MI 213 SOC-SIN
12:40 pm – 3:40 pm
Equip: A319
Reg.: 9V-SBA
Seats: 12B, 12C (Economy)

The ride from amanjiwo back to Solo City was a particularly bumpy one. We pitched and rolled in the back seat up and down the tight mountain roads. Over an hour into it, and almost off the mountain roads, we just had to stop for a break. “No problem, Bapak.” We didn’t need the loo, just a breather to steady our sense of balance. The total ride took about an hour and forty minutes, with traffic only on the fringes of Solo City. We pulled into the airport parking lot and parked near what turned out to be the front door of the terminal, though we couldn’t really see it through the throngs of people intently watching something or other going on inside.

Never did figure out what they were watching. Begging everyone’s pardon and trying not to run over toes with our rollers, we made our way to the entrance. All of our bags went through an x-ray and were treated to some security tape on the locks. It wasn’t hard to figure out where to go inside. The checkin hall, using that term very liberally, was about half the size of the arrivals hall and had a ceiling a good five feet lower. At least, that’s how it seemed. There was a desk for AirAsia on the left, and SilkAir used the two desks on the right. Our two 24” expandables had both been expanded to carry home Java’s bounty, turmeric and all. Together, they weighed in at over 47 kilos, but the agent didn’t collect overweight baggage charges. I blathered about being on a US-bound itinerary and made a point of Mr. Megatop being *Alliance Gold. It probably didn’t make a difference. We were handed boarding passes for 10B and 10C. I didn’t like the sound of that, so requested reseating at a window. The agent assured us they were good seats: the exit row in a two-seat pair with no A seat in the row.

We paid the departure tax in cash at a small desk on the right side of the “hall,” 100,000 rupiah apiece (~$9 each). Then we went through another security checkpoint, the officers at which didn’t care to see the liquids and gels in my carryon. Two young ladies at a small “desk” (two portable tables) immediately inside security took our boarding passes and invited us to sit. A small area of the “gate” had some nicer-looking seats behind a sign reading “Business Class,” but that was the only thing at all remarkable about the place.

The aircraft arrived shortly after we entered the gate holding pen. Turned out, it was the very same aircraft as we’d flown in on seven days earlier. After the incoming pax disembarked, a PA went up inviting pre-boards to come forward. A crush of all passengers promptly ensued. Our BP’s were checked again, cursorily, at the door. Stairs were rolled up to both the front and rear exits of the Airbus, and the agent at the foot of the first flight directed pax to take those stairs or proceed to the rear. We went up the first flight and onboard.

Exit row pax on this aircraft, in rows 10 and 11 (both rows served a single window exit over each wing), were not allowed to put any carryon baggage under the seats, much as you would expect in a bulkhead row. The FA did an in-person Q&A about understanding the emergency exit procedures, much as we get on US domestic carriers. The safety video didn’t go as smoothly. They must have tried ten times to get it to play properly. Ultimately, it did. The door had closed about 15 minutes before STD, but we didn’t push back until right on schedule. Must have been loading bags or waiting for ATC clearance.

Service was good overall but not outstanding. A quick pass through the aisles with newspapers was nice, but would have been nicer if we’d been offered any. Food and beverage service was similar to the inbound flight. I passed, but Mr. Megatop had chicken in a red curry sauce that he thought was good enough.

After descending through some fairly thick cloud cover, we landed to the northeast on the left runway. We taxied past Terminal 1 and toward the nape between the E pier and E gates attached to the main building. Gate E10, I knew, meant a strong possibility of security screening upon arrival. (With the intense procedures at Solo, I wasn’t surprised.) Mr. Megatop knew this well, and when we saw that pax were not being allowed to use the travellators guarded by Singapore security guards, we hustled to overtake as many of those in front of us as possible. It worked. We walked right up to the checkpoint and made it through smoothly with no waiting.

I ducked into the wine shops in T2 for a sniff around, thinking I might find something for Sunday dinner. At the large one, I found a single-vineyard Craggy Range 2007 Chardonnay, a wine I had “discovered” while in New Zealand a year ago. To my great surprise, the clerk wouldn’t let me buy it when I showed an incoming boarding pass stub. “Departures only.” That makes positively no sense. The design of Changi deliberately allows inbound and outbound pax to mix freely on the airside of Immigration and Customs. I hadn’t passed through Customs yet, so why not let me buy it? Irritating.

Immigration was a non-event. In the baggage-claim hall, I went over to the duty free shop (same as upstairs) for arrivals and looked for the wine I’d found upstairs. They had Craggy Range, but only the Sauvignon Blanc, not the Chardonnay. I asked whether it was true that I couldn’t buy upstairs as an inbound pax. “Yes, that’s correct.” I politely expressed my frustration at the nonsense of it all. “Singapore regulations.” “Yes, I understand that. My point is that the regulation makes no sense.” “We just have to follow the rules Customs makes.” “I wanted to buy something that you have upstairs, but not down here, and now I can’t.” “Well, we can go get it for you and bring it down here. What is it, specifically?” I told her, and someone went off to fetch it. Waiting there, I thought long and hard. This “solution” takes nonsense and makes it just plain crazy. I can’t buy upstairs, but I can buy downstairs. I’m not allowed to carry the product downstairs myself, passing only Immigration and not Customs, but the clerks can go upstairs and bring the products down for me, bypassing the Immigration checkpoint. What the hell? Seriously, if someone can explain the rationale for this rule, I’m all ears.

It took a good 15 minutes, but the chardonnay made it downstairs. We’d already collected our bags, so we went through the green channel with nothing to declare, passing Customs officers who seemed completely disinterested in it all. Landside, we turned right and walked the length of the hall (you could fit forty Solo City terminals in here) to the large and completely empty taxi queue. Into a cab and on our way back to the Ritz.