“Welcome to Solo, your hometown” the warmth-welcoming greeting stretched virtually on Adisumarmo Airport. My aero plane touched down, and I tried to remember when the last time I’ve been here. Must’ve been years, my mind reflected date back on October 2002.
Once the aero plane door opened, I can smell the fresh air. Quite contrary with days ago when we landed in Depansar, all hot and humidity taken me aback for couple of minutes. In Solo –which now International Airport as Denpasar- I can even smell my childhood (we lived about 2 kilometer from the Airport, and I used to pedaling my bike here, when I was on primary school)
We off from the plane, walked on Airport Ground. It was amazing, won’t happen in Australia or in Jakarta, where they’ll rush you through the tunnel straight to arrival lounge. Here, we walked so close to the aero plane just like all the ground handling staff, and Rama was over the moon to get this experience. Since he really into aero planes, I’m not wasting my time to shoot some pictures of him, and he posed in every steps he made, pretending we are the owner of the Airport. I can see some passengers smiled at us (or they might laughed at us for took so many photos –as we ‘udik’ or ‘ndeso’-) but I don’t care. That moment was too precious to waste.
Once the aero plane door opened, I can smell the fresh air. Quite contrary with days ago when we landed in Depansar, all hot and humidity taken me aback for couple of minutes. In Solo –which now International Airport as Denpasar- I can even smell my childhood (we lived about 2 kilometer from the Airport, and I used to pedaling my bike here, when I was on primary school)
We off from the plane, walked on Airport Ground. It was amazing, won’t happen in Australia or in Jakarta, where they’ll rush you through the tunnel straight to arrival lounge. Here, we walked so close to the aero plane just like all the ground handling staff, and Rama was over the moon to get this experience. Since he really into aero planes, I’m not wasting my time to shoot some pictures of him, and he posed in every steps he made, pretending we are the owner of the Airport. I can see some passengers smiled at us (or they might laughed at us for took so many photos –as we ‘udik’ or ‘ndeso’-) but I don’t care. That moment was too precious to waste.
Another surprised for Rama is when he saw the baggage handlers, handling and moving the entire luggage’s using their muscle. There no such thing like conveyor belt. Nothing automatic, all man power.
Solo changed so much. Of course, 4 years is not a short time. I saw restaurants in every corner. Yet still, we only travel from Airport to my parent in law home. I might see more if we continue traveling until the other side of Solo.
While my son admiring all the rice fields –which might only a quarter left compare to 4 years ago) or read every single bill board along the way (he read in funny way. Indonesian word with English spelling), I’m busy sent short messages to all my old friend whom decided to spent their rest of their lives in Solo, and got warm welcoming reply.
It’s was really nice to be back in Solo.
(pssst…..I got butterfly in my stomach when the purser announce that we will landed in Solo in like ten minutes…..)
While my son admiring all the rice fields –which might only a quarter left compare to 4 years ago) or read every single bill board along the way (he read in funny way. Indonesian word with English spelling), I’m busy sent short messages to all my old friend whom decided to spent their rest of their lives in Solo, and got warm welcoming reply.
It’s was really nice to be back in Solo.
(pssst…..I got butterfly in my stomach when the purser announce that we will landed in Solo in like ten minutes…..)
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