In '92 when we six arrived in Indonesia there were three or four ex MMA blokes flying F28s for Merpati.
One was a good mate of one of our blokes so we could go and pick their brains about local conditions and better still get a photo copy of the latest letdown chatrs that they had.
We were employed by a new Singaporean company and wet leased to Bouraq.
Our principals were just business men who spotted a buck to be made but had no operational aviation background.
While in Singapore signing contracts and waiting for the ex Malaysian 737s to be painted we were able to meet up with some Silk Air mates and question them and score their old Jep charts to get some idea of what we were going into. They operated into a couple of the ports we were going to.
There was a faded Turkish 737 at the paintshop that we couldn't believe actually was still flying. It looked like something you see on the side of an aerodrome in Oz with much of the paint peeling off, bits missing from it and the grass growing luxuriously all around it.
We noted it's rego.
After our aircraft came out of the paintshop, we headed off to Jakarta with the Indonesian DGAC type specialist checking the first of us on the way.
Over the next couple of days we took turns to fly with "The Brown Snake" who wore fingerless driving gloves and smoked continuously as the 'new 737' did proving flights to the first places we were going to operate to.
Between us we had one cap, two ties, a collection of old wings and uniforms that weren't too tatty. Those uniforms were 'stolen'; according to a certain small, nasty little man, when talking to reporters a couple of years before.
At each stop, whoever was the captain, got a tie and the hat for walking down the steps to be greeted by the airport manager at the pomp and ceremonial welcome.
We had a load of hosties on board, having their turns at operating and they'd sweep down the steps first and make a guard of honour at the bottom before a poor Aussie embarassedly marched down the stairs to the clapping and cheering of the ground staff and officials.
The other five sauntered down when the speeches were being made and got close to the feast to get in early.
The Brown Snake didn't take part in all the hullabooloo. He wasn't Bouraq and didn't want to stop smoking.
It was a good thing the Brown Snake was in the right seat and the Chief Pilot was in the jumpseat, because we couldn't understand what the controllers were saying.
The ATIS was in a different order and we needed to listen to it half a dozen times at first to decipher what all the numbers meant.
It was a steep learning curve.
By the end of the first day of four legs from Jakarta to Surabaya, Banjarmassin and back to JKT we were all stuffed and sticky.
We'd found we were most welcome (No racial discrimination) and the chicks were like back in the olden days... charming and respectful.
The latter years of out time in Oz there'd been a distinct change in the chick's attitude towards the pilots.
There was one who got an earfull after addressing the FO with, "Listen sonny I've been flying a lot longer than YOU. I've been flying seventeen years".
I think it was part of the build up to deregulation by the Fatman and the ex Aussie Media Mogul ... get a wedge in between the different aircrew.
By the end of day one we'd learned really important things like, "Watch out for the little red bits in the food... they burn" and " those little shrivelled green beans aren't... they're red hot coals in fancy dress.