My JBR! I'm sorry, it's quite lengthy, infact VERY lengthy!!!! Feel free to take about 5 days to read it.
Well the instructions were simple before we left Melbourne - 'No more handbags Lou!!!' What the? Who in their own right mind tells a woman departing for Bali 'No more handbags?' This airport departure lounge comment was so hilarious I had to buy myself another shot of tequila before doing my final bum piss and boarding the plane. Yes, I am one of those Bali goers that get the runs before they even hit the tarmac in Bali let alone Tullamarine. It's called PFP's (pre-flight pooh's) from the anxiety of the upcoming flight. The idea is to drink copious amounts of tequila at the airport and try desperately to perform a sober look as you board the shiny aircraft. It's the only day of the year I start drinking at 6.40am, actually I hadn't even sobered up from the night before, what am I talking about? But it kicked off my holiday nicely and I can tell you all this because people that holiday in Bali don't judge AM drinkers.....do we???!!!! Well it was time to board so I thought I'd suck down a couple final gaggers outside the airport before giving the kisses and disappearing beyond the silver doors. Little did we know that the line beyond that door was going to be chockers so I was beginning to think my last ciggie was a no, no. Anyway eventually got in and looked around duty free and started a purchase when an angry voice in the distance started shouting my surname and my friend's surname as he ran in what seemed like slow mo towards us. WHAT THE??? Ohhhh shyte, we're supposed to be on that plane. We were literally 'jogged' from Duty Free down to the plane and greeted by a bunch of stony faced passengers. What could I say aside from 'Umm I've never held up a plane before, Cheers'. Anyway lucky for me our seats were actually row one so I didn't have to walk up the aisle and cop side eyes from everyone. As for the airline doing the typical 'It is illegal to drink your own duty free alcohol on this flight' trick, what is that? I am an Australian flying to Bali and unless you serve me a Gin every 20 minutes I really have no choice. Can it get any easier? ‘Australian + Bali = Gin'. You do the math and bring it on! But no, responsible service of alcohol was getting enforced more on that flight than what it does at the local Pub after midnight. I survived though and ordered two per hostess visit, one for me, one for my husband, or so she thought. I think they got suss somewhere over South Australia when my eyes were blood shot and all I was being extremely loud. Soon enough I was banished by hubby to the back of the plane where my best mate and her boyfriend were so we did a swap seat and I got pissed back there with her for the next 2 hours. Arrived safely, minus a vomit which is always a bonus, and we headed (hobbled, whatever) to the VOA lines. It was a sea of sweaty men, which I never complain about, with tickets and passports in hand, holding up their swaying female companions. Finally after much giggles and light headedness, we get through the counter, past the x-ray guy who is never looking and out to the carousel to collect the bags and pray it's not marked for the alcohol inside. Nope, lucky me, no X marks the spot here sunshine so the Jacobs Creek Champers shall continue on this journey. Actually this time I decided to do the right thing and declare it on that form and even after the customs guy looked at it, he still waved us through. Headed outside and wait..............there it is.........Aaaaaah, the smells came flooding back even if it was fumes, cigarettes and sewers, it didn't matter to me. It was Bali as I remembered it and although miles from home, I was overcome with a feeling that, I am in fact home. It's a strange affect and although the heat hits you out of no where as well, I never noticed it at that point in time, I just remembered the smell and feeling happy and sad all at once. Everyone has it different but we all get the 'Bali Affect' somehow. Snapped out of my arrival trance to Mark saying 'Louie, move, come on'. It was clear I had suddenly forgotten there was cold Bintang in my hotel room. We were ushered to our car and headed off to the Besakih in Sanur. There is nothing more intriguing than watching a Bali virgin's face in the first trip from the airport. With one virgin on board with us, I couldn't take my eyes off Tim for the first 5 minutes in the car. His expression was priceless and occasionally he would let fly with a 'f*%k' each time a bike just about side swiped the car or a bemo pulled in front of us. I'm sure he was going over in his head when his Will was last updated. We arrived safely as always and Tim stepped away from the car saying 'this place is kooky'. I knew from that moment he would love it. Did the whole check in thing which seems to take forever although really only 5 minutes but it's at this time when you don't just want, but NEED a Bintang. So we check in and I start the whole freaky Glen20 germ out spray when I remembered I made promises and was being waited on. The very first thing on our list was to head to Makro for a microwave, this was to be my first Makro experience. Its like Bali's answer to Bunnings only not hardware - it has everything!!!!! Found a microwave for the bubba and bottles which I think was about $60 AUS, stocked up on water, Bintang and chips and then headed back. Dumped our shopping, donned the bathers, gin pot and all and off we go like cartoon characters. I had every intention of going directly to the beach to see the girls but the pool got in my way. I literally fell right in so I settled for a Bintang at the pool bar and a wave until they all come running over. We've been going to the Besakih for quite a while now and are well known so there's no 'fresh blood' syndrome when we get there and zero chance of being hassled for massages, hair braids, manicures & jiggy jig (whatever's on offer really!) on the Hotel beach. That's why I love it, it's so familiar, we fit right in like one of the family. I stood by the pool edge with my arms crossed on the ledge and put my head sideways and just watched for what felt like forever. I saw Tim fit right in and meet the girls on the beach and taste his first Bintang. Got him, hook line and Bali sinker. Watched our friends kids get introduced for the first time to the girls who were absolutely spellbound by the youngest one (8 months) and then I watched all the stress and tension drain out of Marks face as he stared at the water. Just what he needs. After swimming all arvo the rest of the night was spent at Lazer Bar across the road, getting fixed up with Bintang. I couldn't have imagined my first day back in Bali any better, the smiles of old women with gold teeth and the laughing kids down the beach warmed my heart and a feeling of absolute relaxation came over me like I'd been there for days and not hours. It was good to be back.
Awoke at 6.00am on Sunday and I am by no means an early bird, give me a sleep in any day but not today, I couldn't help myself, I wasn't even tired or hung-over, this was worth a jump and heel click. I knew my bro Jeff would be up to show his mate Tim around the hotel surrounds and seek out drinking venues and I was really excited about my first Bali breakfast. I woke Mark and we headed to breakfast and had an absolute feast! This was the start of the full Bali carnage.
Carnage did someone say? Hmmmmm. Our Bali virgin was getting very excited about his first trip overseas and the taste and price of the beer made it even better, so much so, it seemed like a good idea to start drinking early and keep on drinking. Along comes the offer of a jet ski, just add water and there you have it, a recipe for disaster. I kind of hinted that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go out under the influence but I didn't want to be the 'nut buster' of the group and I figured my main concern was my brother and he hadn't been drinking anyway so he'll be fine. These are men in their 30's so really, old enough to make up your own mind I figured. Jeff commented to Tim to stay away from him on the water a number of times before getting on their separate jet ski's but that didn't seem to make much of a difference in all the excitement. 20 minutes or so went by and we had seen Jeff pull up a few times out there and ask his mate again, in no uncertain terms, stay away because he was just getting too close for comfort. Sure enough, the next time I looked to the water there had been a head on, I couldn't believe it. I felt the colour drain from my face and could only imagine the next 12 hours at BIMC. Desperately trying to hear something from the water, I noticed them both get back up on their jet ski's thank God, at least there was movement. As they came closer I noticed Tim's arm covered in blood and heard the Balinese operator mention 2 more seconds and his leg would have been smashed. Jeff seemed ok but extremely and I mean extremely, pissed off letting out every swear word under the sun as he stormed off to his room. Although I wanted to say a million times to Tim 'I told you so', I kept my mouth shut and took him to get cleaned up, I thought the pain he was suffering seemed to be bad enough. He took some pain killers and went to bed.....for 5 days. The bruising, vomiting, inability to eat, lack of movement, fever and pain was so bad we thought there must have been some serious internal damage but it's hard enough talking a pissed bloke off a jet ski let alone making him see a Doctor. So that was it, Tim's first week in Bali was non existent, spent lying in bed with no company so the lesson is......calm the hell down, its Bali yeah but please keep your wits about you. I know most people wouldn't be this stupid especially after the events of last year but lesson learnt big time and even though his bruising and pain was almost unbearable, he is so, so lucky. Oh and did I mention lack of holiday spending money thereafter?? $900 AUS to fix 2 jet ski's and believe me, this didn't seem like any sort of scam, the cracks in these things were massive.
Things were pretty tense on the beach that arvo so as a loyal forumite, I thought I would try and fulfil my meet and greet duties and find some fellow buddy's. Went for a wander to the Swastika Hotel to try and find Nat but she was out so I settled for a message at reception in the hope we might hook up later but it wasn't to be. I then headed in to the Santrian to find Madge but again, to no avail. My cries of 'Madge, Oooooeeeee Madge' through the garden and around the front pool went unheard. I headed back to the Besakih beach and had a pedicure instead.
After our little episode on the second day, things calmed right down and unfortunately for the Bali guys on the beach, they didn't make one more cent out of any of us on jet ski rides which was a bummer because we were all pretty keen. Our first few days were spent really chilling out on the beach, catching up with the girls, massages and slow walks to the Sindhu Beach Market for barter heaven. I quickly brushed up on my language skills which consisted of 'Tidak' and 'Bintang terima kasih'.....and, well that's it, nothing else required. Visited our old mate Charlie Brown on the beach for some genuine fake Gucci sunglasses which he guaranteed would make me look like Madonna. Last year he said Britney Spears so I can see how I've gained muscle and got shorter over time. The same old faces greeted us down at the markets still hungry for tourists to get amongst a sarong starting at $20 or a bug infested bongo bound to be confiscated at customs. Had a few purchases but nothing over the top, I was saving my energy and rupiahs for Kuta. That beach strip in Sanur not only became popular for market strolls in the morning but happy hour hunts in the early evening thus, arriving at dinner in very poor form but its expected and makes no difference when most people you are dining with did the crawl with you. The Besakih, where we stayed, never have a Happy Hour which was quite disappointing. I mean it is their loss if they don't encourage their own patrons let alone extra's in to drink for an hour or so but it was a bit of a let down and you don't have that 'cocktail hour' feel where you get to meet other people from the other resorts. We made ourselves known at other hotels so it really made no difference anyway but none the less, would have been nice.
It was now day 3 and I can honestly say this is when I realised nothing else really mattered right now. I'd eaten my pancake fix for the day and sat starring at the water while I sipped on my kopi with danish awaiting a scoff and suddenly realised it was the first morning I had woken and the 'office' wasn't the first thing on my mind. In-fact the care factor was zero. I didn't even feel the need to call and ask if everything was ok. Actually the fact that I was eating pancakes followed by danishes should be enough of a sign to show that I really couldn't care less about anything right now. That morning I sat for ages just watching people come and go, listening to conversations and watching the water. I couldn't stop thinking about the lady on the table next to me who kept going over how she was ripped off by $6 dollars the previous day and what a terrible experience it was having to walk to the market in the heat and then to see ‘those' dirty children bathing in buckets. Well some people embrace a culture, others give new meaning to the phrase culture ‘shock' by way of shocking other people with what to me seemed to me like very derogatory comments. Mark and I listened, every now and then shaking our heads and laughing quietly to ourselves. I just kept sipping on my cold kopi with goats milk thinking how lucky I was to be there. I started on the danish and a kopi refill while Mark had his first swim for the day and the rest of the crew slowly streamed down for breakfast.
I realised today that I was out of cash so this morning would also be taken up moving about Balinese style and visit the ATM. Now this is where my day got 'sticky' shall we say and it was only 11.00am. Why do people continue to test fart in Bali? It's just not the done thing and you only have to try yourself or be in the company of another test farter before you never, ever go down that path again. Now I've been a sufferer of this myself at Yani's Restaurant back in the 90's and with a fear of gekko's at the time, I struggled to pull myself together to enter the gekko party in the cubicle therefore resulting in what I call, a Bali panty pancake. Anyway we won't go into my chequered past. Now there's a time and a place for a tester and it's usually in the comfort of your hotel room and generally with white porcelain under you, am I right? It shouldn't need to be spelt out. Well I was patiently waiting for the use of the ATM just out front of my hotel as a gentleman was plugging away at the machine inside. Time was ticking but I was happy to stand in the blistering heat refusing offers of transport and hash for a good 5 minutes. All of a sudden I see his hand suspiciously cup at his rear end and I start to wonder ‘what was he doing?' It's not really so unusual I guess and I'm generally not offended by this 'cupping' behaviour and have been a public wedgie picker myself but I was sort of intrigued, this was no wedgie nor male adjustment. Then it dawned on me....., my God, he's test farted at the ATM and things had gone desperately wrong! Had he mistaken this ATM booth for another type of cubicle? His legs buckled slightly to that of a 2 year old with a not so fresh nappy and his face turned a nice shade pink. Clutching his arse with one hand, his rupiahs in the other and card in mouth, he literally ran from the ATM, arse lower to the ground than a duck while he muttered with his strong accent ‘sorry, sorry'. Is that all we get for test fart compensation these days? 'Sorry, Sorry'. I did open the ATM door to proceed in for cash and then I thought to myself 'what are you doing?' I couldn't possibly step in and shut the door to get to know the linger of a stranger. I simply had to take a walk, gather my thoughts and move on from the experience but I must say, I'm better for it. How? I learnt over the next 4 days that test farting was not an option and my punishment for laughing at this poor gentlemen was to cop a nasty dose of Bali Belly myself.
Yep that's right, from Tuesday through to Friday I was laid up in bed with the worst stomach cramps and nausea I've ever had. If it wasn't coming from one end it was coming from the other. It was time to call on the Doctor, I couldn't possibly spend the rest of my holiday this sick and lying on a bathroom floor crying and begging to head back to Melbourne! What was I thinking, I was in Bali on happy holidays and all I wanted was my own bed and my pussy cats but believe me, it was feral. I had already tried Charcoal, Imodium, Entrostop, Mylanta, Buscopan, you name it but I figured I had a pretty nasty bug which required strong antibiotics and now looking back, I should have called the Doctor after 24 hours. The Doctor came (with his bag and his hat) and could hardly speak English which kind of surprised me, he gave me 5 different types of tablets to take and I was sure I'd be going home hooked. I mentioned how I had an empty stomach (naturally) and did I have to eat before I took these antibiotics to which he answered ‘yes' but not in a convincing manner. So I re-phrased it and asked again and noted that I can't really keep food in my stomach so does it matter if I don't eat before I have the tablets to which he answered ‘no'. Aaaahh ok, maybe this was a guy they sent up from the street?? 3 Doctors visits, about 38 tablets, $120 and 4 days later I was brand new. Good tip though for anyone who has a bout of Bali belly, it's really important to keep up your fluids and I drank Gastrolyte as often as possible to keep me hydrated, it was the best thing ever and apparently stay away from sports drinks like Gatorade as the amount of sugar in them only dehydrates you quicker. There are Balinese tablets called Entropstop which you can buy at Circle K for about $2.00, now these will pretty much do nothing for you if you have serious Bali belly but apparently if you take them at the first sign of the ‘softies', you'll be right and they should fix you up. Bugger spending a fortune on every pooh stopper from home - 'try Entrostop'. I'm a walking advertisement.
Saturday when I came good I chilled on the beach, took a walk, kept the fluids up and sat about chatting with the guys, having a beach lunch and a massage. I figured tonight I was making my return dinner appearance with the gang and could eat myself stupid knowing I would most likely be fully constipated and blocked up for at least a month. Preparation is the key. Like the test farter and our injured jet skier, I had missed a nice chunk of my first week so I wasn't happy at all and had some ground to cover. I figured a good dose of alcohol would also kill any remaining bugs in my tummy so with everyone in our posse back on board, it was time to give it a shake. We all ventured to dinner at Bonsai Café on the beach which is always absolutely beautiful, followed by beer after beer at Lazers. You can't go past Bonsai's spring rolls, they tasted exactly like Mum's home made chop suey on a Sunday night and I'm pretty sure that's a good thing. Well we hit Lazers until about 4.00am and weren't at all surprised when the bill read ‘67 Bintangs' and was in excess of a million rupiahs. I also developed the nickname ‘Lefty' for that night as I was so shyte faced my walk was always going left and never straight ahead.
Next day was Waterbom Park with a hangover. The bemo ride there was a shocker, we were all so dehydrated and it was a really stuffy day and the traffic was chaos. Once we arrived and I think I downed 4 bottles of water in 5 minutes which in turn made me throw it all back up. Quality chick aren't I? Felt much better after a half hour kip in one of the rented kabana thingy's then spent the day running around like 5 year olds, playing on the kids playground, soaking up the sun on the lazy river and water slides all arvo. It was such a good day but I have one question. Since when was it ok for women to sun bathe naked at a primarily kids fun park? Puh-lease ladies! While the boys in our group got plenty of mileage from it, there's a time and place to put your fantastic plastic coco butter covered perky's out there. Tut tut. We were pretty knackered by the time we got home at 5.00pm so it was a very quiet night spent with a deck of cards and small quantities of grog on the balcony.
Today was a sleep in and a fully blown recovery and a gear up for the night ahead. It was my brother, Jeff's 32nd birthday and just for something out of the ordinary, we thought we might get out and get on it! We lounged around all day being treated to manicures and massages, having swims and lots of laughs on the beach. That night we ate at a fantastic restaurant called The Village which is Italian and apparently the same owners as the old Mossimo's. I was so disappointed to discover Mossimo's had closed down but started doing cart wheels when the waitress at The Village said they were the same people. The food was, as per usual, absolutely stunning. You couldn't fault it and the wine was also excellent quality and all at really good prices. I couldn't help but think I'd be paying at least $100 per head for this standard in Melbourne. After dinner we sat chatting and drinking until Jeff was presented with his birthday cake which had written on it HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEPP. Hysterical, we laughed, ate and drank more then headed out to a bar called Jimmy's and slowly made our way back home going via every bar until we reached the hotel. It was really quiet out at the bars tonight, not much happening at all.
The Kuta expedition is always worth writing home about. As usual the bemo driver gets confused because we want to go here and the traffic goes there and no one has any idea. He ends up saying 'Yes, this bemo corner' and we find ourselves at Melasti. What the? Come on buddy, me been here before and I no love you long time now! It was all good although the intention was to end up there and not the other way around. He knew we were onto his shifty intentions and we all laughed, paid him and jumped out. Ding, Ding! Now we want a good, clean fight! Huh?? 50% off, even %10 requires no good, no clean nothing. It involves a hip and shoulder to the Dutch woman eyeing off that same Chanel purse. It consists of commando rolls across bemo bonnets on Jln Legian in order to get to that Louis Vuitton pash mina out of the grips of a Japanese man, what does he want with a pash mina anyway? 'Excuse me Sir, I think I saw your wife outside with a Balinese guy saying Jiggy Jig something something'. What just devastates me more than anything is when I'm forced to place a curse upon a fellow Aussie shopper or worse still, one of my friends. Some things just really can't get between a woman in Bali that finds a bathing suit in a 12 that looks like good quality. The curse usually goes something like this 'Please allow her Arak pissedness hangover to be so severe that she shytes in those bathers if she gets them before me'. At that point, they get put back on the shelf and.....taadaaaaaaaah, all yours Louie! Nice score, love your work. After the first shopping bargain is usually when I stop and contemplate moving here permanently and ask if this is what can happen in heaven. Well I stopped and thought too long obviously, one of the girls is back to greet me with a bargain - biotch. Motto in Bali while shopping, you snooze you lose SO WAKE UP! 5 hours of shopping later, we meet up with the boys. Somehow they always pike it after the first hour while the gals continue and they go and drink. Drinking is for the weak.....wait, sorry, what am I thinking?? I can't believe I just said that. We headed back to Sanur to unload and recover by the pool with food and beer - something different. I was stoked with my purchases, I got about 140 DVD's, a pair of long leather black winter boots, shirts and t-shirts from Polo, candle holders, funky red and white runners, some Paul Frank t-shirts, Versace jeans and 4 handbags and a couple purses from Top Ten.
It was nearing the end of our second week and we had already had such a fantastic time, even though I was out of the game for a few days. Almost every night was spent with our group of 8 which really was fantastic although Mark and I were hoping to get in a few nice dinners alone but with me down for the count for most of the first week, time was ticking. We decided to head out on the Thursday night alone and have a nice romantic dinner (Aaaaawwww) so we headed to a quiet restaurant in Sanur. The food was absolutely feral unfortunately but we still had a really nice time together and downed a few cocktails at happy hour. I was surprised with the food at this particular restaurant as it looked like such a beautiful place and we had eaten there the year before but it just wasn't any where near as good as what I remembered. I thought all the restaurants had lifted their game in a massive way over the past couple of years but these guys were way off the mark. Never mind, it was still nice and we merged later to a quiet bar a few doors down for a nightcap.
I woke with Bali Belly on Friday and not the kind that charcoal, red cordial and medicine can cure. It was that sick horrible feeling I always get when its time to start organising my bags for the long trip home. God damn it, 2 weeks at a desk never goes this quick. We crawled out of bed and ventured to the restaurant for our second last breakfast which was very quiet, you could feel the depression setting in amongst the group. I was almost worried about suggesting the words 'last dinner' but it had to be done. It was strange that no one gave any input at that time except a few 'I dunno' or 'whatever'. I knew the mood would lift by late afternoon anyway. We spent the day doing some final shopping around Sanur and Mark & I finally purchased some beautiful abstract paintings. I think we ended up spending about $140 AUS but we got 3 massive paintings to put up on the walls at home. I was a tad worried about them not fitting in our luggage but we learnt later they would be fine as carry on even though they were so long rolled up.
A few of the guys thought they might want to head back into Kuta, pay our final respects at the memorial and perhaps have one more last look around and our final Kuta meal. We all headed off at around 4.00pm which was ideal, not too hot and not too busy to do a bit of shopping. We stuck to Legian Street and made it to the memorial before night fall and sat quietly for a few minutes, in fact to me, the whole damn street seemed to go quiet to my ears. It was just an eerie nothing with only my thoughts, mainly just of anger and sadness with that age old question of 'why?' I couldn't stop thinking of the sisters names that were up there and having such a close bond with my own sisters, how you go on after that. I felt the eyes well, the chest get shallow and the salt fall under my unnecessary sunglasses. I had to remain quiet of course but I could hear myself screaming inside wondering if there really was a God. The huge Mothers Day card stuck on the Sari fence sent a shiver down my back and legs, these kids came all that way to wish Mummy a Happy Mothers Day right where they left her having the time of her life. I just felt so weak at that time, maybe helpless I suppose. Peace is all, how hard can it be?
We moved on from the site after much thought and a prayer to head off for dinner which seemed kind of wrong in a way. There was a loss of appetite for me but still, a cool drink would help. We arrived a fair way up the road at Nero's restaurant which looked superb. The food was mainly Greek based and looked lovely although I stuck to a simple salad. We were all ready to head back to Sanur after dinner and gather there for drinks at the hotel. Once home we got together all the half empty duty free grog, buckets of ice and plenty of beer and sat around the hotel pool and bar area drinking and laughing til the wee hours with lots of laughs from the past 2 weeks and stories of what a relaxing holiday it had been and then the occasional dare or silly questions but laughter was the key though. We finished the night off with a short stumble over to Lazers for one last beer then off to bed knowing there was less than 24 hours available to us in paradise, damn.
Well its that time, that really hard, sad time when we prepare to leave.....the time when your husband, brother and all your mates get really frustrated with all the girls because we are trading them goods and favours for bag space. At this point I can offer my brother a very cool shirt I picked up for Dad (which he will never find out about) if he can swap me a small area of his back pack but that's really only going to cover a couple pairs of thongs. Desperation kicks in when hubby says 'you shouldn't buy so many handbags'. WHAT IS THAT? Non-compassionate attitudes will get you nowhere and handbag envy is a curse. It's not my fault it's not accepted in society for a man to walk down the road with a friggin pink Chanel handbag. He can forget me offering up favours and party tricks now for sure, I don't want your stinking bag space. See? This is what happens on the last day, its just sheer anger and tension. Now once the husband, who is clearly already suffering from the thought of Bintang separation, starts to say things to insult a women's accessory cupboard, its clearly time to start planing the next trip to Bali in your head. More importantly, its time to run to the beach market and purchase the cheapest and ugliest Bali duffle bag you can find that can afford a cargo bashing. It's also just dawned on me that we are catching a domestic flight from Sydney to Melbourne on the last leg of the journey and that the weight allowance is less for domestic. Now I had to seriously consider favours with the husband in order to gain his co-operation, it worked. After I had promised him the world for bag space, he informs we still get international allowances although it's technically a domestic flight. That's ok though, that really unattractive pair of shorts he purchased will get a nice dash of bleach in the wash once we get home. Finally got packed up with a fear my case was at least 40 kilo's and my 3 pieces of hand luggage would be a no, no. We headed to the reception to clear up a room bill which came in at $340 AUS, ummm woops. How does that happen? Quickly headed to the beach with all our clothes and shoes to be left behind and said our said goodbyes to all the girls. We left our dear Balinese family with all the money in our purses along with our Bintang crates they could cash in for 200,000rph at Makro and our friends handed over the microwave we bought on the first day. They had to take the manual home for their daughter to read to them so hopefully they get good use out of it. The clock was ticking so we stepped out for a quick meal as we only had an hour up our sleeve so it was a simple Nasi and Bintang across the road until we saw the bus arrive. Said our goodbyes to the staff at reception as the tears start rolling down our sun kissed freckled faces. This is the worst part of the trip, I can handle every monkey bite, test fart, bali belly, frog in the dunny, gekko in the aircon, warm bintang, sun stroke, bad meal, skanky cat rubbing my leg and sandy massage but the good byes are just the worst, almost unbearable.
What is it about this place? The affect is so hard to explain and for any Bali virgin to understand. It makes a woman cry and leaves a man empty, it makes for long and very quiet bus trips to the airport spent staring out the window and looking back at passing women with baskets on their heads and a family of 4 on a motor bike. It's usually the same goodbye every time, ‘we'll call next week, see you next year' and all the hugs to boot. I knew deep down that next year we might not be back, probably not until 2007 at least, maybe 2008. I couldn't stand the thought of mentioning it, I think hearing myself say the words would have slapped me with the hand of reality too and made me really howl. I could save that til now, til the JBR brought it all back. Could it really be that long before our return? There is always the phone calls we have and I can send stuff but it's not the same.
So it's time to get it together and make the flight, our final Bali drive with a crazy man behind the wheel and a quiet Bintang or 3 at the Airport to calm the nerves. I hate the flight home. Almost everyone on those midnight flights sleep and I never can, no matter how tired I am. Hit the duty free shops in Bali as well and picked up some great bargains on the perfume front, I was a tad extravagant actually but it was good compensation considering it will be our last international flight for some time. Boarded the plane and had reasonably good seats although the group was split up but it didn't seem to matter as they all pike and sleep! Took off from Denpasar and I found comfort in an 8 year old this time for all of 1 hour. Her folks fell asleep so we gave Snap and Old Maid a burl until she could hardly keep her little eyes open, I suggested we find some toothpicks to pry them open but that's when I think it dawned on her that I was maybe a drinker who normally played cards for cash and never had the pleasure of living with children. She went to sleep soon after and I was left to read magazines although I eventually ate my words and slept for 2 hours from the affect of the trusty red wine. I hate arriving home at the best of times but this year we had a pit stop and a freaking plane change in Sydney - joy. We had one hour to get off the Bali flight, go duty free shopping and get through to domestic for our flight to Melbourne. We boarded the most incredible Qantas jet from Sydney to Melbourne and I was disappointed it was only for the hour and not from Bali. It had just come in from Bangkok and it was huge. First class had those big beds and even economy had their individual TV's, phones and games. It was really good actually, I'd never been on a plane so big and even the hostesses were in beautiful suits and all professional and older. Most people got off at Sydney so the trip almost seemed like a waste, maybe only 60 people on board. Breakfast was quite nice and before we knew it we were descending into Melbourne. Finally arrived to what felt like the coldest day I have ever experienced, who would have thought people can live like this?? Although technically a short domestic flight we still landed at International, collected our bags and went through customs without any dramas at all.
Time to head home in what I created in my mind as a tropical Bali shower rather than a Melbourne down pour. No one was beeping us on the Freeway either? Cracked open the duty free Baileys, cranked the heater on and sat directly under it as if a warm Bali breeze, still never the same. Don't you just hate the washing circus once you get home?? I guess in a way we were lucky to have the Monday as a public holiday to give us recovery and washing time. I think the next trip might consist of 2 weeks, it feels long enough at the time but really, is it ever?
So long Bali, til I smell your wonderful stench again.