Back to the Mainland

The day finally comes when my mom and I return to the mainland.  After the tranquility of Nusa Lembongan, Sanur is a shock to the system.  It's loud and dirty and full of people.  We arrive at our home stay and although it's only $25 a night for a room, it's awful compared to our other rooms in the same price range.
We walk down the boardwalk and grab lunch.  All the restaurants are American-ized chains and the street vendors are ruthless.  A woman offers to give my mom and I massages and gestures to a dank alley.
"Where do you do that actual massage?" my mom asks.
The woman shows us a small dirty room, it's slightly terrifying.  Another woman really wants to cornrow my hair, I venomously shake my head no.  We continue walking and they all shout lower prices at us and follow us down the beach.  We end up making appointments at The Nest, a more upscale (but still affordable) spa.
We walk up and down the boardwalk, my mother desperately searching for the hotel in which Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall tied the knot.  It doesn't seem to be anywhere and the vendors are becoming more pushy, following us for ages even when we ignore them, yelling after us, trying to usher us into shops and towards stalls.  Clearly it is off-season and the hordes of Balinese women who sit smoking clove cigarettes on the streets, perk up as we pass and call, "Massage miss?"
My mom begins answering their questions in Italian, a genius move that actually deters them.  We finally find the hotel, but it's all private residence and the security guy refuses to let us down the driveway.  We walk back to the beachside and are able to see into the grounds, they're quite picturesque, an ideal venue for a rockstar.

We found it!!!

Dinner time rolls around and at this point, we are so sick of rice and noodles that we decide to splurge on Italian food.  We find a spot that has a pretty legit menu so we decide to spend the $10 for a plate of pasta (still a steal of a deal compared to the astounding Australian prices.)  We are also so tired of drinking Bintang that we decide vino is a necessary accompaniment to our supper.  Here's the catch: imported wine is ridiculously pricey.  Our waitress tells us a glass of wine is $10, but thankfully, this restaurant is BYOB.  I run down to the bottle shop hoping for better luck, but even a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz is marked at $45.  I end up spending $32 on an Indonesian cab sav.  My mom and I grimace at the first sip, but by the end of the bottle we're both remarking, "Hmm, this is not half bad!" (funny how that happens.)
I am thoroughly enjoying my dinner, gnocchi in a gorgonzola sauce, (even though my dad's is obviously way better) until a massive rat runs in off the street and scurries under our table and close to our feet.  I scream and hyperventilate and dry heave all at the same time.  Thanks a lot Mr. Rat.

We're not really feeling the vibe in Sanur so my mom suggests we try Seminyak instead.
It's very different from all the places we've visited so far, it's extremely commercial with a lot of posh restaurants and resorts, it's chalked full of tourists and it seems more family oriented.  The beach is nice, but pales in comparison to some of the others we've seen.
My mom's excited because she's found a great Expedia deal for one of the pricier boutique resorts in town and she insists we book it and tells me she'll pay the difference (at this point I'm on a pretty tight budget after all my previous splurging.)  After all, she will be flying out a couple days before me and wants to be certain I'm 'somewhere clean and safe.'
When we arrive at Mutiara Boutique Resort and Spa, my jaw drops.  It's a real hotel with a massive pool beneath beautiful frangipani trees; the rooms have cable; the beds have actual down comforters rather than just itchy sheets; and there's a mini fridge AND a kettle.  It's pretty luxe, to say the least.
I accompany my mom as she picks up some souvenirs in the markets and we hangout at the beach a little.

The next day my mom really wants to go to this bar and restaurant called Potato Head.  The description in Lonely Planet makes it sound pretty trendy, so I make a small effort to dress up.  When our hotel shuttle drops us off, we are taken by golf cart down a massive private driveway surrounded by palms.  When we do finally arrive, the outside of the bar looks like a colosseum made entirely of different coloured window shutters.  We walk up the looping walkway and come out into an opened bar with it's own private pool and beach.  The hostess tells us the couches by the pool are at a 3 hour wait, but we are welcome to sit on one of the mats on the grass... we do the latter.
The cocktail list is 12 pages long (yet they still don't have Caesars!!!) and the only food they serve is overpriced tapas.  I get a Passionfruit Pimms Cup and my mom orders some sort of fancy daiquiri.  The drinks take 20 minutes to make and arrive in things like conch shells and coconuts... they're not messing around here.  We bask in the setting sun and watch the beautiful people get buzzed by the pool.  There is a massive group of Aussie men sitting on the couches directly in front of us, the seem to be a bucks party and we can't help but take notice of their drinking... they down bottle after bottle of champagne, order every kind of cocktail, have bottle service, Greygoose and soda no less.  My mom wonders aloud how they're keeping themselves so composed.
I shrug, "They're Australian, they know how to drink."
After the fourth 40 of vodka, they're starting to get a little loose.  A member of the security team has to come over and speak to them, but they hand him a big tip and he shakes their hands and leaves them to it.  One of the guys disappears for a while and reappears with three young Korean women clad only in tiny bikinis.  They each pick a man and straddle him, putting on a sort of lap dance.  They cuddle with their respective men, but do not speak and are not offered a drink.  They are clearly prostitutes.  When the three men (one of which I assume is the groom) disappear with the girls, I can't help but feel a little sick to my stomach.
Once the sun sets, we take off in search of some affordable food to chase our overpriced cocktails.

The day finally comes for my mom and I to part ways and I try not to cry when I walk her to her cab and give her a hug.
"I wish you were flying back to Canada with me," my mom sniffles and I can't help but to feel the same way.  But I know I still have unfinished business in Australia.  We say our goodbyes and I retreat to my room, feeling the full weight of loneliness.

~~~

Luckily for me, I don't have to stay in solitude for long.  My friend Katlyn is in Canggu and her boyfriend Seb is leaving the morning after my mom's flight.  Since there is an extra bed in my room and we're both flying solo now, we agree that she will come stay after dropping Seb off at the airport.  

After a stressful and hectic day, Katlyn climbs into the pool and the two of us get to gabbing.  We take it easy and go to bed early and then the next day set off to make the most of our remaining day together.  We have an awesome breakfast and head to Medewi (although no one can seem to agree on the spelling) so that Katlyn can book a home stay for when I leave.  I climb onto the back of scooter and am amazed as she confidently whizzes and flies through traffic.  Katlyn, you are a bad ass bitch, I admire you every day.

She eventually finds a gorgeous room in Seminyak and the two of us are off to Tanah Lot Temple to spend the day revelling in the spiritual splendour.  On our way back into town, the scooter lurches and we nearly both bail.  Katlyn manages to get us onto the shoulder of the road and we discover the issue: the tire has burst.  We push the now heavy bike into the nearest town and are ecstatic when we discover there is a bike shop only a few minutes away.  The price for an entire new tire?  $5.  In no time at all we're back on the road. 

We grab some bakso street soup and go for a sunset swim, then the rain begins and we take refuge in a tacky Mexican cantina before heading out for a quick shisha.  

From there, I face another tough goodbye (accompanied with a 'see you soon') and before I know it I'm boarding my flight, resolved on returning to Indonesia and seeing everything else it has to offer outside of Bali.

It's been a trip.  Thanks mom for helping to make it happen.

Lombok, Gilli and Nusa, oh my!

We leave Ubud and begin our journey towards Lombok.  My mom and I both agree that we're willing to spend the 4 hours on the public ferry in order to save the $45+.
Of course, our slightly sketchy cab driver drops us off in front of this tiny tourism shop and as soon as we exit the cab a group of men surround us, take out bags, usher us into a tiny office and begin insisting I sign something.
"Wait, how much is it?" I ask.
"$45 each," one answers.
"No, no, no, we want the public ferry!"
"Yes, slow boat miss."
"That is way too much money, we were told the public ferry is $6."
"Yes, $6 but then we provide transport to Senggigi."
"But we want to go to Kuta first."
"Nothing in Kuta, you must hurry, we must go now, boat leaves in 5 minutes."
My mom and I both know the ferry leaves in 20 minutes and that these guys are full of shit, but being surrounded by them while they all scream in our face at once, telling us how we must hurry, I feel chaotic and so confused that they almost successfully bamboozle us.
We tell them no and they continue to yell at us that there is no other ferry and if we don't leave now the next one isn't until 2:00 and that we're wrong and don't know anything.
We leave the shop and one of them actually follows us down the road still yelling at us and furiously dropping his original price.  I try to stay cool and be firm, but I'm about to lose my temper, thankfully he finally gives up.  We walk directly to the large vessel which is so obviously the public boat and experience similar situations in the 200 metres to the ticket office.  We finally make it and buy our legitimate tickets at a cool $3 a pop, but once onboard my mom immediately gets ripped off.
She hands me a cup of the shittiest instant coffee I'd had yet and when I try to throw it out she is horrified, "Do you know how much that cup of coffee cost? $6!"
"What?!  You got had!!"
"Well I can't haggle with them, it'd be like trying to haggle on BC Ferries."
"You wouldn't haggle anywhere in Canada, it's different here... He saw you, one of the only white women on this boat, he named an exorbitant price and you actually paid it.  Were there prices listed anywhere?"
"No..."
"There you go..."
Oh mom, I love you to pieces but you're too nice!

The ferry itself is very basic, picture the Gabriola boat but with no indoor seating, just these kind of spongy raised platforms where everyone sleeps.  The toilets are holes, no sink, no toilet paper.  I'm not too fussed, the ferry from South to North Island in New Zealand was the same length and time flew by on it.  But in the meantime, we overdose on Gravol and pass out.

Lombok

We disembark on Lombok and before we get swarmed by taxi drivers, my mom and I agree on a price to Kuta.  The bus is $15 each so we think $30 is fair.
A guy offers to take us for $35.
"$30," I say firmly.
"$35," he counters with determination.
"Okay, then we'll take the bus."
"There is no bus!"
"Well, we'll find out for ourselves," I reply, walking away.
"Okay fine, $30."
No more Miss Nice Fran!

We get to Kuta and it's beautiful.  Turquoise water in a half moon bay, just as Lonely Planet promised.  It's virtually deserted and we check into a home stay across from the beach for a mere $15 a night.  We go for a swim, but because the sandbar is so far out, all the bay water is uncomfortably warm.  We sit on the beach and an old lady cosies up to my mom.  She's selling bracelets and sarongs that she swears, (along with everyone else selling shit on the beach) were made by her grandmother.
My mom initially says no, but engages in conversation with her.  She is really pushing these bracelets and my mom finally relents and buys a few at an inflated price.  She, wrongfully, assumes that'll be the end of it, but now the lady is forcefully pushing the sarongs and why not?  As I explain to my mom later, she's already convinced her to buy something she didn't want, surely she can do it again.
My mom escapes for a swim and the woman turns to me, but I put in my headphones and ignore her.
Do I feel like a bitch?  Sure, but it works.  The lady sees a while couple and chases them down the beach.

Gilli T

We spend another day relaxing and then we're off to the Gilis.  We share a car with 3 people - an Aussie bloke, a German girl and a Latvian chick who are headed up Mount Rinjani.  My phone is dead so I'm stuck in the back eating pizza flavoured shapes and listening to their inane conversation.  We finally make it to Bengsal and, after some confusion, find the ticket office and purchase our slow boat tickets for $2.  It fills up fast so we don't have to wait long.  We arrive on Gilli T and begin wandering in search of accommodation.  A guy at the docks tells us to go to his home stay because it's only $30 a night.  We head in the direction he tells us and never do end up finding it, but instead stick out heads into Hakuna Matata.  The Finnish owner Rebecca and her Indonesian boyfriend Joe are the loveliest hosts and our room is quaint AND equipped with AC.  $25 a night is the price, perfect.

Hakuna crew

We head to Horizontal Lounge and claim a couple bean bags on the beach.  When I complain that I need some shade my mom looks at me like I'm crazy.  By the time I get home, I already look like a lobster.  I traipse along the dirt road clutching a sarong around me in respect to the many "NO BIKINI ON THE STREETS" signs, while drunk tourists stumble about and the call to prayer booms through the speakers.  If there was ever a more profound clash of cultures, I haven't seen it.

Tired of Indonesian food my mom and I go out for sushi (surprise surprise, it sucks) and as it's happy hour, we get three drinks for the price of two.  Before long I'm seriously buzzed and getting tired of fighting off the vivacious flirtation from the local bartenders.  One makes me a butterfly out of a napkin and sultrily tells me, "Welcome to Freedom Island."  Later on he tries to convince me to come out and party with him.  Instead, my mom and I watch the 'Play for your Country Beer Pong Tournament' (which I can proudly report, Canadians are absolutely dominating) and then grab some take away drinks and stroll the streets.  Everywhere we went the Indonesian men address my mom as 'mother' much to her annoyance.
"Hi Mother,"
"Yes Mother,"
"How are you Mother?"
I begin saying she's my sister.
They also like to address her in this way while basically complimenting her on creating an attractive child.
"Mother, your daughter is so beautiful!"
Sometimes they would just cat call me directly, but mostly it was in this weird passive manner.
The streets of Gilli are too wild for us so we head home.

The next day we rent bikes and snorkel gear and cycle the entire island while stopping every so often to snorkel.  We see heaps of florescent fish in the reef, but sadly, no turtles.
We hit the sunset bar, but the clouds roll in, obscuring the view and soon all the beach go-ers are running for cover beneath the sudden torrential downpour (that lets up just as quickly as it begins.)

We hit the fish market and have skewered tuna and sample a buffet of tasty local dishes, washed down with Bintang and followed by gelato.
I want to go to bed, but my mom makes fun of me ("For God's Sake Francesca, it's 8:15 on a saturday night!")
So we stroll the strip and my mom insists we stop for foot massages (her treat!)
My masseuse asks where we're from and when we say Canada, he says, "My brother lives there!"
"Really?!" I ask, gullible as always.
"Yah, his name is Justin Bieber!"
My mom is delighted, any excuse for her to discuss her love and pride for Biebs...
I don't really enjoy my massage.  My masseuse spends the entire time mercilessly hitting on me and complimenting the shape of my legs.  At this point, I'm actually sick to death of being hit on.

Eventually our time on Gilli T comes to an end and we book our fast boat directly to Nusa Lembongan.

Nusa Lembongan

We finally make it to our hotel and go to take a shower, the tap water is clearly treated ocean water and leaves our skin feeling of wax, also, the power is down.  We go out for dinner and dine at Heroes, the most delicious warung we've been to yet.  

The next day we walk almost the entire island and stop for some tasty sushi at Mama Mia restaurant overlooking the seaweed farms before checking out the infamous yellow bridge.

We get home and go for a swim and I manage to step on a black sear urchin.  It feels like getting stung by seven bees at once and my skin immediately turns black where I've been pricked.  I try to get the spines out, but they are fragile and break off in my skin.  I freak out and immediately assume I'm going to have to have my foot amputated.  My mother tries to remove the spines with a pin and I try to act brave and hide the fact that tears are pouring down my face.  

Thankfully, it feels better by the time I go for my first dive the next day.  The other pupil doesn't show so I have the instructor all to myself, I'm delighted for two reasons, one: I'm certain I'll need the extra help and two: I secretly have a massive crush on him.  

Practicing in the pool is weird at first especially with so little space while breathing in and out of the mask feels unnatural.  We head out into the ocean and when we begin to submerge, I freak out and return to the surface.  I feel claustrophobic and fearful and as if I'm not getting enough air into my lungs.  I tear up and declare that I don't think I can do it.  Luckily, my instructor talks me through it and we slowly submerge together.  I'm having trouble with my buoyancy, so he holds my hand while we swim (it's super romantic.)

We see amazing coral reefs and many amazing fish (lion fish, clown fish, unicorn fish, just to name a few!)  I'm grateful for the experience, but can't help but feel relieved when we return to the surface.  

We say our goodbyes to the lovely island and return to the mainland to rap up our trip.

***Note: Anytime I mention money it's already been converted into Canadian/Australian dollars

Brisbane to Bali

I stagger off the plane in a daze.  The air is humid and heavy, I couldn't sleep on the plane and I'm still tired from the previous night's celebrations.  After waiting what feels like a lifetime for my luggage I walk through the gates and see my sweet momma.  She's all smiles as she hugs me tightly and fights back tears, we briefly catch up while we wait for the shuttle to our nearby hotel.  The first thing I do when we get there is slam a Bintang and go for a dip in the pool.

The next day we walk around a little, to say Bali is beautiful is an understatement.  Everything is colourful and ornate and offerings fill the streets; every building I pass or statue I gaze at is an artful masterpiece and the air is rich with the scent of cooking rice, flowers and incense.  We take a cab to Balangan Beach to our next destination, the Flower Bud Bungalows and upon arriving our jaws drop.  We're in a little wooden thatched hut with a large pillow laden front porch, massive canopy bed and private outdoor shower and bathroom, not to mention the awesome infinity pool and large picturesque grounds.  We settle in and explore the beach for sunset, stopping at one of the beach side restaurants for some gado-gado.

In the morning we have breakfast and wait for the rain to let up.  We're torn... we want to go to Uluwatu temple and beach, it's only 20 minutes away and we don't want to hire a taxi, so after talking to Katlyn, who insists it's easy, we rent a scooter.  My mom hesitantly agrees but only if I drive and she doubles on the back.  I decide to go on a little test drive first, I mean, if a 10 year old boy with two other children and several cages full of chickens can do it, surely I can too.  The guy asks if I've ever ridden before and when I shrug and shake my head, he looks horrified.  I take off down the road and it's an absolute blast!  I zoom around for a while and return, insisting my mom jump on the back.  She nervously climbs on and right away my balance is off.
Then it starts to rain, a lot.
Then there is the fact that neither of us actually knows where we're going.
My mother's safety is entirely in my hands and it's a lot of pressure.  In the end, she offers to pay for the cab and I gladly agree.
We arrive at the temple, it's lovely, built amongst the cliffs and overlooking the stunning sea, we wander around for a while before going to grab lunch.  I order something with the description of 'chicken balls and rice' and when it comes out it's literally chicken soup... the last thing I want in this heat.  Luckily my mom feels generous and shares her lunch with me.

We get to Uluwatu Beach and it exceeds all our expectations.  We descend down the hundreds of steps carved into the rock face and nestled in the landings are shops and restaurants galore.  The beach at the bottom is relatively small and surrounded by cliffs and caves, the water is glowing turquoise.  We swim for a while then retreat to Single Fin for a beer.

We head home and check out Padang Padang on the way but we're on a time crunch... My dear friend Katlyn is meant to meet us at our place by 4:00.  We arrive about five after and are informed that she is already waiting at the restaurant for us.  Seeing her is unreal!  It's as if no time has passed at all.

We catch up over nasi goreng at the beach.  A tiny puppy is sleeping on the bench next to Katlyn and upon arrival of our food he looks up curiously.
"What's the dog's name?" she asks the server.
"Randy," he answers and she repeats.  All the Indonesian men burst out laughing.  For the remainder of our meal we all coo to the puppy,
"Hi Randy!"
"Come here Randy!"
to the amusement of the men.  Eventually one of them informs us the dog is named Lodi and the man is Randy, he misunderstood the question.  Now it's our turn to laugh.
We part ways and promise to meet up again.  My mom and I hangout on the porch with our adopted dog my mom has lovingly named "Jenny from the block."

That night we are both awoken to what can only be described as the most graphic cat sex occurring directly outside our window.  This is my first experience hearing cats at their most intimate and I hope it is my last...

~~~

Ubud

The next day we take a cab to Ubud.  Our driver is nice and knowledgeable and on the way we stop to see people creating traditional batik, silver jewelry and my favourite stop: a coffee plantation where we sample all the coffees and teas while sheltered from the pouring rain.  We even try the Luwak coffee - an interesting process in which this raccoon/possum creature supposedly eats the 'freshest, choicest berries' digests only the skin and passes the bean in a natural fermentation process.  Apparently this coffee is the smoothest and healthiest.  I love coffee, even if it comes from an animals bum, so why not give it a try.  It's alright, bitter and kind of smooth, not an experience I'd shell out $5 to repeat.  Our driver jokingly calls it 'Cat-Poo-Chino.'

We fight through traffic and finally make it to our destination: an exuberant and huge family compound next to the river.  We join them for a family dinner in which they briefly explain Balinese culture and tradition and let us loose on a Balinese buffet.  I eat three huge platefuls and dub the other guests as lightweights.

On our balcony

Our beautiful home stay

In the morning, we're off to the Monkey Forest.  It's cool at first, the monkeys are cute and playful, but then several buses arrive carrying hordes of tourists and the monkeys become agitated.  One climbs on my lap and when my mom pulls out her camera he jumps on her and begins ripping things from her purse.  I manage to scare him off but as I walk away he dives at my calf and bites down hard.  Thank God I'm wearing jeans and he doesn't break the skin.  Rabies shots: Ain't no one got time for that.

The novelty has waned so we go for lunch and a massage.  Waiting at the spa, a chatty German guy with a weird beard mentions he's also a massage therapist and asks if we want our massages from him.  We are confused... does this dude even work here?!  Our answer is a resounding NO!

The massage is nice... it's difficult to relax over the noise of the local roosters, traffic and the blaring music straight off the Cabaret soundtrack.  We complete our pampering by dressing up, and going out for a nice sit down dinner which we wash down with 2 for 1 watermelon mojitos.  I feed a skinny puppy my prawn crackers and even he looks confused about whether or not they're food.
"You should have saved some chicken for him," my mom scolds, but Francesca doesn't share delicious food... not even with adorable dogs.

~~~

We wake up on Valentines Day to a torrential downpour so we laze about for a while drinking excessive amounts of coffee before finally bearing the weather and going for a nice stretch at Yoga Barn.  

That night we catch a 'Traditional Balinese Fire Dance' at the nearby temple.  They are enacting an epic Hindu story, but even with reading the summary printed on the pamphlet I'm a little lost on the story line.  The costumes are insane, the chorus of chanting Balinese men is the best part, their booming voices match the mood of the play perfectly.  The fire dancing is a little disappointing, the guy literally kicks around a pile of embers causing the audience to choke on the thick smoke and dodge the oncoming flying embers.  I walk away happy for the experience, but convinced the show could have been shorter.

The video is terribly quality but worth watching just to hear the chorus

~~~

At 2:00 am we are up and dressed and sitting on the side of the street, waiting for our driver to take us up to Mount Batur.  We climb in the van and join the other groggy travelers: 2 Danes and 2 Chileans.  We stop and they feed us a hasty breakfast of one banana crepe each.  

At the base we join our guide and set out, flashlights in hand, up the path.  The night is crystal clear and the stars glisten, further up the hill we can see the bouncing torchlight of the other trekkers; it's magical.  

We approach a small shrine and all the guides halt their groups and take a moment to kneel and pray, asking for a safe journey to the top.  

The first part is fairly flat and easy, the second part soon becomes steep and treacherous.  I worry about my mom who is starting to struggle, our 5' tall guide, Sueli, tells our two Irish companions to carry on without us, we stop for a few short breaks and then she literally drags my mom up the mountain.  She's going up this mountain with us, like it or not!  Sueli's 12 year old cousin is on the trek selling water to tourists and she and I occasionally yell encouragements.  I try to motivate my mom by pointing out that a 3 year old is also on the hike... she doesn't find this information helpful.  

We make it up for sunrise and what can I say?  It's worth it all.  There's something extra special about sunrises for me, maybe it's the promise of a new day, maybe it's because I'm never normally up early enough to catch them.  We thank our good luck for such a clear day, we can actually see all the way to Lombok!

Our guide makes us eggs using the sulphur steam and also gives us warm banana sandwiches which I share with the dogs and monkeys, until they start climbing all over me again.  We see a cave and are told that it contains a shrine more than 100 meters in.  

We begin our descent, it's hot and hard on my knees, but there are still beautiful views to be seen.  Back in the car, everyone sleeps, except me and a Danish guy who play a heated game of Uno.  He starts shamelessly hitting on me ("Wow, your eyes are so beautiful...blue like the ocean..." excuse me while I vomit in my mouth) he insists I add him on Facebook (Spoiler alert: I don't.)  I awkwardly try to figure out if his sleeping female companion is his girlfriend or just a friend.  

We return to our home stay 8 hours later, eat more and pass out.

Our hiking crew

Look out for that monkey mom!

~~~

We hire a cab for the day, I even talk his price down by $5!  A small victory, but huge for me.  I'm getting better at haggling!  I use the phrase Tyler taught me, "Sing-la-piss!" - "I have no money!" and the driver loves it.  He bursts out laughing and says, "Okay, okay!"

We go to the Elephant Cave and our driver stops right in front of the vendor stalls and suggests we buy a surrong to wear in the temple.  We say no as we're pretty certain they'll be provided.  Upon exiting the car we are bombarded by women who insist we MUST buy a surrong in order to enter the temple.  Luckily we don't bite and are correct in our assumption.  

The temple is half Hindu, half Buddhist, it's nice but at this point I'm already pretty templed out.  

We meet a lovely vendor named Aiou who says she loves Canadians and insists I ditch Australia, move to Ubud and come live with her.  I tell her not to tempt me.  

We also stop at Tegenungan waterfall and I must say it's the nicest I've seen yet during all my travels.  I'm a little bummed as we weren't expecting this stop and therefore I don't have my swimmers with me.  I consider swimming topless in my undies, but remember that I'm not in Australia anymore and the throws of Muslim onlookers might not appreciate it.  I opt instead to wade up to my thighs.

Lastly, my mom insists we go to Ketut Liyer's compound, maybe you recognize the name.  He's the medicine man made famous by Elizabeth Gilbert in her novel Eat, Pray, Love.  

I'm not thrilled, firstly because I think all the EPL hullabaloo is ridiculous.

Secondly, I'm certain there will be nothing interesting to see or do there.

Finally, my mom doesn't even have an appointment and even if she did, according to Lonely Planet she can expect to pay $25 to hear that she's smart, sexy and will live to be 100.   

We arrive and I try not to pout too much, while my mom 'takes a number' to wait and speak to Ketut's SON (not even him!)

I scan the crowd of patiently waiting EPLers, I count 8.  I assume each reading to be between 20 to 30 minutes, putting us at a wait time of 4 hours!  

Thankfully, my mom takes pity on me and says she's happy to have just seen the place.  She's such a good lady.  

We stop for my mom's favourite, babi guling and go to an internet cafe where the internet is slow and the cramped room unbearably hot, but I'm happy because I manage to update my blog and my mom is happy because she manages to scan some important documents for her big strata meeting thingy.  

We stop for an ice coffee and make it back just before the oncoming storm rolls in.