Transport or transportation;
Is the movement of people and goods from one place to another. The term is derived from the Latin trans ("across") and portare ("to carry"). Industries which have the business of providing transport equipment, transport services or transport are important in most national economies, and are referred to as transport industries.
The field can be divided into infrastructure, vehicles, and operations.
Infrastructure consists of the fixed installations necessary for transport, and may be roads, railways, airways, waterways, canals and pipelines or terminals such as airports, railway stations, bus stations and seaports. Vehicles traveling on the network include automobiles, bicycles, buses, trains, people and aircraft.
Operations deal with the way the vehicles are operated, and the procedures set for this purpose including the financing, legalities and policies.
Indonesia does not have a transport industry. Indonesia has none of the above except for the transport vehicle called people. The Republic of Indonesia, in 2006 in fact, had approximately 222 million people. It is now 2008, so with my calclations Indonesia's population is somewhere around 894 Trillion, give or take a handful. My calculations are based apon how many people I saw here with children. Here, children have children. Children are newly awarded grandparents at the age of 9. My calculations have also led me to beleive that women here get pregnant by getting looked at. I say this so that you may be aware why I have gouged out my eyeballs next time we meet. I'll be okay, if Julio San-Chen can drive drunk he can surely guide me around; my seeing-eye monkey. Except I always seem to be led to liquor stores and prostitutes. He's got some addictions. With women (children) here having so many children (slightly younger children) it is my assumption that women (children) in Indonesia have a gestation period of 13 minutes. Exact calculations on this will be forthcoming. Futhermore, people here never die. Ever. On our way to the internet place, Jennie and I came across a woman (zombie) who, by my best guesstimate, was in the vicinity of 1000 years old. Poor thing looked to be having a mid-life crisis. This, my faithful readers, is why the population is so high.
The plane leaving Bangkok at 3 a.m. was fast, arrived early, and was generally a pleasant ride. I sat an entire seat away from Jennie so that she couldn't hurt me when we took off. This fight does fall under the category of transportation, obviously, but for Thailand, not Indonesia. Indonesia is a bumblefuck of transport. A superbly unorchestrated mash. The bus from the airport "that arrives every half hour" arrived one hour after we began waiting for it to show. The bus that "takes one hour to get to Gambir train sation" pulled in after 2 hours. The train station itself was a mess of humans. People here just walk, no particular direction or purpose and every single local in Jakarta, Indonesia felt it necessary to stare at us. Usually at the things rested on Jennie's chest. Some who weren't awe struck were very pleasant and usually cheered on by their friends to come strike up a simple conversation to practice their english.
Our train was to leave at 21:15 and I can't express how absolutely brutal it is to wait for your train from 11:15 until 21:15 in this particular country; city; train station. My only "entertainment" was a local gentleman who came into the toilet area (washroom is different) and realized that all sinks were currently being used. Instead of waiting, or even just walking out without washing (gross under normal circumstances) stepped up beside me (when 9 other spots on either side of me remained open) and commenced the washing of his hands in the urinal. "Entertainment."
Out of 894 Trillion people, I would assume that a few of them, 'possibree' the people running the transportation system, would know how to tell the time. Understandably, if you're having a baby every 13 minutes you might be busy too. Our train finally departed at 21:35 and we were on our way to Yogyakarta or Jogjakarta or Jogja or Yogy or whatever of the one thousand different names they have for it. We were to arrive at 04:38, quite a specific time of arrival so one would assume that they had their shit together. Very wrong. Like two and a half hours wrong.
Not having showered since the night before our flight I felt, for the second time this trip, like I'd been the urinal of 97 stray cats (because house hold cat pee is better.) We slung our belongings over our shoulders, adjusted the straps and began marching. With no shower or sleep in almost 2 days of travel, we just wanted to find a guest house quickly. Every person we asked pointed in a different direction, and I'm sure if we asked them the time they'd also all say something different. Jennie kept a happy face and I kept searching for someone to punch, and just as I swore it was going to be the next person to ask me for my money we found a place. Full. Full. Full. My blood pressure was rising and a vein, inherited from my dad, popped out of my forehead.
My tantrum was averted and we were able to find a shower and a bed, not the first 73 we looked at but we did find one. We showered, napped and were excited to begin our Indonesian adventure only to realize it was a holiday. Everything is closed for the next 4 days. Fantastico.