Tag: Bali

What a week

Bali

And so it is our last day in Bali.

What a week. We started our holiday in a low key resort by the beach, some nearby shopping, relaxing by the pool. It was calm and peaceful and slowly we got used to taking our time, wandering instead of rushing.

Then to Ubud, and our villa nestled in the paddy fields, the beautiful views and the constant sound of water and birds. Markets, swimming, food, and massages to turn you into a limp noodle.

To experience all of this with two of my best friends has been magic.

For our last night we went for dinner at Honey and Smoke. We had a banquet, with multiple luscious dishes dropped in front of us one by one and cocktails that arrived in a cloud of smoke, with big red chillies, flowers and pieces of seaweed adorning them.

By the end of the night Jen was convinced a bug had flown into her cocktail that turned out to be the remnants of the seaweed, Gab was convinced that no food arriving at our table had been on the menu and I was explaining the nuances of flavours to rival a MasterChef judge. None of us could get on or off our stools, and we all wondered how we were going to balance on the back of the scooters on the ride home. When we did get home Jen found IDR 100.000 stuck to her boob.

You’ll have noted from reading that we’ve been in sync the whole time, happy to just hang with one another. I haven’t even mentioned couples massages, the pesky grasshopper, swimming in our underwear, the restaurant that was never open or our glamour birds nest photos. Some things are best just left.

It’s been wonderful; the people, the landscape, the temples and most of all the company. I admit it, I was wrong to wait so long to go to Bali, or to think I might never go!

And that thing I said before I left, about having curbed my enthusiasm for scooters and batik?

Spectacularly wrong.

Kajeng rice field

Bali

We left the beaches of Bali a few days ago, and are now in Ubud, in a beautiful villa nestled in the paddy fields. In Ubud we have spent lots of time swimming, reading, relaxing by the pool, shopping and having spa treatments.

We’ve been hitching scooter rides to get into town, but yesterday we decided to walk down. There is a short walking track through the Kajeng rice field popular with tourists that starts not far from our villa, so after being reassured by Gab that her ankle would be fine, we set off.

Bali is an absolutely beautiful island. There are waterfalls and streams, beaches, lush forest. As we walked we had the paddy fields spread out around us, rimmed by palm trees and dense tropical greenery. It’s the beginning of the planting season, so the fields were full of water with the bright green stems of early rice only just emerging. The brilliant morning sun made the water glisten. Beautiful.

We chatted, took photos, stopped to look at a small stall of baskets and spotted many birds.

It was flat and easy most of the way. And then we came around a corner to find the path had suddenly narrowed to a small tract of mud with a sheer drop to the side.

Gab reassured us that her ankle was fine, and so on we slithered.

Then we came to an unsecured dodgy looking plank of wood across a gap in the mud path.

‘I’ll go, ‘ I said as I stepped forward, ‘it seems sturdy. Ok no a bit spongey. Walk quickly everybody!’

Then we came to a vertical mud drop in the path.

‘Here…if you hold my hand….just….’

‘I’ve got it….can you just….hold a sec….’

‘Ooh, that gives way.’

‘Maybe if you go down sideways….’

The rice fields were far behind us, we were now at the top of a canyon. Ok maybe more a valley. And even through the treacherous terrain we could appreciate the crystal waterfall tumbling into the verdant gully below.

‘We’re here now,’ Jen reassured us only to find we weren’t at all anywhere.

Another bridge of wonky dodgy wood, an even narrower pathway and an alarmingly steep set of mud steps and finally we emerged into the bustling main street of Ubud.

‘Coffee?’

‘God yes,’ said Gab.

And she doesn’t even drink coffee.

The bird, the monkey and the cockroach

Bali

The Bali wildlife has been engaging us these last few days.

First a bird shat on me at breakfast from the tree above. A big red berry splat that landed on my arm and ricocheted onto Gab. Nothing that couldn’t be solved by all of our napkins, soap and water and a bucketload of sanitiser.

Plus I hear this is meant to be good luck.

Later that day at Uluwatu Temple, as Gab sat minding her own business, a monkey stole her sunglasses from the top of her head. We had been warned about the monkeys, and instructed to remove earrings, hats, sunglasses, scarves and necklaces, and hang on tightly to our phones and bags. Poor Gab was just distracted by another monkey stealing something from another tourist, obviously a diversionary tactic.

Bad luck for Gab, but solved with a little fruit bribery by a local.

And then there was the cockroach.

Now I wasn’t there for the cockroach adventure, but much as I loathe cockroaches, perhaps it would have been better if I had been.

‘It was huge,’ said Gab telling me of her horror at finding a cockroach in the middle of her hotel door when she got back to her room.

‘How big in centimetres,’ I asked.

‘Oh, it was big,’ said Gab, ‘enormous. I couldn’t open my door, so I messaged Jen to come help.’

‘And I brought one of the hotel slippers from the room,’ Jen continued.

‘The thin towelling ones? Why didn’t you bring a proper shoe?’ A thong even? Mortal enemy of the cockroach?’

‘So I had this slipper,’ Jen continued, ignoring my question.

‘No, wait, out of all the things in your room, you thought a flimsy slipper was your best bet? What did you even do with the slipper?’

‘I threw it at the cockroach!’

‘And?’

‘It missed and kind of just fluttered to the ground,’ said Jen, fluttering her hands to demonstrate, ‘like a piece of paper.’

‘Or a flimsy slipper,’ I muttered.

‘So we tried throwing it again,’ Gab picked up the story, ‘but we couldn’t even hit the door with it. Have you ever tried to throw one of those slippers?’

‘No. And the cockroach?’

‘Didn’t move.’

‘And yet you didn’t think to go back and get a decent sized shoe to smack the thing with?’

‘So instead of throwing the slipper,’ Jen went on as if I hadn’t spoken, ‘we thought we’d tap on the door with it, see if we could get the cockroach to scurry away. Tap, tap, tap,’ Jen started acting out tapping on a hotel door with a paper slipper. In case I was confused. I was, but it wasn’t over how one might tap on a door.

‘So how did all that tapping work out for you?’

‘It moved!’ said Gab triumphantly, ‘but just up the door a bit more.’

‘To get further away from the crazy women with the paper slipper perhaps.’

‘So then we didn’t know what to do. We’d exhausted all of our options.’

‘You certainly had,’ I agreed, ‘after all, if you can’t solve your cockroach crisis with a hotel slipper, I don’t know what’s going to work.’

‘We called security!’

Two of the strongest, most capable women I know overcome by a paralysis of incompetence.

‘And then they arrived in hazmat suits…’

‘Really,’ I said, ‘hazmat suits. Exactly how many drinks did you have?’

‘….and plucked the cockroach from the door. Finally I could get into my room.’

‘Thank goodness for security,’ said Jen.

‘Thank goodness,’ I repeated.

‘You should have been there,’ said Gab, shaking her head as she relived the relief at being able to finally access her room.

Maybe I should have. I guess it’s good luck for me that I wasn’t.

Spare a thought

I was thinking to ask you all to spare a thought for Jen.

Every day she has had to endure Gab and me sweeping triumphantly from our rooms to declare ‘I made this!’

This is followed by oohs and aahs, some touching and pirouetting and then an intense discussion on the insertion of pockets, where the fabric was sourced, any pattern adjustments we’ve made and how we might make the garment longer/shorter/lighter next time.

But then last night Jen swept triumphantly from her own room, declaring ‘I bought this!’

She certainly had. She was head to toe in her purchases – headband, stunning dangling earrings, even bigger pendant, fun colourful holiday jumpsuit. And a gleam in her eye – game on.

Please spare a thought for Gab and me.

Beautiful

Bali

‘I really didn’t come to Bali to shop,’ said Jen as we wandered aimlessly around the nearby shopping precinct, ‘I don’t need a new wardrobe.’

‘Same,’ I replied, ‘or souvenirs or anything.’

‘I know, right,’ Gab agreed, ‘we’re not here for shopping.’

‘This shop looks nice, do you want to just have a browse around?’

‘Ok, just for a little OH MY GOD I LOVE EVERY SINGLE THING IN THIS SHOP!’

‘Look at this cushion. No look at this cushion. Look at them together!’ Two cushions!’

‘And this dress! Look at this dress! You could have a cushion AND MATCHING DRESS!’

‘How beautiful are these bowls?’

‘So beautiful. I love this one.’

‘I love THIS one. So beautiful.’

‘Over here, have you seen the sarongs?’

‘Not yet, but have you seen the peacocks?’

‘PEACOCKS?! Oh my God they’re so beautiful.’

‘Oh, look, these dresses are gorgeous. Look at this one! No, look at this one! Oh, look at this one! I LOVE THEM ALL.’

‘Have we seen these shirts already?’

‘Maybe? Is this still the same shop?’

‘Look at this. No seriously look at this. LOOK AT THIS!’

‘Is this a bird? This is a bird. I would definitely buy this.’

‘This shop is never ending. Where’s Jen?’

‘I don’t know. Where are we? Where did we come in? I LOVE THIS FABRIC!’

‘It’s beautiful. Touch it!

‘Beautiful.’

‘It comes in a bag! The bag is beautiful!’

‘Where’s the front door? I can no longer see the outside. Ooh, these shorts are cute.’

‘So cute. These giraffes are cute.’

‘So cute.’

‘There’s Jen.’

‘Where’s Gab?’

‘She was just here. Oh my God, that top would look amazing on you.’

‘It comes in a dress too.’

‘Beautiful.’

‘Oh, I haven’t seen these pants before. Hey, are we in the same shop?’

‘There’s Gab.’

‘We’re definitely lost. Wait, look at this gorgeous fabric, look at the beautiful box it comes in. LOOK AT IT!’

‘Beautiful.’

‘There’s the exit.’

‘Ok you wait outside, I’ll go back and find Jen.’

‘Jen, there you are OH MY GOD LOOK AT THESE SARONGS.’

‘Beautiful. Here’s that beautiful shirt again.’

‘Ooh, and the dress.’

‘These shorts, they’re so soft! LOOK! LOOK! So blue!’

‘So beautiful.’

‘Where’s Gab?’

‘Oh I forgot, she’s outside.’

‘Here’s the exit, here’s Gab.’

‘We should come back here tomorrow, I could use a new wardrobe.’

‘We definitely should.’

‘Ok.’

I’ve been to Bali too

I cannot believe it, but I am going to Bali.

I always said I had no interest in going to Bali. I was no longer a carefree backpacker, I have mostly given up partying like it’s 1999 and I have curbed my enthusiasm for riding scooters and buying batik. Yet here I am at the airport, waiting for a flight to Bali.

There are three of us going on this holiday. Jen, Gab, me.

You may remember Disco Jen from such posts as The Entourage. She is mad strong and helped me hoist kettlebells back when we used to do things like hoist kettlebells.

You may remember Gab from such posts as Gab’s issues. She is mad skilled at attracting travel drama, and is almost certainly the cause of Madonna and my cancelled flights to New Zealand.

I offered Gab and Jen at least twelve beaches and islands that we might visit as an alternative, but they were pretty keen on Bali. Jen reminded me that we are adults and we don’t have to stay in hostels and we don’t have to go to party central. We can find a beautiful beach, visit the gorgeous mountains, eat the fabulous food and wind our way through the more peaceful sights of Bali. We can relax, swim, read, eat, shop, visit day spas and just hang out in the sun with one another.

It was a pretty convincing argument.

So I have dusted off my shells and beads, packed my shorts and frocks and am on my way to Bali, with almost zero preparation.

Actually I lie, we’ve done a little bit of prep. Gab and I have filled all of our spare time sewing outfits for around the pool. Jen has sent multiple TikTok Bali tips to the group chat.

And Gab broke her ankle. Because, you know, Gab’s issues.