Back to Bali

Wouldn't that be lovely?  Sitting here under gray skies and with cold hands, I think I'd like nothing better than to be swinging in a hammock on Lombok, doing mostly nothing and wearing far less than I have on today.  But my title refers only to going back in the historical sense - to those warm Bali memories so that I can get them out of the way and post the various tidbits I've been writing about our new turf.

August 2010

So far there is one thing I like about the MacBook.  It gets nice and cool while sitting in an airconditioned room.  For the next little bit at least, it feels nice against my wrists and cool through the legs of my shorts.

Tidbits while sipping “Welcome Drink” number two here in the “Intercon” lobby . . . .

It is going to be quite a while before I forget the physical sensation of crawling out of my house backwards on hands and knees.  Well maybe not the house, but each room upstairs I exited with sponge in hand, backing out until I could shut the door behind me.  It’s over a week later now and I can’t forget it. 

We had tenants living in our house 5 minutes before we moved out.  We had liked them quite a bit upon meeting them a few days previous as we toured them through the house (“this is where the nails pop out of the floor from time to time.  We keep a hammer and nail setter here.” “The lock on the door to Ari’s bedroom porch is way up high, so you won’t have to worry about your son getting out.”  “Feel free to use our beater bikes while you’re here. “ And on and on) so we agreed to let them in a day early, so long as they didn’t want to get in before evening.  It made for a hellish frenzied day as we packed final things (including at least some of Evan’s office which was still left undone when we woke up that morning), but it was nice in a way too, as it foreclosed the temptation I would have had to go back there after putting Ari to bed and cleaning until midnight, or later.  So as we walked up the street to the light rail, with just a few bags in hand, (interruption:  Wow, I can’t afford these Welcome Drinks.  About $8.50 with service and tax, and it’s not even alcoholic!   Quite refreshing though), I couldn’t really believe we were leaving it all behind for a year, but it didn’t seem like we lived there anymore either.  Elisabeth had driven away a few hours earlier with our Subaru, which we’ve given her on some kind of rent-to-own status that includes her getting the title, so we had no house, no cars, no neighbors, no address . . . .

After a couple of days in Bellingham with friends, we took the Amtrak to Vancouver.  We boarded the train and I stared out the window watching the U.S. recede from view in my backward position, feeling completely unmoored and somewhat anxious, wondering what we had gotten ourselves into.  

Vancouver changed all that.  Within minutes of our arrival, I was happy and calm, with a grin on my face a mile wide.  I have thought many times before that I must have lived in Southwest BC, and maybe even right there near Burrard Inlet in a former life, and this quick trip was no different.  Vancouver makes me want to sing and run and play.  There is sunshine in my brain there even on a gloomy, wet day.  For the nth time I asked Evan if maybe we could live there someday.  

Arrival in Bali was late at night after 17 or so hours of flying.  We had decided to ease into our vacation and our travels by staying the first several days at the Intercontinental Resort on Jimbaran Beach, and our first (and lasting) impression was that we had made the right call.  It’s expensive, and it’s not “real” and I suppose we think it’s not being in Bali in the true sense, but it’s beautiful and it’s easy.  (And in this day and age, where Bali boasts shopping and food that would shame many medium-sized cities, and where the economy is generally based on tourism, what is “truly” Bali?)  Breakfast, while expensive, is enough food that Evan and I don’t need to eat lunch.  There are several pools and a beautiful beach.  The grounds are stunning and require a small army of groundskeepers.  The staff and the service are attentive and friendly.  I will be a little sad to leave here tomorrow.  It’s nice to play at being made of money for a few days. 

At breakfast we made friends with the soup girl, or that’s how I thought of her.  She was also the pancake and waffle girl.  She took a liking to Ari (his looks I suppose, since they didn’t interact too much) and so she and I would talk each day and she was always eager for us to return.  After a couple of days she asked if she could be my friend on Facebook.  What do you say to that?  So the soup girl is now my FB friend.  Of course, I am one of her thousands of FB friends.  Clearly I am not the only guest at the Intercontinental she has asked . . . . .