Sunday morning

It was about nine o'clock this morning that I left the guys and went fo a post-brekkie swim. It was the hottest it has been so far. Must have hit 25 degrees at least by 9 am. Unfortunately at half nine, all the local kids take over the pool, so I escaped to the bar overlooking to stop myself from burning to death and to fire off some emails in relative comfort. Spent yesterday trawling around bars and 'fishbowls'. Fishbowls were a fucking odd experience, and it was difficult to whom it refers, the customers or the girls. You got into a room, and on the other side of the glass was, basically, the meat. It was just a load of girls all sat around looking pretty much uninterested in the whole process, except for the opportunity to stare at a collection of bules looking with horror at what was obviously not the establishment's A-squad. It felt more like we were the ones in the fishbowl, staring into a collection of wide, incredulous eyes, being scrutinised in case we did something fascinating. Admittedly, Tony did fart, but at least no bubbles came out of his arse. The bars were actually pretty mundane, just like the UK in many respects, except you see more asian customers in the UK. Football on the large telly, drunk white men leching over the bar staff, and overpriced beer. Just like home.
Just realised the major downside of the pool here. There is no sun, apart from on the pool itself. Don't know if you can tell from the photo, but all the seating is shaded, even the jacuzzi. Although I think that I would fry in this sun. We're only 1 degree north of the equator here, so it can be pretty warm. I dread to think what it is like in te direct sunlight, and it isn't even 11am yet.
Last night the guys went to a place I think iscalled Malam, but has been nicknamed 'the rehab centre'. Batam police clean up the hooker districts every so often, and arrest all the working girls, sentencing them with 3-6 months at a rehabilitation complex. The upshot of this is that there is a police-run encampment, a working village of bars and hookers. From the sound of it, I'm glad I skipped it, but I bet it was an experience. The guys got back around 2am, and when they went to the ferry this morning, they had lost one of their number. When they called him at his hotel, fifteen minutes before his 9am ferry, apparently he sounded pissed out of his head, so he might not be going home today.
This place gets more surreal every hour, turns out one of the guys who trailed down to the rehab last night is a famous aussie comedian, a sort of oz roy chubby brown. Pass me the tablets!

Peace out