The surfing detective

Now you shall hear how I went from happy surfers to detective during the course of a few hours in Indonesia. It's a pretty long story so it'll be an equally long post but we run.

I arrived in Bali a few weeks ago and not much has happened welling up until now. Bali is a rather overdeveloped destinations. There are tourists in quantities and not much charm, so I went away pretty quickly eastward. East of Bali is another island called Lombok. This island has nowhere near the same mass tourism like Bali and is in my eyes a much better option. In southern Lombok lies a town called Kuta and it is an incredibly beautiful and relaxing place. Activities here involve browsing, Kite-surfning, diving and general beach face-off. The waves are great for surfing, and there are all levels from beginners to professionals. You do not have to queue up in the water but it is pretty empty of people, which is very nice. Anyway, how did I then from surfers to detective.

I spent about a week in Kuta, Lombok and every morning at 8 am for breakfast man jumped on his moped with surfboard in a rack mounted on the side and drove to any surf spot. There is no surfing within walking distance of Kuta so you have to run but there's no problem. You can rent mopeds with Holder dash all over the place. One morning, I went as usual to surf at one of my favorite beaches. On the way there, so I suddenly see a young Indonesian guy sitting on his haunches beside the road and he was waving to me. I stop and he asks if he can get a ride. He is around the age of 20 years. I say I'm going to Selong Belanak (one of the beaches you can surf the) and there he also wants. I say it is fine, he jumps on the moped and we drive for about 30 minutes all the way to the beach and he jumps off the same place as me and thanks for the ride. Selong Belanak is a very beautiful beach, a long beach with clear blue water and white-sand. Such a man shooting when to push postcard.
Selong Belanak

Nice huh? This beach is fairly untouched. There are some small bamboo huts along the beach where you can sit in the shade and next to these is a small temporary restaurant where a nice lady serving fried noodles with chicken at all hungry surfers. When I come to the beach, I always have with me my backpack with some stuff that I usually put in one of the bamboo huts right next to the restaurant so that sensible people have watched it every now and then. In this case do I always have my phone and my wallet because I have a small lock on the zipper that requires a number combination to bring up the. There is no swelling fort knox but it's better than nothing. One can also add that the people in this part of the island exudes an attitude and a way that makes you not worry that things will disappear. Tourists are basically the only source of income here and most of them get their living bread from us, if we would get a bad experience in Lombok, we will not back plus it is actually an island, so it's hard to hide. Anyway, on the beach, I meet two Germans who are also there to surf. They note my lock on the bag and ask if they can place their two purses in my bag instead of leaving them in their bags unlocked. So in the outer compartment of my bag, I place 3 wallets and my cell phone. Let's get down to the water and surf in perhaps 1.5 hours and when I come back to the bag to see it still untouched out. It is completely intact but when I hang up the bag so to my surprise, the two Germans' wallets and my cell phone missing. Oddly enough, my wallet is still in place. At first I get a bit confused because the bag was still locked and untouched. I asked the Germans if they have been inside and poked but they had not ,I had not even told the combination of them. I realize pretty quickly that the guy I drove there has something with this to do but he is obviously missing. I ask around with the locals there, but no one has seen anything of value, it had however noticed that the guy I gave a ride sat very close to my bag for a while but there was no one who knew him. He was probably from some other part of the island.

Priority one is now to get hold of an internet. I myself have a really good spyware on my phone that makes it possible to trace the. However this must be enabled, and I still need a computer with internet access to. Just at this beach, there is not much to the civilization and the fewer internet connections but I managed to get hold of a small guesthouse where I had to borrow a laptop with connectivity. I turned my spyware but it was silent as the grave. The little spark of hope to regain phone died out slowly. In order to get any information from the spyware, the phone must be switched on and have internet contact. I suspect that they probably have turned off the phone, or there is simply no reception where it is now. I say to the Germans that we will probably never get to see either the phone or wallets but block all cards and police reports, maybe you can get something out of insurance. Depressed go home in the afternoon and the next day the Germans leave Indonesia to go home again. No idea to book a few flights when it seemed quite hopeless.
I still continued to watch for a few days after reports without any great expectations but suddenly at around 5 the afternoon arrives suddenly in 5 Each reports by phone. It then works so that every two minutes a report is sent from the phone where you can get a camera image and a position from The GPS. The picture is taken directly without any regard to the angle of the phone lying on a table with the screen down or in a pocket so it just becomes a black image. I have my reports now 5 Images which 4 is completely black but one of them is brilliant in the face of the person holding the phone.

I also have a location on your phone that now seems to be in a town about 45 minutes north of Kuta called Praya. Excellent, I think, Banks quickly assembled my computer, runs to the moped and drive straight to the police station. I explain to them that I have a position and a picture of a person who currently has my stolen phone. Local Police in Kuta can not help me much because the phone is pretty far away in another district but they keep giving me directions to the police station in Praya. I drive there, it takes approximately 45 minutes. I arrive at the police station, I received information in Kuta but they can not help me, it is firstly difficult to find someone who can speak English but after having managed to communicate my problem, I get a police escort to the big police station in Praya. Finally arrived, I found out that the chief of police are good at English so he can come in and help. The police chief is unfortunately in the mosque and pray, the story should be added that during this time in Indonesia it was Ramadan is a Muslim holiday that involves fasting for a month and pray more often than usual. Indonesia consists 88% of Muslims, so it is not at all surprising, I sit and await the friendly police chief. After about an hour he'll pop up. I already have a small group of police officers around me. I think I have managed to convey the vesäntliga in history to them because they seem very impressed by my ability to track the phone. I sit in a simple room with my laptop on a wooden table with a bunch of cops around me trying to get an insight into what I'm doing. Police Chief storms in with some of their peers in heels. He's got a quick and vague brief of their kolegor and now he wants to hear the whole story. I explain the whole event for him and that I have a position and a picture of the person who has my mobile right now. It's been a wise time since I received the first report from the phone that I am now sitting in the police station and the current location of the phone has now been changed, that person has moved. The police chief seems fascinated by my ability to be able to track the villain so he gives the command to me. There is not much else going on this particular evening so suddenly I'm sitting with a whole staff of about 20 police officers under my orders via police chief. I give the pictures from the report to the police and ask them to print a few copies on A4 paper. I realize that we have two locations to visit, the first location where the picture was taken and the latest position right now seems to be near the airport. Police chief gives me a cell phone with his own number and storms out with all his men. I am now free to send police after their own orders which I think fits. So I tell them on the phone that we should send a car to the location where the picture was taken and see if there are any witnesses, the rest of the police officers sent to the airport. Said and done, policemen rushing off and I feel like in a computer game.

When the police get rolling, I get a new image from your phone, it is fuzzy but I seem urskillja a wall of phones in the background, it must be a phone deal of some sort and it seems to be the same guy who still has the phone. This is what the picture looks.

20 minutes later storms it into a dozen police with pictures of the guy in the shop and he must have been quite surprised as he stood behind the counter caught in the act. They'll take the guy and I get back my phone but still is not the pursuit of. This guy is the owner of a phone shop and have namely just purchased the phone from those who stole it. Just hours earlier, he had met the guys at a hotel in town and received the phone introduced to him, it was here that the first picture was taken. There were two young guys who had sold the phone to him and the police thought they could find them here two. Even easier it was when I got the phone back and took a look in the, in the gallery, I found dozens of pictures of the thieves from the night before. They had in fact triumph taking pictures of themselves and then sold the phone without deleting them. In one picture you can see through one of the guys pose with all the money from plånbböckerna.

The police say they will get hold of the guys in the night, I do not know how, maybe they got some information of the guy who bought the phone or if they might recognize some of the images. Anyway, I returned to the hotel to sleep for a few hours now, it was already around midnight. I had to sign a score reports, everything is down on paper, every little word from the story and you can see the how many words it has become just here on the blog.
I returned to the hotel to come back the next morning, namely, they wanted me to point out the guy I gave a ride. I was a bit worried that I would not be able to point him out because I just saw him quickly. Once when he jumped on the moped and again when he jumped off but it was just a quick hello and thank you.

Back at the police station the next day so I can immediately view of one of the guys from the pictures on your phone. He sits in the corner in one of the rooms and looking very sad. He has obviously been up all night and been questioned by police. I hear that they've got the three guys. The two who sold the phone and he stole it from me. Oh, I thought, they already know who's who?
Still a little worried about whether I would be able to point out the guy, I am somewhat relieved when police announced that he has already admitted everything. He has admitted that he got pushed by me to the beach and he went into my bag and stole both the phone and the two pockets and then they sold it to the guy with the phone store. He has admitted the whole thing and in the same second that I get to meet him, I realize why.

I am sitting in a leather couch in one of the many offices that are in the police station. It is a simple room with a small desk in wood, there is a pile of papers in one corner and an old laptop is turned off on the table. In the corner stands a bookcase with what looks to be old archived paper. I'm sitting and chatting with some of the police officers who seem to be in a good mood, probably because they managed to catch these guys. Suddenly, the police chief in with a lame guy in one hand dragging behind. I look up and immediately get a bad conscience for having pulled off this whole carousel. The guy is completely broken, his lips are swollen so that he can hardly speak, police skratar and pointing at him and call him “Donald Duck”, His both arms are completely blue from beatings. He is limping heavily and it is only the left arm that works. The police throw him down on the ground in front of me and pulls some sharp kicks to the side of him. Somewhat shocked, I say that there probably is not necessary. I now get your own little Q & A session where I get to ask any questions I want him where the police will act interpreter. There's not much to ask because he already has admitted everything. Out of curiosity, I asked, however, how he got the bag and it was so easy that he just poked up the zipper with nail, i.e. he sepparerade tags from each other with low siping. You know that when a zipper does not work, sometimes the teeth apart and go to open the lock. When he picked up the valuables he closed the case again with the numeric lock is still untouched by pulling the zipper back and forth over the section he poked up. Clever.

We sat there for a while and I thought that even if he had done wrong in stealing so he does not deserve such treatment, He had tears in her voice and apologized to me by beating his hands together as best he could and bow upper body for me. I tried to show him that I was not mad at him, but just happy to have gotten back my phone.

After a while, asking police if I have any more questions for him, I have not, I say. Then, perhaps, the most surprising deal. One of the officers asked me a little discreet with lower voice if I want a few minutes with him alone and have to pay back with kicks and punches. I say that I have no need, and I think that mistreatment quota has been filled long ago.

Everyone leaves the room and I'm sitting there alone with any kind of lump in the stomach very touched by the event. This guy is now in jail in around 30 days and reading teaches welling continue in the same spirit. One of the wallets were found with any card but the money was disappeared without a trace, police said. Probably because the police themselves picked on the judgment. That is how it works when a communist regime that Indonesia does not directly overwhelms the police with money for their efforts. As a result, when the corruption and villainy Money scam like this.

End gone for my part that got the phone back, but sometimes I think back on this guy who now sits in prison, I do not hope that this event has shaped him in the wrong direction in life. He's obviously not a member of any organized bråttslighet but just a regular guy who thought he could make some quick cash from a rich tourist. Hopefully he'll stay away from it in the future, but it can also develop in the other direction to polishat and perhaps heavier crime in the future. Let's hope it does not get the latter. I talked a bit with the locals about my experiences and according to them this is the treatment of the guy just right. They are so terribly afraid that crime will evolve into something bigger then their only source of income is just tourism and tourists, but the whole economy crash. It truly is a world far away from Sweden where police must work with kid gloves in order to not be accused of assault.

It was a long damn post and if you got through the whole so thank you for reading. Becomes more posts soon. On re-reading!

3 thoughts on “The surfing detective

  1. Johan

    Otroligt spännande läsning! Fick du tag på tyskarna så de åtminstone har fått tillbaka den ena plånboken?

    1. victor Post author

      Jag pratade lite med dom över mail men det fanns inte mycket till värde i plånboken eftersom pengarna var borta och korten var spärrade så plånboken blev kvar eftersom dom personligen måste komma dit och hämta den. Dom var iaf glada över att jag lyckades få tillbaka min telefon.


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