I was wandering through Matahari in Bali Mall for the sixth or seventh time this trip. My eyes were glazed over, I'd long since lost feeling in my hands from carrying all the shopping and I was dreaming of my next visit to Haagen Daz when something caught my eye.
I was staring at a man's crotch with the biggest bulge in his jocks I have ever seen. It took my breath away and I almost had to sit down. Now I'm not 'that' way inclined at all but I had to admire the package. Then I had a little chuckle.
In Matahari they stuff the mannequins underwear with a pair of socks to accentuate the, shall we say 'Christmas Present'. Doesn't anyone else call it that? I do, because it's about the only time mine get's unwrapped. (The wife just discovered last night that I've been writing these and was having a giggle. I'm sure she reads them at work also. I bet I get a call).
It was so funny. The wife was disappointed that I didn't tell her about it until we left the shop. She wanted to take a photo. That's why I didn't tell her about it.
She is a pretty good photographer and can usually snap up to 500-600 photos in one trip. She'll photograph anything. On our first trip to Bali we saw someone being dealt with by a local Police Officer. She wanted to take photos. A mate on the same trip almost got pistol whipped at the airport for not handing his passport over with it open at the correct page. She wanted to photograph that. It was his own fault by the way.
So you can see that when I discovered this I thought it best to keep it to myself rather than have my wife wandering through Matahari taking photos of men's crotches.
I hired a scooter this trip. It's so cheap that I hired it for 10 days and jumped on it with the kids to take them to Kuta and back every now and again. The helmets came with the bike and were included in the price. I hired it from Lucy who works at Gracie Kellys at The Dynasty. We looked like three strawberries on toothpicks, the helmets were so big!
Lucy was in Australia recently and staying with friends of ours. She came over for dinner. I mentioned I wanted to hire a scooter when we came over. She said she could arrange it. I'm glad I did it through her as I'm a bit worried about hiring one off the street, just in case. I'm sure 99% of the hire companies are fine but I felt better hiring it through her. It cost only 45,000rph per day.
Lucy is a lovely lady and was given a free flight to Australia by The Dynasty so she could improve her English and have a holiday. In return the host family get a week free accommodation. Good for you. Good for me.
Now, to one of the reasons we went to Bali. It was my 40th while we were there and a surprising number of my family thought that they would like to come along.
Raceng arranged cars for everyone and his eldest daughter drove his family to the restaurant. The nasi campur at Alila Ulawatu was the best I have eaten. I thought the best nasi campur I had ever eaten was at The Red Roof Food Market in Penang followed closely by Gurney Drive Hawkers, also in Penang. I was wrong. Raceng informed me it was very traditional and that we wouldn't be able to get it like this in Kuta.
The food came out very quick and then we had desert. Putri, Raceng's wife, was kind enough to make a cake for me. Everyone had seconds. The staff from Alila also made me a cake.
I gave a speech in broken Indonesian and broken English, because I was so emotional......No I wasn't. I had a wonderful night and about the only thing that can bring a tear to my eye is when John WAYNE dies in The Alamo and when my daughter's horse steps on my foot and I'm wearing sandals instead of steel cap boots. But it was a lovely night.
The kids ran around the grounds of the hotel and I checked out the toilets (previous post).
I was asked to sit down while a few speeches were made. My father surprised me by confirming I was adopted. Unfortunately he was kidding. I'd always said for as long as I can remember that I was adopted. Bit hard to deny my parentage when I'm a younger, and some say better looking, version of my father (I think I'm the only one who has ever said that but I'm hoping if I say it enough someone will pick up on it).
Then came the presents. The first thing I received was a yellow Billabong shirt. The next thing I got was a yellow Quicksilver shirt. I picked up there was a bit of a theme developing. Six yellow shirts later.....I got a black Pierre Cardin tie. I've always loved my mother more than anyone else.
I may have mentioned one day at breakfast, to my cousin's husband, that I hate yellow. He may have been wearing a yellow shirt at the time and my cousin may have been a little upset because she thinks yellow suits her husband. Well it sure doesn't suit me and I got what I deserved. Better still I can only re-gift five of them because my sister in law wrote a lovely letter on the back of one. It was addressed to me and signed off 'Suffer in ya jocks'. It'll be a collectors item one day.
Maybe that's why the red shirts hate the yellow shirts in Thailand?
Apparently the whole yellow shirt thing wasn't all that easy to arrange. Apparently yellow shirts aren't all that popular and they had to get them ordered in. I wonder why they're not that popular?
I'll be spending the next twelve months working on ideas how to give them back.
It gets better. The next day at brekky I thought I'd have a giggle at my own expense by wearing one of the shirts to breakfast only to discover that when I turned up, everyone else was wearing yellow shirts. My yellow shirts. My wife had been waiting all morning for me to wake up and choose a shirt to wear so she could sneak them out to everyone else. She was like a naughty little school girl (mental picture) Now we move on......
We must have looked a treat at brekky. Like a vein of gold running through a sea of beige and brown. More like a yellow puss filled vein running through a leg full of gangrene. I really dislike yellow.
And on that note, that's pretty much the trip. We've been back a week and a bit now. I've been back at work two days and we still haven't put away all our clothes. We're already planning the next trip and may even drift across to Gili this time. At least I won't get hit by a car or motor bike over there (A post a couple of years back).
It's been fun putting it all down in words so the wife can see what a mad man she married and the kids can see just how much their dad loves them. I must do because I've blown a hammy carrying all their stuff around Bali for two weeks.
Bye now.
No, Kebo I haven't forgotten.