The waiting is the hardest part. Catania has given me rain and cold for my final two days. No walking. No exploring. Can’t even dry my last batch of laundry. Damp clothes going to Indonesia. It’s Monday and I’ve been packed since Saturday. Still have lots of food to deal with. Was going to pack it all up and give it to a woman who sometimes panhandles outside the grocery, holding her baby. But the rain has kept her away. Guess I’ll leave it for Giuseppe.
My flight is at 9:40 in the morning (Jan. 17), so I plan to try to get a cab about 7. Hope they’re working then. The first leg on Alitalia takes me to Milan. I have a 3-hour layover there before boarding a Qatar Airways flight to Dohar, the capital of Qatar on the Persian Gulf. That is an almost 6-hour flight. My next flight, also on Qatar, leaves Doha at 1 a.m., which I think would be either midnight or 11 p.m. Sicily time, and 5 or 6 p.m. East Coast U.S. time. Flight time to Singapore’s Changi Airport is 7.5 hours. I arrive in Singapore at 1:30 p.m. Wednesday.
From the airport, I take a taxi across town to the ferry docks. From there, I will be entering a different country (Indonesia) so I will have to go through all the same screening as at the airport. I have to buy a round-trip ferry ticket. Everywhere I go, I have to buy a round-trip ticket. My ticket to Singapore is round-trip. I’ve learned, though, that it’s actually cheaper to buy a round-trip ticket than one-way. I don’t know why.
Once I check my bag and clear security, I’ll have about an hour boat ride to Indonesia. I hope the strait is calm, as I really don’t do well on boats. If possible at the Singapore dock, I’m supposed to SMS Doug, my new boss, to tell him which ferry I will be on (they make the crossing every hour). He plans to meet me at the designated ferry terminal on the Indonesian side (there are several terminals). Of course, the only way I can send him a message is if I can find a Wi-Fi hotspot, or I might ask another expat at the terminal to give him a call. Apparently, I shouldn’t have too much trouble finding an English-speaking expat at the terminal. In case I can’t message Doug, he plans to meet the two ferries he thinks I will most likely be on. I tried to tell him I’ve done this before but he wants to be there to welcome me. It’s only about a mile or so from the Indonesia terminal to Smiling Hill.
Once I arrive in Indonesia, I have to complete an immigration entry card and pay for a 30-day visa ($25). A longer-stay visa will be secured for me later. Interestingly, Doug had told me to NOT list my profession as “journalist.” Apparently, that sends up a red flag in Indonesia. I’m supposed to list myself as an “IT and promotions consultant” coming to work for Smiling Hill.
In retrospect, I have to say my time in Catania was not as fulfilling as I had hoped. The weather kind of hampered my ability to explore other towns. I’m glad, however, that I was able to complete the circle for my mother, whose father came from Sicily. Finding relatives, though, would have been impossible in the short time frame I had here; plus, the family name is Ricci, which is very common here. But I made it, mama! If she’s watching, she’s smiling.
And Rome was awesome!
The one regret I do have about moving to Indonesia, hopefully for a long time, is that I planned to visit the U.S. after my Greece trip, which is, of course, on hold indefinitely. It will now be somewhat longer before I can see my daughter and granddaughter in Asheville.
On to Indonesia. And aren’t I glad I kept a lot of my clothes from Costa Rica? Back to t-shirts, shorts and sandals, baby!
