Saturday 20th March
WARNING !!!! LONG !!!!
Our final day's holiday
As this is the penultimate 'chronicle' I intend to make it a good one.Not only for posterity, but I have come to realise that I have a few thousand friends (forever the master of overtstatement) that seem to enjoy my literary folly, this is underlined by the million and half new Facebook friends that I have acquired along the way , ( see, I told you). It's always been a bit of a passion of mine , this writing malarkey, and I still do a monthly scribe for a football 'fanzine' in the UK.In fact I've done the latter for nigh on 20 years.Sad? Guess so! Perhaps Twiggs is right after all :)
Using modern technology, the advent of 'word' and latterly 'pages' with my Macbook Pro ( get me eh?) this is relatively simple.The age of email has ensured the globe is indeed a smaller place, and somethimes sit back and think it's all a bit sad. Anyway, I'm rambling...so it's Saturday, I still haven't packed , and still have a fair bit to do, it all only ever starts in one place though, and that's breakfast
Before we begin the dodgems , I spy a scooter at the top of our drive, and I recognise the female on the back.It is Carla, the owner of the Villa . I attract her attention,our eyes meet and she seems to want to rather not engage in conversation, so I make a point of going up to her, telling her about how wonderful our stay has been, and enquire as to her health and temper.She seems rather agitated, and wants a word with Wayan. Houston, we have a problem... and more on this later
This morning, as it is our last breakfast togetther before we begin to depart in the same two groups as we arrived, we decide to go try Cafe Mano again.This is the little place that shares a car park with La Lucciola...same views, different price. I drive us in very confident manner, ( I have got to to know the roads quite well now), and soon arrive at said car park. I have only suffered two or three near misses along the way, one cardiac arrest, and chalked up two scooter rider's back mud guards. I should have stickers adorning the side of the van in RedBaronesque style, so as the locals know just how many close shaves I have had. That's if there were room for all the stickers of course.
Like a scalded cat, the car park attendant jumps out of his ricketty booth and halts my progress and I hand over a 2,000rp note, he notes how easily I bid him good morning, and with a Selamat Pagi, an Apa Kabar , a Bacik Bacik and a Sama Sama ( impressed girls?) I enter the desolate car park, and spend 2 or 3 minutes deciding where to position the trusty chariot.Usually the decision is made for you, and a small space is all you ever find. I think we are still on some sort of Nyepi 'hangover' as everything seems to still be very quiet. I have also noticed how few tourists seem to be around, and yes, it's low season, but it is still rather quiet in comparison to when I was here at this time of year in prior years
I have remarkably achieved the feat of driving 7 people to a restaurant, and in one piece. Now I am stationery, these 7 individuals recover from the brace position, remove their heads from behind shuttered fingers and can stop trembling, for an hour at least. We walk over to Cafe Mano, it's almost deserted, and the keen waitress girls eagerly push 3 small tables toghether to make one big chat bench. There is only one more group of 4 people at the restaurant, and , what is this I can hear? I do believe it's a German accent !! Yes!! do I at last get chance to show off my scorn , my perona, and general over reaction to them? Afraid not, they are a jolly lot, and have miles of smiles between them. This is a bit odd, I reckon they must be double agents just pretending to be Germans
So, I order my 'classic' breakfast which is the same concoction as I had enjoyed a few days earlier. It turns up with two nattily fried eggs, crispy bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and a strange piece of Turkish bread that imitates an insole that may have been washed up from a shoe on the beach. However, it was still edible, I am actually quite partial to insoles as long I can have HP sauce with them. Nescafe was washing down my fodder, and , having finished, I ask to be excused from the table, (forever the true English gent), and take a short stroll along the beach to the right of La Lucciola . The incoming tide curtails this stroll, so I amble back to the cafe where I take a seat on the steps that lead down to the grassy area.Here , I ponder my holiday, whilst at the same time watching the waves roll in
I think the last two weeks have gone very slowly, and I think this is a good thing. As I sit there thinking, I was trying to work out what percentage of me was looking forward to going home, and what percentage of me was so very sad at leaving. In fact, I remember being quite choked up about having to say goodbye to Wayan, Dinda and Unga. Happy thoughts, I have to have happy thoughts, so I start to think about planning my next trip
Mrs W and I are actually going on another venture quite soon. On the 14th April, I will be embarking upon my first ever cruise , and Bosun Wharfie will be travelling from Sydney to Brisbane on a 3 day trip aboard the good ship Sun Princess...( I would like to tell you all about this, but not really relevant to a Bali forum!)
Breakfast over, I drive back to the Villa, but not before almost maiming at leat 15 locals, and nearly taking out a Warung and two trees. On the way back, my father-in-law asks if he can jump out at an ATM... dropping back two gears, I try to find the ejector seat. There isn't one... funny that, there's one in Mrs W's Cooper S . Unless that's just how I jump out from such a small cockpit.
I duly pull over, but the ATM isn't working, he leaves it until later , and that saves me from some more dodgy manoeuvres that could have resulted in fatalaties. I'm soon in Jl Umalas II and bipping the horn as I ride the crests of the twisty corners. Back at the Villa, I take the chance to glide down the steps and to my bedroom. Here, I at least make the effort of opening my case in readiness to pack away my clothes, gifts, beauty products and the 5 golf balls I didnt lose when I was with the Raffles crew.
Wayan, as agreed, comes to pick us up around 2pm, as I have still to get back to the tailor to pick up my new clothes, and also to pay the balance.Off we go back into the madness with Wayan, and we are soon in Kuta, and into one of the several rabbit warrens that make up this amazing town. Soon at Bagus Tailor, and plenty of time to admire myself in the mirror. I look even better when I decide to put the pants on. All alterations are done perfectly, and I duly pay my bill, and leave as happy as ever with my goods. My step son is also delighted with his 3 suits that he has purchased for work
My adorably cute step daughetr, who indeed was bashed around with a pretty stick, then wants to go to the bag shop that is in the same 'precinct' as Bintang Supermarket.Here we lock in a deal for a bag that she wants for school, and to celebrate the end of my shopping, I take her and Wayan directly opposite and insist that he joins us for a scoop or two of Gelato. My mango and chocolate hits the spot, and, although I'm sweet enough, a bit more of the sugary stuff never goes amiss
Back we go, for one last time to the Villa, to finish my packing, have one last dip in the pool, tidy up our room and freshen up under the shower. Today was unbearably sticky, the humidity was high, the heat full on, and I had expected a storm well before now. Wayan is starting to look a tad forlorn, as he knows the rapport we have built up is soon to be put on hold, and he spends some time with my step daughter and the cute white bunny he took her to Denpasar to get last week
Now then, here comes a drama. The owner of the Villa, has royally stuffed up, and she has double booked Sunday.She has 6 Poms arriving at 1pm , but the other half of our party are not vacating until 8pm. Totally expectedly, the owner calls me to negotiate, so using Wharfie skills I say this need not be a biggie if she relocates the other 6 of my family members to a hotel for the duration, also, she is quite free to offer me a reduced rate for the Villa for the inconvenience later in the year.She agrees to my suggestion, and said she knew it would all work out for the best.See I can be a diplomat too :) She had put Wayan in an awkward position too, asking him to sort out a local hotel and to negotiate prices on her behalf. I thought this was very unfair on him.
This sorted, Wayan stays with us while we do our last few bits of packing, and whizzes my step daughter down to his house so she can see their premises , how they live, their kids rooms etc. Nothing has ever been too much trouble for this guy ever since we arrived, and we have bonded in quite a brotherly fashion. We shared a drink and sat chatting on the sofa, I'm still learning new Balinese phrases thanks to him and a lump came to my throat when he grabbed my arm and said how much he would miss us.He really welled up, and the bright sunlight made the tears in the corner of his eyes glisten like a diamond. Very apt, he's a diamond guy
My mother and father in law are also still at the Villa, they are baby sitting while my brother and sister in law enjoy a sunset dinner at Jimbaran Bay, and I believe they headed off to Sharkie's .The last few minutes seem like torture. I don't really want to leave, but I have to, I promise Wayan that next time we visit I will bring him the Toshiba laptop from which I upgraded from so he can stay in touch with us via email, and also allow his beautiful kids to use for school work etc. He is very taken back by this offer and doesn't really know what to say
The time is here, my step daughter, step son and girlfriend plus Mrs W and yours truly bid farewell to mum and dad in law,and tell them we will catch up next week in Brisbane for a holiday de-briefing session. We pile aboard the Avanza for one last time. Wayan , helpful as ever, loads up our luggage, and off we go down Sunset Road, and off to the airport. I've got a terrible feeling of nausea, all because my time in bali is once more at a close.Unusually for me , I sit very quietly in the Toyota, I don't really know what to say
It took ages to get to the airport, traffic everywhere, almost 9pm before we finally reach the drop zone.Now, it's the time I have dreaded for a few days . Wayan hands down the suit cases and our hand luggage, he shakes hands with my step son, and gives him a hug. Next is his girlfriend, again she gives Wayan a big hug and says thanks for all he has done. Mrs W gives him a kiss on both cheeks and a real big hug, and underlines our intent to coem back and see him as soon as possible. He then turns to my step daugher, they embrace, they have become very close this past two weeks. I can see that Wayan is very emotional
He has deliberately left me until last, and it's one of those moments in life where words are really not necessary. I'm too choked to say anything, he pulls me towards him, I get a big slap on the back, a big hug, a handshake, and we just stand there for a while. Fighting back the tears, I manage to quiveringly tell him how great he has been, and how he has made our holiday. He hugs me again, and says how much he will miss me, and all of us. By now, the tears are streaming down my cheeks.I flick one away from my left eye with my right ‘big' finger, and sweep the same hand back across my face to remove the mositure from the right side. Wayan says he has to go because he has to pick up my brother and sister in law from Jimbaran. I stand and watch him drive away, we salute each other in military fashion as he disappears from my view
All the others are, by now, inside the airport, and they know not to talk to me because of the state I am in. Tears are still rolling as I put my luggage through the first scanner. Holiday over, just the arduous night time flights to look forward to. Checked in no problem, and ready to go back to darwin on JQ 82
Almost surreal in its appearance, I see my beloved Wolverhampton Wanderers are beating Aston Villa 2-1 live on ESPN at one of the cafes inside the airport. I want to see this through to the end because of its importance.Typically we are called for final boarding with 15 minutes of the game left, I ask for the take off to be dealyed, but. Jetstar are bigger than me, and I have to wait until I get to Darwin to find out the final score.I find time to send Wayan a text message to thank him again, and his response ' I can't wait til you come back bali'....starts me fighting tears again
We take off on time, and we sit in Row 1 , to be honest, I'm thinking more about when I will see Wayan and his family again than Wolves and their relegation fears
So that's it guys, it's been a pleasure, and please feel free to ask any questions. Thanks to you all for the info I received on Seminyak before we got there, it was invaluable
Until the next time. Selamat Jalan... Wharfie....xxx