Featured Post

Been there, done that, I’ve been to Bali too!

My Home Away From Home

My work colleague Son said she was going to Bali with another colleague Lee and her friend Jill (who I knew), so I invited myself. That brief discussion over afternoon tea in the dining room of the unit we were working in, changed the course of my life. Whilst I imposed myself on them, I know today that Son was glad I did, as she would have had an awful time without me.

I’d been to Singapore twice by then whilst the others hadn’t travelled. So I was the experienced hand leading the way. But Bali in the 80s was no modern Singapore. As we alighted the plane onto the tarmac (no fancy Changi airport terminal) my first thought was ‘f… its hot, those plane engines are pouring out the heat…’ but no it was just Bali weather. We crossed to the shade of the terminal trying not to breathe too deeply due to the smell (a smell I learned to love) and into what was just a big un air-conditioned room.

I have disembarked at Ngurah Rai Airport Bali, more times than I can remember but I will never forget the first. I was so excited and my senses were on fire. The brightly dressed people all offering something, incense burning, the gamelan music, sleeping dogs everywhere… everything I saw was so different to any previous experience. Singapore had been so orderly compared with this seemingly unorganised chaos.The long immigration queue and slowness at the baggage claim didn’t damper my enthusiasm. Although the madness of trying to find our tour guide among a crush of faces and signs did curb my excitement slightly.

Over the years, I have discovered a correlation between surviving the airport and loving Bali. The whiners never enjoy their trip and it will start at the airport. You hear it all the time “…oh my god…what is this place…how slow are they…not like at home…’ How many times have I wanted to turn and say ‘well its a third world country and it’s not home’. I quickly discovered that it’s about immersing yourself into that world. Don’t get upset because things don’t move fast or seem unorganised just slow your breathing, loosen your shoulders and saunter along, and learn about jam karet ‘rubber time’. We all get there in the long run.

I could fill a book with all the stories of Bali – half from the first trip, but suffice to say, Jill and Lee didn’t enjoy it whilst Son and I had the best time. We shopped, toured, body surfed, snorkelled, parasailed, partied, danced, staggered home and fell in love. What more could a couple of young 20 somethings ask for, we were foot loose and fancy free in Bali. We weren’t the first and we won’t be the last to have the “best trip ever…”

Latest Posts