Nic and Greg do Bali - Part 1

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Woo-ooh we’re going to Ba-li. Whoo-ooh, back to the island


When 4pm on sunday comes around I actually do a little dance around the classroom as we are finally finished work for two whole weeks! My students look at me like i'm even more weirder than usual as I skip out of the classroom singing 'holiday-ay'. We feel we've earned it and can't believe we've made it through our first term alive.

We head home and do a quick turnaround before heading to catch our bus to Hong Kong where we're staying for the evening. Our original plan was to have a few beers on the bus journey there but we are so knackered that a coffee sounds much more appealing at the moment. Conveniently, they've just opened a new Starbucks right next to the hotel where we're catching our bus from, so we stop off for a quick frapa-mapa-cappa-dappa-cino for a well needed caffeine hit. As I enter the shop though, the barrista apologetically informs me that they're not open yet. I'm pretty gutted but accept the KB gracefully, then as I turn to leave, she offers to give me 2 free coffees instead as way of an apology (seems slightly mad logic but hey, it works for me). And they're not just little tiddlers either- they're proper man size portions, albeit no milk or sugar which makes them the largest espresso known to man. 5 minutes later we're absolutely buzzing from all the caffeine, but it's just what we need after a long week of work, and don't forget that all important Mcwhinnie mantra - it's FREE.

Our bus departs on time and arrives at the border about half an hour earlier than anticipated thanks to our maniacal bus driver, who unwittingly must have also consumed one epic sized black coffee before we left. We're pleasantly surprised at border patrol as there is hardly anyone waiting to go through. Without fail though, we manage to pick the slowest queue where there is a problem with someone's passport at the front of the queue which holds is up longer than necessary. At the other side of border patrol, we exit to see our manic bus driver waving and shouting at us frantically to hurry up. The journey into Hong Kong feels everlasting as there is an old Chinese man on the bus who keeps sniffing every 2 seconds, and that's not even an exaggeration. I want to walk over and offer him a tissue and tell him to shut up, but in typical polite British manner I do nothing but tut loudly and give him a dirty look every time he does it.

Eventually we're off the bus and thankfully we have a rough idea of where we are this time. We head to the metro, get off at the correct stop and find the hotel after a few minutes of walking in the right direction- no stories to tell here. As we arrive at our hotel, we feel like the ugly kid at school who is dating the prom queen and punching well above his weight. It looks well too posh for us - there's even a chandelier in the lift. It's about 50 times better than our previous accommodation, and it’s already beaten it hands down with the fact there are several windows. As we take the chandelier'd lift to the 17th floor, my suitcase gets sandwiched between an old man and a 3 year old girl, resulting in an awkward half-limbo/half yoga pose as I try to keep hold of it. I grumbly loudly to Greg i am at a weird angle because the eedjit in front of me is almost sitting in my pocket, to which the guy replies 'so sorry' and moves to the side to let me through. Note to self- remember that people CAN actually speak English here so it's not acceptable to abuse them in public! After a quick refuel and complimentary tea from our room's tea-making facilities, we bunk down for the night as we have an early morning wake up.


Day 1 of Greg and Nic do Bali

After a broken sleep, we manage to get up and out for just after 7am, which my body and brain are not thanking me for. We head outside and catch the express bus to the train station where we get our train to the airport. It's not cheap at 120 HK dollars per couple one way, and if we'd known that before then we'd have opted for a hotel next to the airport instead. It pains us to know we’ve missed out on a potential 10 quid saving somewhere but never mind, we’ll know for next time.

We get to the airport on time for once and are actually first in the queue for our tickets, not the usual process for us and quite a calm and relaxed feeling- so this is what it's like to be organised. The airport is HUGE and after walking for about 30 minutes we finally reach the boarding gate. It's a tense moment when we go through security and they ask us the dreaded question “is this your suitcase?” to which we tentatively say yes as they then ask to open it up as they've spotted something in the bag. We know we don't have anything in there we shouldn't, although it's a suitcase we borrowed from a friend so crazy doubts start to race through our minds. Thankfully it just turns out to be Greg’s asthma inhaler and the guy sends us on our way satisfied.

We've got a few hours to burn so I head in search of something to read and am over the moon when I spot a cosmo magazine in English on one of the shelves. It's only 4 dollars so I snap it up and head to the checkout. But when I get there, the cashier rings it through as 62 Hong Kong dollars- bit of a difference there! I make some excuse about needing to get money and run away as quickly as possible. The flight to Singapore is fine, although there is only enough leg room for a 3ft dwarf, and of course we sit behind the two people who recline their seats for the whole journey meaning their chair is almost touching our heads if you sit upright. We've got a 4 hour wait at Singapore airport so we grab something to eat and then take a walk around, stopping inside the butterfly garden for a while to look at all the different butterflies. What a great concept at an airport- a nice calming place to escape to from all the hustle and bustle. Before we know it, we realise it is only 50 minutes before our flight and we haven't checked in yet, so we make a mad dash around the airport trying to find the check in desk. So it looks like our new mantra didn't last long! Thankfully we get our tickets just before check in closes, and the plus side is we've managed to bag 2 emergency exit seats in the process! The connecting flight feels longer than the first even though it's 2 hours less - I think the fact we have been travelling since 7am and it’s now 9pm has taken its toll on us.

Immigration at Bali is a total nightmare as first of all you need to pay 18 quid each just for the privilege of entering the country. Then the passport queues are massive, so we spend another hour waiting some more just for fun. To pass the time we do some people watching, and we try to guess the background stories of the people around us, and do a commentary on what they might be saying to each other in the accent we think they have. We spot the classic British ‘once a year two week holiday I’ve saved up 11 months for’ couples who are dressed up in their best holiday gear. The ladies have their new floaty dresses on in flowery, pastel colours, topped off with a floppy sun hat and new open toed sandals. Then there’s the men with their ralph lauren polo shirts, 3/4 length cargo shorts and either a pair of sparkling white addidas trainers, or a pair of boat shoes. Then interspersed with them you have the seasoned wandering travellers, noted by their 12 month tan which is the colour of mahogany, their unruly and ‘natural’ messy hair, a self-help book under one arm, comfy and baggy harem pants (picked up at some local market in the middle of nowhere whilst riding on a camel) and the largest rucksack known to man on their backs. Finally you have the crazy lone travellers, usually middle-aged men who look slightly odd who have attached themselves to some young Indonesian woman.

After our scrutinisation of everyone in the queue, we manage to get through immigration to let the hassling and haggling begin. Rather than fall for the numerous unlicensed taxis outside, we sensibly wait at the official taxi rank and are allocated our driver for a set fee based on location. It's a better system, although we're a bit miffed when it says seminyak is 80000 rupees when the guy at the desk then says it will be 100000. When we query it he just yells that it is because we are further out of seminyak and that's the end of conversation. It feels we've just haemorrhaged money today and we’re not best pleased even if it only means a few quid difference. Our taxi driver makes up for it though and he is lovely as he embarrassedly tells us the government sets the taxi fares and he is just simply told where to go. He tells us about where he is from and some history of Bali, so in the end we actually give him a little tip extra (see, we're not always the tight scots!).

It's amazing to finally get here and it sinks in that we are actually on holiday at last! It has a really holiday feel to the place, and that can mean only one thing- beer! We ditch the shower plan in favour of food and something to drink as it is now nearly 11pm and restaurants are closing. We walk up and down the street outside the hotel in a daze a few times before finally deciding upon a little friendly looking place across from our hotel called Soho. It’s one of the few places still open that isn’t pumping out loud generic pop music (oh we have changed). Although it's mainly serving western food, we don’t care at this moment and I order a burger while Greg opts for something more traditional by ways of a seafood laksa. We're not expecting much, but it's actually extremely delicious. My burger is homemade and filled with flavour without a single piece of grizzle in sight, and Greg’s laksa has the perfect combination of sweet, salty sour and spicy. Now I understand masterchef judges when they talk about the layer and depth of food (am I being a food wank? Yes, probably). A cold bintang later, we head back to our spacious private villa to unpack, shower, drink some more beer and then crash out- all in that order.


Day 2 of Greg and Nic do Bali

We are woken up this morning by the sound of... absolutely nothing. No workies using a hammer and electric saw, no cars incessantly beeping their horns, and nobody hacking up their lungs. I don't wake before my alarm goes off (what a result) and unbelievably manage to resist the urge to snooze through it. The thought of a free breakfast is a good motivator.It's pure blue skies as we look out of the window and the only noise is coming from the little birds in the trees outside. The hotel is really pretty, the staff are very friendly and the place is sooo quiet. Yet when you venture outside there are a multitude of shops and restaurants on our doorstep.

Breakfast is a choice of continental (toast, OJ and coffee), American (a fried egg, OJ and coffee) or Indonesian (nasi goreng, OJ and coffee). We opt for the latter and it doesn't disappoint. Next to our table (a claim that we'll now stake for the rest of the week being little creatures of habit) there are two turtles swimming around merrily. If that was in china, they'd have been in some fried rice by now, but here they've been left to live another day and we decide to name them Bertie and Wilson (even though evidently one is most probably female).

After breakfast we go for a little walk to try and find a supermarket to buy sunscreen and some basic supplies. We're not quite sure where we'll get one, and in the end it turns out to be one of our legendary magical mystery tours. It starts off like this: me- “oh there's a supermarket on our left, let's go there shall we?” (queue a few minutes shuffling around looking at things). Greg- “well this seems perfectly adequate, but perhaps we might get it 1 pound cheaper in the next supermarket?” (queue a 2 and a half hour walk in the middle of the day with no sunscreen). Finally we stumble upon another little place, and yes we manage to get it about 2 pounds cheaper than the first place, but now my legs are about to give up, and I have the reddest shoulders on the planet as I haven’t had any protection on them. It's still another 15 minutes walk back (we went in the biggest circle ever) and we manage to get lost around the 5 minutes away mark meaning we are slightly grumpy by the time we do get home. I don't know why we put ourselves through it, but hey, we saved 2 quid! There's nothing left to it than spend the afternoon having a lazy day by the pool, so that's what we do. It's what we've been dreaming of all those months ago, and a truly euphoric moment.

A few hours later, we decide to go and get ready and I inspect the worst of my sunburn which is pretty bad to say the least. My shoulders look like 2 little red baboons arses. I'm so annoyed at myself as we are usually really careful when it comes to sunscreen, but the walk this morning is the damaging factor. We make our way to the beach to watch the sunset and on our way we spot a guy selling corn on the cob at the side of the road. It looks and smells amazing so we decide to get some, the guy obviously spots 'tourist' and tries to go in at the high price, which we refuse before he immediately offers us it half price. But when we check our bag we realise the purse is nowhere to be seen- I've left it back in the apartment! We apologise and tell him we have no money and he then tries to give it to us for free! We're not willing to accept it for free as we’re not that tight and promise we'll come back and get some later. We find a spot on the beach and sit there for 20 minutes while staring at the sun which doesn't seem to move. After another 10 minutes we both concur we have enough time to run back and get the purse before the sun sets. It's cutting it fine, and on the way back we break into a canter as we realise that we probably didn't have enough time after all. It's not like us to be rushing from one place to another eh? And the result is we only just catch the last glimpse of the sun as it finally plunges into the sea. Greg is like David Attenburgh on speed as he snaps away at the beautiful multi-coloured sky. And yes, we go back for our corn, which is the most amazing corn ever- coated with butter and tamarind and lime.

Back at the apartment and after a few games of cards with a few beers, we head out to get something to eat. We go to a little 'warung' (literally translated as a 'little shop'😉 that has been recommended by the guy at reception. It doesn't disappoint and before long we are tucking into some stir fried cabbage, handmade spring rolls, tuna satay and a spicy chicken and rice dish with fried peanuts. The food is delicious and only costs us 170000 rupees or about 7 quid. I am a happy bunny and after purchasing a few more beers for the road, we head back to the hotel and have a seat at the pool.

The beautiful silence though has been compromised by a rogue frog, who is either hoping to get laid tonight, or he has lost his wife and kids and taking a strop about it. It's making the loudest croaking sound ever and after trying to ignore it for about half an hour, we've reached the end of our tolerance levels and go on a special undercover mission impossible operative to take him down. Problem is every time we get within 5 feet of where we think he is, he stops croaking! With the aid of a flip flop and a plastic bag as our weapons, we move in until we finally spot the little blighter. It's a two man effort as Greg flicks him upstream into my waiting bag- mission accomplished. We're tempted to leave him in with Bertie and Wilson but instead we release him further up into the gardens.

We resume our earlier positions, enjoying the peace once again. But 5 minutes later, the croaking starts again from the same place- turns out we got the wrong guy, who let his mate take the fall! This time I go in quietly taking one small step at a time, with the result I look like I'm walking on the moon. I am getting some strange looks from the other people still hanging round the pool but I don't care- i am a purely focused frog ninja at this moment in time. I wait a few seconds and then see the frog’s throat vibrate in the water as he croaks and I think gotcha. I dip the bag into the water only for it to narrowly miss and swim round a statue in the middle of the pond. Undeterred, I climb onto the statue and try again before almost falling in. Greg appears to see me balancing almost upside down on one leg, holding on for dear life with one hand and waving a plastic bag about in the other. But between us we corner it and eventually he is captured - haha! We release him out with his other mate (who'll no doubts have words with him for letting him take the rap - 'aye, cheers mate'😉. Do I have too much of a vivid imagination?. Job done and we continue the rest of the evening with more beer and cards. Just as we're about to head to bed a few hours later, we hear the distinct sound of Mr frog croaking loudly from the same place- he's only bleeding well made his way back! We have to laugh and this time leave him be. Mr frog 1 - us 0.

Day 3 of Nic and Greg do Bali

The sun is still shining when we wake up today and we’re back to golden silence again. We've arranged to go and do a tour around Ubud this afternoon, so we have our usual nasi goreng for breakfast and then mull around by the pool until it’s time for our driver to pick us up. We were quite lucky in the fact that our 'driver' is actually the receptionist who makes some extra money on the side by driving. He's offered to take us about on his day off for a very reasonable 350000 rupees for 5 hours. I look like a total bampot and typical Scottish tourist as I'm wearing the only t-shirt I happen to have with me to cover my burnt shoulders - my rangers top.

We set off and Made (that's his name) stops off at a few rice fields along the way so we can take some pictures. Then we head through some little villages along the way before stopping at the monkey forest temple park. We have to pay extra to get in and then an extra tip to our 'guide' (who actually doesn't do much for us except point out a few monkeys). I don't really think it’s worth the money as it’s not so much as a forest or a temple but a large concrete square with some trees round the edge and lots of scabby looking monkeys running about. Call me cynical but I've seen monkeys before in Thailand, and in what I think is a nicer setting. This has been turned into a massive tourist trap and is much more to do with trying to flog the daft tourists with a hippy tie-dye t-shirt in all the shops than the actual monkeys. Don't get me wrong, I totally understand their logic and why they are doing it, I don't begrudge anyone trying to make a living, but it's just slightly disappointing as an experience, especially one we've had to pay for.

Anyway, next up is Tanah lot temple, the most famous temple in Bali. I'd already read this place is crawling with tourists so expected it to be this way, and it is. Again we have to pay to get through to the car park and then out to the viewing point, which again is slightly annoying when it's not actually the fee to get into the temple, thats just to look at it. To get into the temple you have to 'bless' the temple by buying some 'holy water' (just a bottle of water as it turns out) so of course we tell them to bolt! I thought god's love was free??

We have a wander around then head back to our driver so we can go for the baba guling (suckling pig) he has promised. I like Made our driver as he hasn't tried to give us the pushy sales patter, or tried to get extra money out of us. He has also warned us of what to look out for at the attractions. As a good will gesture and thank you, we pay for his baba guling too. It's really tasty, and our background is a view of an old farmer ploughing his rice fields, but I don't know if it's what I was expecting. I was thinking it would be slices of pork cut straight from a full roasted pig when in fact it just seems like some pieces of pork cooked in a pan and tossed with some rice. Again, at the risk of sounding like a food wank (there I go again) it isn't what I was hoping for, albeit an extremely tasty and cheap alternative.

We head back and Greg is hungry again half an hour later, so he makes himself a sandwich from the ham we bought earlier. Then we stupidly decide to take another walk, resulting in us getting dead ended at the beach then lost up a dark alleyway before walking back the way we came, which takes us 2 hours. Do we ever learn??

Greg has started to feel pretty ropey at this point and I'm knackered too, so we skip the beer in favour of a coffee and some water. As we reach the apartment, things take an unexpected turn for the worse, and Greg rushes to the toilet. That's where he spends the next 3 hours the poor thing. I feel superb and therefore am really feeling bad for Greg. We can only conclude it was the ham that's done it, as we've eaten exactly the same otherwise. I spend my third night in Bali reading my book in bed with a coffee and going to bed at 1am. I think my mum and dad are even more rock and roll than us tonight! (sorry mum and dad).

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