to Semarang, and the date. I had no idea where she lived, I had no idea about Indonesia at all really, it was going to be a little adventure.

So I arrive in Jakarta, get ripped off at the airport by some geezer who I thought was an official. He had all the ID and everything around his neck. He said he’d help me through security. I said I was OK and didn’t need his help, but he just followed me and then joined me in the caf√©. There were about 10 no smoking signs that everyone was totally ignoring. For some reason I love the smell of the cigarettes they all seem to smoke. He then gave me the old ‘my wife is ill’ story. I ended up giving him about USD $20 just to go away, but it totally pissed me off. I’m normally on the ball, but it wouldn’t be the first time on this trip when I’d forget my senses.

Travel Garuda for the first time, shitting myself after reading about their safety record and the fact that we were flying through a big electrical storm. Despite that, I arrive safely at Semarang, walk through arrivals and walk straight into Doris. WTF?! There she is with her brother and uncle and a big van. They’d travelled for 2 hours to come and meet me. I really should have done my research on her home. They said they’d come to help me find a hotel. I’ve, er, got one. Well she said it, her relatives didn’t speak English. They took me to the hotel and then for a meal. The meal was awful, the first of many, and I asked if it was a Karaoke place, but no, it was the house band. Doris decides she’s staying with me, and her family leave, but promise to return to take me to Yogya. It’s OK, I say, but they insist. God, what have I got myself into.

Well, didn’t actually get to see much of Semarang, we, er, just stayed in the hotel.

Two days after I arrived, we head to Yogya. In that van. With no air-con. With her brother, his wife and screaming 7 month old baby. Joy. We stop off at Borobudur, or “Mountain of accumulation of merits of the ten states of Bodhisattva”, which was amazing, apart from the hordes of hawkers trying to get you to buy elephants. I refused all attempts and was called a “tight arsed Londo” by some geezer, so in front of him went to buy an elephant off someone else. He didn’t like that so we left sharpish.

Here are some very bad pictures:

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So we head to Yogya and look for a hotel. They want me to get a cheap place and take me round the bloody USD10 a night places, ignoring my requests for a 5 star place. These places were awful and I put my foot down. Ended up at the Melia Purosani, which I remember being quite OK. [Remember I said she changed her name, face and hair to get back into HK? Her new name was Meliani Purosani] The family leave us for a while, but praise the Lord, they said they’d be back to take me to dinner. We walk up to a place with a horrible aroma outside and go in. I’m looking around thinking WTF. Even more WTF when they don’t offer us a menu and just bring out everything they have. We eat, they count what we’ve eaten and take away the dishes and put them back on the shelves. I then get the bill for what we ate. Hold on, has that stuff been there all day, with everyone picking over it?!

We lose the family and I say I want to go on one of those sort of rickshaw things, geezer on a bike pulling us along in the chair behind him. We go on a nice tour of I don’t know what. The next day her brother turns up again and I’ve had enough. Right, I’m off to Bali I say, do you want to come or not? We get tickets and I book a hotel and we head to Bali. First day or so are quiet, nice food and sitting by the pool. She’s not drinking and not eating pork and being very sensible. I’m surprised, she’s normally a crazyass! Things change on Saturday.

We go out for a meal, no alcohol for her. We then go to the Sari Club, where they ask me to pay for her to get in. “Eh?” I say as three white girls go waltzing in. “She’s a local, you need to pay.” “She’s not local, she’s from Hong Kong” I say. “Prove it, let us see your HK ID.” Doris lifts her t-shirt, gets one of her carpets out and says “Here’s my ID”. “Er, right, how much?” WTF Doris!!?!?!?!?

We go in and have a few drinks, yes, she’s decided to drink now, but it’s so hot, so we head over to the Hard Rock Caf√©. She’s the only Asian in there (excluding staff). We sit and have a drink. I go to the loo and when I come back there is half a bottle of tequila on the table. “I thought we’d do some tequila shots!”, “Some!? That’s half a bottle!” Anyway, we finish off the bottle. I’m shitted, so I guess she should be too, but she’s good at holding her drink. Or she was. It hit her. She’s off dancing in the middle of all the lardy Aussie girls, dancing like a lap-dancer, pulling her jeans off, showing off her aris. All the male staff kept coming over to me saying “Your girlfriend is crazy!”. Yes, I fucking know.

She goes to the toilet, and when she comes out, a group of local boys stop her and start pushing her between them and feeling her tits and ass. I’m about to wade in, they’re all skinny little blokes, but then I remember this is not my manor, as they say, and turn to the security staff for help, they just ignore me. So I go over and grab her, giving them all the Shaky Stare. I lose my grip on her and she goes over and grabs a microphone and starts singing into it. It worked, her drunken song declaring her love for me was heard by everyone. I grab the mic off her and she kicks over a speaker. Time to leave my son. We walk outside and she kicks over a table full of drinks. I get my wallet out.

She says she wants to go to a club. I say no, we are going home. None of the taxi drivers would take us. One guy eventually says he’ll take us for IDR 100,000. It’s normally 10,000, but it’s the only way I’m getting her home. About two mins into the journey she throws up. Cabbie didn’t see, so I opened the window and stuck her head out. She spends 10 mins throwing up out of the window so when we get to the hotel, the side of the cab is covered in puke. I hand over the 100,000 and get the beckon for more and a point to the puke. 100,000, another 100,000 and a beckon for more. I tell him to fuck right off.

I help her through the hotel, where all the honeymooner’s and retiree’s are enjoying their evening drinks. Righto, she’s a little drunk I say as she throws up on the floor. I get her back to the room and lay her on the bed. I go to the loo and come back and she’s naked. I decide I’ll put her in the bath [not work safe, and yes yes, I shouldn’t have taken a picture!] and try to clean her up. Spray her with cold water for a while, then get her up to dry her off. She starts throwing up again so I put her head in the sink, trying to keep her hair out of the puke. We’re there for a few minutes and I start thinking to myself “Jeez, your puke stinks of shit”. Ya, she’s shat herself, all over my shorts, legs and sandals. Oh my God. She stops puking and I take her and place her, bum up, on the pristine white sheets. Grab some toilet tissue and wipe her aris and legs and then go to the shower to clean myself up. That’s when I heard a huge bang. She’d rolled off the bed and knocked herself out. First Aid training comes in handy and I put her in the recovery position, check her airway and tongue and start thinking I should call an ambulance. Then she starts throwing up black stuff. She comes round and says one word “Hospital”. Too right Doris. I’m on the phone to reception, they put me through to the hospital. It’s in Denpasar. Great. They won’t send an ambulance and they say I should get a taxi. Thanks. Order a taxi explaining the situation. So now I have to get her dressed. Where the fook are those clothes you just took off Doris? I can’t find them anywhere. I couldn’t find any clothes, they were in the laundry. All I could find was a black g-string and purple negligee. Great. So I get her ‘dressed’ and hoist her up over my shoulder for the walk back through the hotel. Half way down the stairs, she throws up down my back. So there I am, tottering through the hotel, with shit on my shorts, puke down my back, and a half naked comatose woman on my shoulder. Talk about a walk of shame.

The cabbie was brilliant. He’d come all prepared with towels and we got there in about 20 mins. Fare was about 50,000 I think, but I gave him 200,000 for being a legend. He even hung around to see if I needed anymore help. Get her into the hospital and was dismayed to see all the staff were female and giving me dirty looks. Yeah, “look at the Londo getting the girl drunk so he can take advantage”. I explain what has happened, and I say I’m convinced she’s been drugged. She could always handle her drink, and it was just a quarter of a bottle of tequila. They pump her stomach and put her on a drip that knocks her out. I ask how long it will be. They say about 7 hours. OK, where can I get a taxi? Get this, they just ignored me! So I went to look for a taxi. Nothing. Now remember I’m pretty drunk too, so I lay down on the floor and passed out. Woken a few hours later by a dog licking the shit off my shorts. I think this may have been the lowest point in my life.

Wander back in and Doris has roused and spouting off in English and saying she loves me. The nurse tells me to go upstairs and buy some water. Eh? So I get some water and sit there making her drink water for an hour or so. Then they decide she can go home, but first I need to go to the pharmacy to get some drugs for her and pay for the treatment. That done, they order us a taxi. She dry retches all the way back to the hotel. It’s 7am now and I put her into bed and collapse. The phone rings. “Hello sir. Remember the questionnaire you filled in? Well you’ve won first prize in our draw. An all expenses paid trip to any Peninsular hotel in the world” Bollox I think, I never win anything. They say they need to send a car and take me to the Peninsula Beach Resort. I ask for a name and number to call them back. I do so, but still, I’m thinking it’s a wind up. Still, I think why not, might be an adventure, I was probably still drunk. I check my guide book. No Peninsula Beach Resort in there, so I decide I’m going to call back and blow them out, but Doris wants to go. I decide that we’ll go down to the car, if the guys look dodgy, then I’ll say I’m not going. We go down and a small skinny guy in a suit and hat is stood there. Ah, looks OK to me. We get in the car and he gets in the passenger seat. An axe murderer with long hair and tattoos gets in the driver’s seat. Oh God. What have I done? You stupid stupid boy. They seem friendly though and she’s chatting away to them, obviously telling them about last night and she needs some medicine to rub on her stomach. Yeah, that will make it better dear. We stop at a ‘pharmacy’ she goes to get her ‘medicine’ and I ask them how long the Peninsula Beach Resort has been open. 7 months they say. Ah, my book is 18 months old. How far is it? Bloody miles away, that’s how far. I’m thinking they are taking us somewhere quiet to knock us off and nick my wallet, so I surreptitiously take all my cards and ID out of my wallet leaving only the cash. Then, we are saved, I see a sign advertising the ‘new’ Peninsula Beach Resort. We arrive and get taken inside for some more questions. Are you married? No. Are you living together? No. Do you both speak English? Kinda. Well sorry you are not eligible for the prize. You fucking what?! Why didn’t they tell me that on the phone?! Could have saved us all the trouble and my heart pressure would be a lot better! We got a couple of t-shirts for our trouble. Doris was so pissed off. Why didn’t you lie!? Hmmm, yeah, didn’t think of that actually. I’ve since read that it’s a standard high pressure timeshare scam.

So we get back to the hotel and Doris is getting a bit fruity. Please, you shat all over me last night, get off me. And that was that. The next day we headed back to Yogya. I gave her all my left over cash, a couple of million IDR, with which she bought a washing machine for the family, a new fake passport and had her facial tattoos removed! Honestly, they were not that bad.

Oh, I forgot this. I ordered chicken at a food stall in Yogya and got this: