Notes from dyary. To Bali trough China

Hi everybody! Всем привет! Hola a todos! Bonjour à tous! Hallo allerseits! Поздрав свима!

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Notes from dyary. To Bali trough China





"Any trip is a holiday that will forever remain in your memory" — someone

Bali always seemed to me like a luxurious coastline, like the one in the picture above — infinity pools, lush villas, and women in bikinis gazing at endless green jungles. Naturally, such premium experiences wouldn’t cost the same as a comon trip. So, we prepared thoroughly. For a year, we put money in an old TV box... :-)

As vacation time approached, ticket prices stayed high. The worst offender was our forever-young "A**flot" airlines.
(Side note: I had been monitoring prices for about six months)

Right before our trip, we found a flight from M to Beijing for just 190 round trip. We booked it immediately. The next "teleport window" was a China Southern Airlines flight from Beijing to Shenzhen and to Denpasar for 130. The price seemed too good to be true — which, of course, meant hidden pitfalls.

For example, the layover between the A***flot and China Southern flights was only three hours. Some forums said this was enough time. Others weren’t so optimistic.

We needed to clarify the visa and transit rules. Finding the information was tedious. The forum had all the answers, but they were buried under irrelevant chatter. Separating useful tips from the noise was tough.

Here’s what helped: people advised printing hotel bookings in Beijing and connecting flight tickets in English and Chinese. This advice was a lifesaver. At the airport, I saw travelers relying on smartphones struggle with loading issues, dead batteries, or no Wi-Fi. Meanwhile, we pulled out our printed "credentials" and breezed through to the next checkpoint.

One thing I couldn’t figure out from the forums was whether we could check in for the connecting flight without leaving the transit zone. Some said they weren’t allowed into the city and were sent to the waiting lounge instead. That sounded fine to us. But things turned out differently.

The first time our printed tickets came in handy was at Sh***vo Airport during check-in. Transit registration for flights without visas is different, so keep that in mind!

After landing, we rushed toward the "Transfer" signs. We arrived at the China Southern desk in the transit zone, where a polite gentleman greeted us. His English was decent. We showed him our itineraries, and he told us to go downstairs to the border control counters to get a permit. He also mentioned picking up luggage.

I explained we had no checked luggage. He nodded and said, "Still, go downstairs."

We ran to the counters, grabbed the wrong blue form in our haste, filled it out, and joined the line to cross the border. Most passengers had visas, but a few transit travelers like us stood around, confused.

The closed transit counter window threw everyone off. After a moment, I realized we needed a transit sticker first. I caught a "helper girl" walking by and asked her what to do. She didn’t speak English, so she used a translation app, but it was gibberish.

We might have waited forever if not for a kind Chinese lady who said in broken but clear English: "You not stand this counter. Take other blue paper, stand closed counter. I tell staff to open window."

We followed her advice, told the people in line, "I’ll be back," and ran to the right counter. Finally, it all made sense. The blue form was the transit paper I had read about, and the counter labeled "Permit" was the one we needed.

As we filled out the forms, a large group of young athletes arrived. Their coach loudly explained how to fill out the transit form. This woke up the other transit passengers, who started asking us questions.

We hurried, knowing delays could cost us. Despite our confusion, we cleared the border in 45 minutes. Judging by forum reports, that’s a great result.

Once through customs, we headed to the departures hall. Then I noticed something off about my companion.

"Madam," I asked, "where’s your carry-on bag?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I left it at customs!" and dashed back downstairs.

So, we checked in for our China Southern flight, went through security again, exchanged the last of our Hong Kong and Macau currency out of boredom, and casually boarded the South China plane. By the way, a week before all of this, I managed to wrestle with their website, successfully register for good seats, and even pick some fun meal options.

I liked China Southern Airlines better than regular Chinese Airlines. Everything with them feels fresh: new planes, new seat monitors, spotless seat covers... even the flight attendants seemed brand-new, like they’d just popped out of a 3D printer. A whole group of them surrounded us, purring something softly in pure Chinese. Of course, not a single word of English. Eventually, they managed to communicate that the seafood meals we pre-ordered were available and would be served after takeoff.

We had just settled into our seats when the flight attendants came running back, holding up a smartphone. On the screen, it read, "Sir, did you lose a front-facing suitcase?" A front-facing suitcase? What the hell is that? I asked my neighbor, "Madam, did you lose your carry-on bag?" She jumped, turned red, and muttered, "Oh, for heaven's sake... We just shoved it onto the overhead shelf! Don’t scare people like that! I was already about to run back to customs..."

In Shenzhen, we thought we’d just be transferred to another plane within the transit zone. Either we got the wrong gate, or that wasn’t an option. So, we had to repeat the whole process: check-in, personal and luggage screening. Chinese security is... unique. All passengers are delicately frisked by young, attractive women. It left quite an impression! For some reason, I felt like going through security again...

Then it was back to customs and border control.

I just can’t get used to the quirks of Chinese airports, like their internal metro systems. In Shenzhen, we ended up confused at the dead-end of a station. Thankfully, an airport employee stepped in and calmly guided us.

We landed in Denpasar at 12:15 AM. Emerging from the plane like the yellow-jersey leader in a cycling race, we expected a quick trip through the checkpoints of an empty airport. But then, out of nowhere, a grumpy security guard stopped us, demanding a QR code with our health information.

An idea came to mind: just ignore the guy, sneak past him, and slip behind the rope, hiding behind a column while he fumbled with other passengers. But the lady who keeps losing her luggage suddenly declared, "We have to do everything by the book." Of course, we did.

We fumbled with Wi-Fi and poked at our phones, trying to pull up the code. Meanwhile, two flights from Australia landed. The grumpy guard was quickly swept away by a wave — the Australians just ignored him and the QR code entirely. What?! You can do that?!

It became clear later that Bali is full of such clownish security guards. Avoiding them isn’t just possible; it’s highly recommended.

Thanks to the cranky old man waking up at the worst possible moment, we lost precious time and got stuck in the visa payment line. Nearby, a counter stood empty while a guy shooed away tourists like flies, only serving families with kids. That’s when the lady with the lost luggage redeemed herself. She slipped around the guy and paid for the visa anyway. Yep, if you’re not supposed to, but you really want to, you can! Feels familiar somehow.

That,s all for today.
Stand by













Sincerely yours

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