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.

Burst Bubble

I've been bad...

I've neglected my blog.  That's not to say I haven't been writing, I have, (although admittedly only on the rare occasion) but for the last 6 months I believed I had nothing worthwhile to share with you. 
I got absorbed into the Byron Bubble... big time.  After the hassle of losing my passport, I arrived in Australia with a negative amount of money, and I resolved to return to my workaholic ways.  I worked 5 days a week housekeeping at the YHA, 3 nights bar tending at the Brewery and 2 afternoons housekeeping at a different B&B.  As if my hectic work schedule wasn't enough, I somehow found myself involved in a quasi-sort-of relationship, so when I wasn't working I was disappearing to Lennox Head for days at a time and when I wasn't doing that I was probably out with Jules, listening to live music at The Rails with a Stone & Wood Pacific Ale in hand or dancing at the main beach drum circle with a bottle of $5 Gossip Pinot Grigio in hand.  Despite all the work, every day I woke up feeling like a kid on the first day of summer vacation.  Weeks disappeared without a trace, life was a blur of work and play and as wonderful and fantastic as it all was my introverted self longed for down time. 
On top of it all, I was torn.  I wanted to leave Byron and explore more of the country, but I was so genuinely happy it seemed absurd to leave.  Then there was the matter of the guy I was dating, I was pretty crazy about him, but there was still so much I wanted to see and do and accomplish, it seemed absurd to get further involved.  In the end things fell apart of their own accord and on that same day I got a Facebook message from my cousin Bryan asking if I wanted to house/dog sit for he and Zoe while they took their family back to Canada for Christmas.  What's that cliche?  When one door closes another one opens?
Desperate to escape the small town and my ex who had remained very close with all my friends, I immediately accepted. 

My time in Eumundi was great, spending time with Zoe and the kids was fantastic and then having that alone time was just what I needed.  When I received some upsetting news from Byron, I allowed myself one day of self pity and then dedicated the rest of my time to self-love.  I worked out, did yoga and meditated; I cooked myself healthy gourmet meals; I napped frequently; and read and wrote as much as I could.  But Bryan and family were soon to return and my flight to Bali was in a month, I needed to make a decision. 
I could:
a) Stay put in Eumundi
b) Try to do some traveling around Aus
c) Try to find a job and establish accommodation only to have to leave soon after or
d) Return to Byron, stay with friends and go back to my job at the brewery.
For days I lamented over my options.  I had just established a really killer group of friends before I left and despite my still fresh heartache, Byron was calling for me (my extreme case of FOMO contributed to my decision.)  In the end, I took my mom's advice when she said, "Francesca, if that's what you want, put on your big girl panties and make it happen" and I made peace with my former flame.  Before long I was back in the bubble.

~~~

I was a different person and Byron was a new place.  It was louder and more crowded and more hectic.  The locals were up in arms over the implementation of paid parking.  New people had come, old people had left, and me?  I felt reincarnated, I vowed to be the most social version of myself and submitted to a hedonistic lifestyle: I ate, I drank, I smoked, I attended every party, every gathering.  I moved into a tiny two man tent in The Arts Factory, a place where one could easily disappear for days in the lush jungle midst the clouds of marijuana smoke and the sound of bongo drums.  Despite it's dreamlike quality, I spent very little time at the campsite, in fact, the once somewhat-anti social me now found being alone, even for a moment, to be intolerable.  Maybe I was afraid of my own thoughts or feeling any real emotion because for that first week back there was not one day in which I did not drink.  Coming down from that bender was like crashing and burning, I felt unbearably sad.  After that, I chilled out on the partying, but still couldn't be by myself.  I found myself crashing on couches or cuddling in the beds of my girlfriends more appealing than retreating to my empty, musty tent, even if it was enclosed by 100+ other tents.  

I will forever be grateful to my incredible group of friends for accepting me (flaws and all) and for listening when I bemoaned my personal problems and for always showing me so much love and support.  

Byron was a wild ride but I don't harbor an ounce of remorse regarding any of it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for not blogging and I'm sorry I haven't kept in better touch with you all, there is no excuse.  

I'm out of the bubble now and I'll never lose sight of what's important again.