Three forlorn children’s faces are pressed up against the window at the departure gate. They are staring intently at the vacant skybridge – plane-less and void of life.
Air Asia. Pretty much living up to my expectations already.
An hour later, the bright red plane rolls up to a different departure gate and we amble there, dragging our little wheely bags.
On board we master the art of plane seatbelt. Master 8 manages to twist his into a mess and proclaims it done.
We then discuss the suspicious looking menu. “Why is the (inner sole looking) ‘uncle Chin’s chicken rice’ twice the price flying from Australia as it is out of Indonesia?” questions the scowling conspiracy detective Miss 10. “Why indeed…” I reply, avoiding the un-vacation friendly topic of world commerce.
The food trolley arrives and instead of chicken rice and chicken sandwich, we end up with nasi lemak, soggy beef sandwiches and oreos.
I offer the nasi to the kids. Master 8 gives it the hell no stare and Miss 10, eager to escape the sandwich gives it a go. I give her a huge spoonful to try (mostly for my entertainment as she detests strong flavours).
“Is this what the food tastes like in Bali?!?!?” she demands to know. “Pretty much” I reply. “YES!!” She fist pumps the air and slides the nasi over to her tray… and distastefully shoves her sandwich in my direction.
In shock I watch our family ‘food bogan’ tuck into the hot/sour/spicy fare. Perhaps Indonesia will be more of a family culinary adventure than what I’m expecting 🙂
An hour later and Master 8 is air sick. I buy him a coke and more oreos. Feeling parental guilt for not buying her anything, I offer his half drunk coke to Miss 10, who takes a swig then spits out a chunk of Oreo. “REALLY?!?!” she splutters and mutters something about how disgusting our family is. Not the type of culinary adventure I was thinking of….