Bali Is Bagus (Bah-Goose)!
We had a blissful morning of relaxation at the villa today. Our villa staff excelled themselves producing the best banana pancakes we’d ever tasted. Served with fruit, toast, bacon and eggs and a home made watermelon/banana frappe, it was such a treat. So delicious! I’m usually the first one up in the AM and in the stillness of the early morning, while dogs bark, it’s amazing to witness the hive of activity going on before everyone rises. The pool cleaner is first on the scene each morning and as the cock crows over our back fence, he diligently plucks frangipani leaves from the pool and puts out fresh towels, sometimes rolled into origami shapes. Next come the cleaners, mopping, wiping and polishing up a storm before the chefs arrive and get to work. As the girls emerge, bleary eyed, one by one, from their bedrooms, they barely have time to plant their derrières on the comfy couch before being asked whether they’d prefer a tea or a coffee today. We could really get used to this!
In the absence of Miss Indonesia, it’s safe to say our plans today were fairly loose so we spent the morning enjoying the glorious pool and villa facilities at the Double V. The banana chairs got a good workout and we all made headway into our novels, Suzie feeling obliged to set aside some time to peruse the Australian Master Tax Guide, since she’d lugged the hefty tome all the way to Bali! Can you believe, Claire and Keryn actually turned up to our holiday with identical reading matter? What are the chances? It’s been a race to see who can finish first. As the morning wore on, Suzie’s attention turned to her writing and she was busy honing her screenplay (“loosely” based on a true story…”6 girls escape the rigours of their busy lives as working mothers to explore the Asian paradise: Bali…” – only the names have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals involved…) making some real progress. You heard it here first.
After swimming and sunning our way through the morning, we somehow summoned enough energy to get ourselves dressed and ready, taking the well trodden, and now familiar path, down Snake Alley to the beach. We thought we might pull up a banana chair at the spectacular W Resort – the one we’d stumbled upon the night we got lost walking home. Now this resort is incredible! The pool itself is a sight to behold with its terraced, lagoon-like shape and infinity edges. All sorts of floating beanbags, curtained cabanas and lounge chairs surround the multi-layered pool deck. As we walked around with our bags and highly conspicuous matching blue and white striped towels, we noticed every other person in the resort had a purple towel. We stuck out like a sore thumb. Greeted by a friendly staff member, we were issued with our own set of purple towels, now conforming with the masses and told we could stay and enjoy all the beautiful facilities as long as we ordered food or drinks from the bar. It’s such a great idea. I really wish the concept would catch on in Australia. Hot pink wristbands – screaming: “I’m not a paying guest” were attached firmly to our wrists to give us access to the pool.
Unfortunately, the weather had turned ominous – black storm clouds mounting all around us. Ann-Maree and I were given a complimentary buggy ride up the tree-lined driveway to the nearest ATM machine and by the time we were escorted back to the other girls, it had started to spit with rain; the conditions not really conducive for swimming and laying by the pool as we’d hoped. The lovely staff member who had welcomed us in, unnecessarily took the responsibility for the barometric goings on upon himself, his guilt over the rain causing him to offer us another poolside day when conditions improved. Given that our lunch had been rather pricy (Suzie’s rice paper rolls an exorbitant 100,000 rupiah) we intended to take him up on his offer.
The Balinese are a deeply religious bunch. Unlike the rest of Indonesia, who has turned almost wholeheartedly to Islam, Bali remains for the most part, Hindu, with a bit of Buddhism thrown into the mix for good measure. There are small, square green baskets filled with fresh flowers, pieces of fruit, bread, burning incense and other suitable offerings, placed in front of every doorway in Bali. They can be found en masse outside temple gates or just individually in random places all over the city. All the online travel guides we read before setting off to Bali, warned us to LOOK DOWN and try to avoid stomping on these little baskets at all costs, avoiding the displeasure of the “gods” and the wrath of the Balinese people. Well, now we are here, we realise this is easier said than done. Each of us has, on occasion, taken one or more of these strategically placed little offerings out, the severity of annihilation varying in degree according to the footwear we are wearing or the angle we come down on it. Luckily these foot faux pas remained mostly unnoticed! Let’s hope they don’t check their cctv footage too scrupulously!
Returning to the villa late in the afternoon, after we’d picked up a few little dresses*, Ann-Maree finished her packing and ordered her departing, airport-bound taxi. It was with heavy hearts and a human archway that we said our goodbyes, praying she’d have a safe trip back to her loved ones in Singapore. This left us all feeling nostalgic and it was for this reason the remaining four of us returned to our old stomping ground, the Mosaic Restaurant, where we had our first meal together as a group.
Speaking of stomping ground, our quickest route to Mosaic was on foot, down the treacherous Snake Alley (only treacherous due to its lack of lights and reputation as a snake playground after dark) and we literally had to stomp the ground to ward off any slimy visitors. I won’t lie, I was worried. Miss Indonesia’s stature had meant she was capable of wielding a torch that shone around for miles. Now without her, we couldn’t quite get the same effect (no offence Keryn!) Stomping my way down the path and having the comfort of Claire’s hand to hold, I was relieved (if not sweating profusely from the vigorous stomping) to come out alive!
Our dinner was magnificent but Claire and I were stung with expensive glasses of wine. It’s not very economical to drink wine in Bali and that’s an understatement. A simple glass of red had cost $16 AUD! We could have bought a whole bottle for that! The waitress had been less than generous in her pouring too, leaving us with not much more than a thimbleful which, needless to say, we sipped very slowly, savouring every drop.
With the gate through Snake Alley firmly locked after 8pm, we rode home, to my relief, the long way ’round, in a taxi, who undoubtedly ripped us off, charging us 40000 rupiah instead of the usual 300000. Had Miss Indonesia been there, we would certainly have challenged the fare but without her, we just copped it sweet. After all, his taxi had had great air conditioning and had smelt like mandarins making it easy to forgive his indiscretion. Returning to the villa, the four of us popped our disco playlist on, donned our cossies and slipped into the pool for a late night spontaneous aqua aerobics session, which in reality, ended up as no more than a long chat with us jumping incessantly up and down like Masai women. As Suzie observed, sitting around all day doing nothing had been expensive!
*this is an in-joke
