I’m sleep deprived this morning. I tried & failed to sleep in. It just can’t be done. I woke before my alarm again. Drawing back the curtains on the balcony doors, the sky is blue & the foliage is still. The birds aren’t – chirpy as ever.
I need to get a hurry on, I’m changing rooms this morning so I can have a late check out. I get ready for breakfast & make my way down Kosiosko to the pool with my towels to reserve a sun lounger – damn they’ve been quick this morning. I reserve one of the few left, which will be in full sun in an hour or two. Onto the hotel restaurant. Lots of new faces this morning. I can’t help hearing the conversation from the table behind me – there is an Eddie The Expert among them who can top every comment said with a bigger & better version starring himself. I expected this man to be as thin as a rake because he didn’t draw breath long enough to eat anything! I tried to bury myself in my eBook while I ate. I took some photos of the greedy turtles on my past.
Back in my room, I pack everything up & leave the luggage near the door. At reception I’m given the key to my new room. The room is next to reception, beneath my previous bedroom. It’s a triple room, with barely a foot between the beds. There is a cabinet, bar fridge & tv, wardrobe & bathroom. The bath has been removed, but the taps are still there & it’s a slightly recessed rectangular shower now. The room smells musty & like moth balls. I doubt it’s used often. I turn the AC on & open a window. When my luggage comes, I unpack my orange spray & spray liberally in the room. Then I change into my bathers & sarong. Where’s noodle? I must have left it upstairs. Up Kosiosko just as I thought it was a peak I would not have to scale again. The door is open & I call out but no one is there. There is cleaning paraphernalia near the door. I walk into the bedroom – no noodle. I must have left it at the pool the other day. Bugger. I hope no one pinched it.
Down by the pool I plonk down my bag on the lounger. All this running around has made me hot! I need a swim. There’s noodle! Consorting with the other run down noodles. I quickly rescue it & climb into the pool. It’s gorgeous in the water. I float around aimlessly for ages. Wheelie comes out of her room & takes up residence in my favourite lounger. We exchange pleasantries as another couple on the next two loungers gather their things & leave. I ask wheelie to throw something on one to save it until I get my towels from the other side of the pool. Nearly perfect. This is my 3rd favourite pozzy. After I’ve been writing for a while, one of the other seniors, near my old room comes over, excited to see my new teeth. Impressed. She remarks a few times throughout the day that I’m smiling a lot more.
I’m in & out of the pool all morning & most of the afternoon. I had a poolside lunch of a cheeseburger with egg, which was admired & subsequently ordered by some of the seniors. I floated, swam, talked, laughed & throughly enjoyed my last day in Bali.
Back in my pongy room, I lay down for 1/2 hour to recharge myself & my iPhone. I then had a shower which was shorter than I wanted because the drain was slow & I came close to flooding the bathroom floor. Back in the room, the smell was giving me a headache. I repacked, locked my cases & went to reception to settle my bill. For americanising my continental breakfast, the other meals I had in the hotel restaurant & poolside, the additional service tax, the late check out plus the 3% surcharge for paying by credit card, my hotel bill came to the princely sum of $135. I had some goodies that I’d bought & not packed which I gifted to a nearby senior, together with noodle, who will no longer be colour coordinated but put to good use.
I revisited the Art Cafè. I wanted a hearty meal that was unlikely to send me running to the toilet on the plane. I ordered a citrus & ginger spritzer, chicken Kiev & nougat parfait again. Tried & true favourites of mine. I realised as I was scratching that I hadn’t sprayed any mosquito repellant before leaving. I’m very tasty to mozzies this year. Walking back down Bumi Ayu I ran into a couple more seniors & bid them farewell.
My driver taking me to the airport was in the hotel carpark, ready & waiting. I sat up front while he loaded my luggage. The roads were busy, as was the airport. I spent 1.5 hours queuing.
Queue no. 1 was to xray all my belongings
Queue no. 2 was to get my boarding pass & lodge my suitcase
Queue no. 3 was to have my boarding pass scanned, which merged into a queue to have all our belongings xrayed again (which makes zero sense), walk through a metal detector & join a queue for customs. My legs were killing me & I was desperate to sit down.
Once through customs, I ignored all the outrageously priced duty free shops, looking for a seat & a drink. I cut through the Hard Rock Cafè shop into the restaurant, cutting off 100-200m off my walk around, plonked onto a chair & ordered a can of Diet Pepsi. A ridiculously expensive drink coming in at $6, but I needed to sit down & rest my legs.
Airport prices are just over the top expensive & there is no real need for it – it’s taking advantage of a captive audience, motivated by greed.
We were boarding at gate no. 9, a long walk even with the travellators. A toilet pitstop, a small queue here & at the boarding gate, another queue to have my handbag searched & another again to await the boarding call. Finally I was on board, a kind man put my cabin luggage in the overhead compartment & I gave myself a near seatbelt enema collapsing onto the seat. I’m stuffed, it’s past my bedtime & something metallic needs removing from underneath me. Finally we were all aboard but sat there for 15 mins past our scheduled take off time. Our flight was going to be just over 5 hours long, which is a bonus. Must be quicker travelling downhill.
It is freezing on board. I wrap my blanket around my shoulders, wishing I’d had the forethought to unpack my jacket & Skechers from my cabin luggage before boarding. I intermittently doze & read my eBook. I can’t find a comfy position for my head. I’m too short for my head to fit comfortably within the parameters of the headrest. My pillow keeps slipping down to the floor if I rest it on the window. My pony tail is not in a good spot. Four hours into the flight, breakfast is served. Me first. I have a GF meal. Big mistake. Revolting. I barely ate any of it. Again, I’d been given one size fits all – margarine & no salt. My meal flying to Bali was excellent. Too bad they are so inconsistent. Our pilot advises us as we begin our descent that it is 5 degrees Celsius in Melbourne. Joy! The sun starts rising as we fly through & below the clouds & by the time we’ve landed & taxied to the airport proper, daylight arrives. The bong of the seatbelt sign turning off is a signal to most to bound out of their seats and block the aisle. Whilst waiting, I open my cabin bag & rescue a very welcome jacket.
A bit of a walk to customs. My passport successfully scans in the self service queue. Hooray. I’m down to the luggage carousel & in one revolution, my suitcase appears. I scoop it up & join the…you guessed it…queue to show my declared goods. When I reach an officer, he waves me through uncontested. At the one & only exit is a gaggle of luggage trolleys manned by Japanese tourists waiting for their friends and completely blocking the exit for everyone in the process. A customs official comes over to tell them to move. They look bewildered. As I am the first person behind them, I point to the exit & command that they move it, in my ‘she who must be obeyed’ voice. Seems it doesn’t only work on dogs. They began to hustle. Welcome to Australia. I found a seat outside, opened my suitcase to get my coat & swapped thongs for Skechers. I rang the parking bus to come & get me & didn’t have to wait long after walking well out of my way to the area I needed to be in for collection. Again, why build such a long fence that cannot be traversed. Wouldn’t a pedestrian crossing with a traffic light make more sense opposite the international terminal? Idiots.
I’m dropped off at the carpark & pick up my car. My GPS gives a couple of silly suggestions to get on the freeway. I’m wise to it, reading overhead signs before I believe it. It did the same on the Bolte Bridge to get on the M1. I’m home by 9am. I’m relieved that my fish didn’t die & top up the water. In bed by 10am & up again at noon to collect my dogs. So tired. When I get back on the freeway I can see from the on ramp that traffic is almost at a standstill but too late to take an alternate route. What the? After crawling for several kms I see that the only reason for the snail pace is a car sitting at right angles on the median strip & a police car with flashing lights along side it. Bloody rubberneckers! I wanted to give them a Bali toot or two to get a move on, as my ‘she who must be obeyed voice’ doesn’t seem to work inside my car no matter how loudly I say it or punctuate it with swearing. There folks, is the reason I probably shouldn’t get a dash cam! I make it to the pet sitter intact, my boys joyous to see me. As I bundle them into the car, Dougal makes a bolt for one last frolic up the drive. My ‘she who must be obeyed’ voice stops him in his tracks & he double backs smartly. We’re back home in just under 20 mins & I’m back in bed shortly after with 2 small poodles at my feet. Happy to snuggled in my own bed again.
Thank you for travelling with me, your kind words & suggestions are appreciated.
No seniors were harmed in the creation of this blog.
Until next time…..
Ciao for now,