What’s worse than hearing Country Roads being played for the 440th time, is hearing Dancing Queen being played simultaneously at the same volume by the joint right next door. I had been holed up on my homestay for three days recovering from the flu and needed to get out.
I got a massage from a gentle Balinese man. It wasn’t quite what I had hoped for, but it was after peak massage hours and as far as availability went, he was it. He was a bit too gentle. It was an oily full body massage, and I learnt something about my spectrum. I felt no arousal whatsoever. That’s almost inescapable if there is an extra X chromosome involved.
I was still getting alerts on the dating apps. I had been having pleasant conversation with a local and we exchanged numbers. What happened next was getting spammed with sexy photos and offers for a FOUR-way! Crikey Moses… It was hard to shake the fantasy when I tried to get to sleep before my flight the next day. I did wake up to the peaceful tunes of lovely traditional music being played at the homestay, which included sounds of birdsong.
I giggled at the sunburnt youths wearing Bintang vests and fresh tattoos as we passed through a super scanner at the airport. You hold your hands up as if you’re about to be arrested and get a full body security scan from head to toe by this machine.
The duty free section at Denpasar Airport is like a shopping mall! You have to snake your way through it to get to the boarding gates. I was keen to spend up the last of my Rupiah, but boarding had already opened, so I panicked and bought an oversized chocolate bar. I would have preferred a sandwich for the 4-hour flight.
Before checking in, there were two flustered blonde girls with concerned faces nearby. I was sat next to one on the plane and overheard her on the phone to her sister: “It’s your life. Do what you want. Mom will help.” I asked what had happened. The grounded sister had not included her middle name on her visa application and had been denied. Shame. That’s quite a harsh and unfair lesson to learn!
I don’t think I’ve ever been on an international flight without a crying baby. It must surely be a rule of public aviation that at least ONE baby is required to be on board every flight. There were none to be heard or seen, until the very last person to board had one, which had been preapproved for crying duty… It must have been special ordered at the last minute.
I started dozing off during the safety speech but laughed myself awake after the air hostess asked someone nearby to put their seat upright. He dutifully adjusted it by an inch. I imagined a crash-landing scenario:
Pilot: “Ladies and gentleman aaaaaaa we are going down, but don’t panic. We will be doing a water landing.”
Panicked Passenger: “BUT MY SEAT IS NOT IN THE UPRIGHT POSITION!!?!!”
I’m happily back in Nam for the next 30 days. It was Rush Hour on a late Friday afternoon and the bike traffic was absolute madness! It took 30 minutes to advance 2km by taxi. I walked the last stretch of the way to a venue where I would jump online. This involved walking against traffic, but I confidently went head to head with bikers that were ramping onto the sidewalk.
I had missed the madness and energy of Vietnam.
Previously: Indonesia #12 – Sleepy Sanur
Next: Back in Vietnam
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