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Published: February 11th 2014
Greg’s feeling no better this morning and thankfully for me I sleep through his diarrhoea trips during the night, especially as our toilet has no door on it! I spend the afternoon chilling at the pool by myself, evening out the red patches, whilst Greg makes himself acquaintances with the porcelain bowl. I check on him a while layer and he's still not doing particularly well. I manage to convince him to go out to get something to eat to keep his energy up, but unfortunately the thought of eating most foods are making him feel pretty disgusting. One of the few things he feels he can stomach is pizza, so we head into a little trattoria across from our hotel.
We look like those typical couples on holiday who have nothing left to say to each as we don't talk to each other the whole time and opt to sit and look out into the distance instead. The pizza is delicious but Greg can only stomach a little bit and i'm full after eating most of the rest of it, so we have to leave some. I hate doing that as it looks like we've not enjoyed the food
when in fact we really have. The chat has been brutal and I'm looking forward to Leigh and Iain arriving so that I actually have someone to talk to! It's such a shame as we had a great start to the week and I feel really bad for Greg.
As we wait for Leigh and Iain to arrive, I feel like I'm waiting to go on a blind date as i've got that nervous excited energy. Eventually they arrive and it's so awesome to see them. I'd be lying if i said there wasn't a bit of dry humping going on. Greg manages to hold it together long enough to have a few beers at a local bar where there is a live band playing.It's great to hear a scottish accent again and the banter flows like wine at an alcoholics reunion party. And It only takes about 10 minutes before the joby chat begins. After a few beers we grab some food then head to bed (not together) to be bright and ready for tomorrow.
Day 5 of Nic and Greg do Bali
Day two of joby-watch: Greg wakes me up again this morning because he's
running by to go to the loo every 2 seconds. it seems there's not much improvement but hopefully as the day goes on he'll feel a bit better. I sluggishly drag myself out of bed and manage to throw my only pair of earplugs down the toilet as I'm still half asleep. I have no choice but to fish them out as I can't sleep without them, and just pray that washing them with soap and shampoo ten times is enough to sterilise and clean them.
It seems it's going to be a day at the pool based on Greg’s current condition, but that's fine by the rest of us. By the time it hits
4pm, the clouds have well and truly settled in and there's quite a wind on the go. It feels like it could rain, so we decide to grab a deck of cards and teach these guys how to play some shithead (an apt name based on Greg's current status). for some reason, we choose to sit in the little seating decking area situated in the highest part of the complex so the cards blow over every two seconds by gusts of winds. We abandon
the game shortly after and then resume again back at our apartment. The main source of laughter comes from my inability to use the English language correctly even though I am ironically an English teacher, along with chats about people and things we hate (which is most things as it turns out!).
Iain has decided tonight we're going to a ladyboy bar which is not really enthusing Greg, especially as he can't just drink his way through it. We almost do the typical British thing of spending an hour deciding on a restaurant to eat at, and everyone is humming and hawing so I take the decision to go to the next place we see. We're slightly dubious that we end up in a restaurant affiliated with the supermarket next door but the food ends up being pretty tremendous. It's a doubly whammy as the waiter offers us a second bottle of wine for 10 dollars: alcohol + cheap price = happy scots. He seems to know us well already, and we happily accept.
We walk down to the gay bars (aptly named bottoms up and face bar) and head inside for some tranny action (yes I know
that’s not very PC, but then again, that’s one of the things we decided really annoys us, so I’m going for it). It doesn't take long before Greg has made a friend who subtly asks if he wants another drink by making rude gestures with his hand, mouth and an empty bottle of beer. Greg couldn’t look more straight if he tried, as he pushes his chest out and stands in the most manly (but completely rigid) position he can. This is like a flashing beacon to every other gay in the room, who obviously thinks they’ve hit the jackpot with a new toy to play with. Two seconds later, a drag queen dressed head to toe in pink stops in front of us to mine along to a lady gaga song. She's followed closely by another one dressed in a leather corset. Iain shortly admits he needs the toilet so we wish him good luck and send him on his way. When he comes back he tells us that a boy cornered him to ask if he's gay to which he replied 'not yet', raising a few giggles from the locals.
It all gets a bit too much
for Greg, especially when he's then hit on by an old aussy guy, and so we head outside and into the bar next door, which is a lot less crowded and much tamer. None of us can handle any more beer by now, so we start onto the spirits, although it’s certainly not any Bacardi rum I've ever tasted before. And it’s beyond scientific explanation as to how he can pour me a rum and Iain a vodka from the exact same bottle. Have I become a drink snob as well as a food wank? Most probably- I like to drink for the taste of it rather than to get drunk these days- what's that all about?? Oh yeh, it's called being 32.
We sit through another couple of drag acts including an amazing guy balancing on a pole (it was much better than it sounds) and another lady gaga tribute act. The highlight being Iain getting dragged to the front of the stage by a drag queen (in coincidentally with the best pair of legs I've seen) and then being stripped half naked while she wrapped her legs round him. It's time to leave as Iain's eyes start
to bounce off each other and my stomach protests at the thought of one more fake Bacardi. A falafel and chips later, we're homeward bound, 5 minutes before the heavens open and it torrentially rains.
Day 6 of Nic and Greg do Bali
Next morning is a bit of a non-starter as Greg wakes me up constantly (even through my pee-soaked ear plugs) whilst running back and forwards to the loo again. Looks like it’s day 3 of joby watch. I decide to skip breakfast and allow us to catch up on sleep instead.
At midday I'm getting restless and can't sleep any longer, so I leave Greg sleeping and go in search of some food. I meet Leigh and Iain half way along and we take up our usual positions at the side of the pool. Unwilling to move any further than the bar, I order a dish called a chicken flip flop (which the waiter unintentionally writes down as a chicken plip plop- there we go again with the joby references). My ‘plip plop’ is delicious and Iain and leigh decide to follow my lead by ordering some food too. Half an hour later, we're
another man down as Iain starts to feel unwell too. We can only hope it's just a hangover (which Leigh is convinced it is) and in the meantime we get him back for ribbing Greg by giving him some of his own advice and telling him to man up!
It looks like its just the two of us then so we leave our sleeping beauties to rest and Leigh and I take a walk along to the beach. It's actually really nice to spend some time just the two of us and we manage to while away an hour chewing the fat and setting the world to rights. We talk about the past and the future and everything in between. We stop for some corn on the cob smothered in chilli butter on our way back and admire the sand now stuck solidly to our legs which Leigh quite rightly points out make her legs look like a macaroon bar.
It would be rude of us not to take advantage of the 2 for 1 mojitos being offered at a nearby bar so we head in, hands twisted behind our backs. I'm usually dubious of a 2 for
1 cocktail offer, as usual it means they are crap, but we're so sick of drinking beer that we don't even care. However, we're pleasantly surprised when they show us an extensive and interesting mojito menu and tell us we can have whichever flavour we like. I opt for the ginger mojito while Leigh chooses the coconut mojito --and as a mojito snob, I can confirm they are delicious and taste as a mojito should. Our next choice is pineapple and almond for me and lemon basil for Leigh. We could probably spend the next few hours working our way through the list (theirs always tomorrow) but we feel we should probably check on our men in case they are wondering where we are. When walking by reception, one of the hotel workers says hello and then promptly calls out to us that we've dropped something. We spend the next minute scanning the ground in bewilderment before we realise he's done us good and proper as he cheekily grins and says "thanks for looking". I must admit, we're impressed by his banter as it’s more than we've got out of Greg and Iain today.
When we get back, neither
of them have even noticed we're missing which makes us feel so special. I can tell Greg is feeling a bit better though as he's being cheeky and winding me up as usual. We agree to reconvene in an hour to let the boys freshen up, then we head out to get some food. We only manage to venture as far as the restaurant in our hotel as Iain is still claiming illness (it's definitely a hangover) and Greg may release his bowels at any given moment, so it seems the safest option. The boys have decided they are in fact ten years old again as they order 2 orange squash drinks, a kids pizza and a bowl of tomato soup. As the waitress brings over their drinks and ask who they are for, Leigh and I almost simultaneously reply "they’re for the two ladies" and the waitress starts laughing. She doesn't even need to ask who the pizza and tomato soup are for. Greg's logic is that the cheese will help 'bind' him inside – let’s hope he is right.
Based on the status of the boys, we decide on a low key night at the apartment playing
cards with a bottle of wine for me and Leigh. We've promised the boys we'll even let them stay up late if they behave. On our way to the apartment, we walk by a nearby bungalow with the lights on and curtains half open. It’s hard not to look inside as we walk by, and what we are greeted with is the vision of a naked man starfishing on the bed which raises a few laughs and perks our moods up.
We've brought cards with us and are promptly taught how to play 'damn it' which we instantly fall in love with due to our competitive nature. However, we realise something isn't right when Iain puts down an ace of spades on top of the one Greg has just played. We soon realise there's 2 packs mixed together so we have to sort them out otherwise the game wont work. That’s when we notice that there are lots of cards actually missing too. There's nothing for it but to right alternative names onto the doubler cards to replace the ones that are missing, and it certainly adds an extra element of confusion but amusement to the game. Thankfully the
boys are feeling better and so the banter flows once again, including the fact I have a 'muscular frame' and Greg's hatred of 'guitar wankers'. It's one of those daft nights which is non-pretentious with little expectation and therefore ends up being one of the best. And with only 4 glasses of wine consumed between 4 people for the whole evening.
Day 7 of Nic and Greg do Bali
Unsurprisingly everyone is feeling decidedly fresh the next morning, and so we decide to attempt to venture further outside of the resort to see some more of what Bali has to offer. We would have loved to go to Lombok for the day, but it's proving too difficult and expensive to get there so I suggest a visit to a nearby beach instead. It's apparently nicer than the beach nearest to us, so we grab our beach essentials and hail a taxi to take us there. The receptionist has told us it should only cost about 20000 rupees so we spend several minutes haggling with taxi drivers over the price when Leigh gets fed up with it all and decides the latest quote of 50000 will do. Thankfully we
agree the price beforehand instead of using the meter, as we end up stuck behind a bus on the most ridiculously small road ever and it takes us nearly half an hour to get anywhere. Finally we reach our destination and we cheerfully pay the driver his money and jump out in search of sea and sun.
It takes us all of 2 minutes to realise we have been well and truly taken done, and had the proverbial piss taken well and truly out of us. We walk the 50 yards to the end of the road and are greeted with a ferocious looking sea and not much more. Greg has to ask where the beach is as the tide is right up to the end of the road. We're still hopeful we might be in the right place until we spot two locals sitting by the side of the road absolutely wetting themselves with laughter at the dumb tourists. Guess this isn't the first time it's happened then. Determined not to look even more like eedjits, we manage to find a one inch of beach path to walk along, so we take a stroll to see what, if
anything, we can find. There might be a gorgeous beach filled with surfers and relaxing beach bars just round the corner...
What we find is this- some half built villas, about 50 washed up fallen coconuts, a row of sheds storing old fishing boats and some local Indonesians playing a game of beach football. It's nice, but not exactly what we were expecting or looking for. And we can't even dip our feet in the water as the current is like a huge washing machine on a full spin cycle and our ankles are also at risk of being broken in two by the huge coconuts sloshing around in the surf.
We soon reach the end of the 'beach' and admit defeat so turn around and head back to the road we came from in the hope of getting another taxi. As we turn around, we all spot two dodgy looking blokes walking in our direction. Neither of us say anything to each other, but before long it’s clear that all our 'Glasgow radars' have been turned to red alert, and we walk slowly in the hope they will disappear in front of us. It's a tense 10 minute walk with no one else remotely nearby and nowhere we could possibly run to, so we are all weighing up what weapons we could use if they choose to attack us. Leigh has decided on a pair of flip flops (?), Iain has a broken tartan umbrella, Greg has a plastic bag with an orange in it and I have a towel, so I'm starting to eye up the washed up coconuts on the beach as a back up. Thankfully we are either overly suspicious Glaswegians who trust no one, or the guys decide it is too much risk and they stop and then slink off into some half finished buildings. Note to selves- always check you're at the correct place before you all jump out of a taxi! To make matters worse, Greg is feeling ropey again, so we stop for some food and drink at a hotel next to where we first started at the side of the road, and then suck it up and head back. This time we ask the hotel to order is a taxi which is metered and it cost us 45000 rupees, doh.
After some more games of cards (I am well and truly addicted now- thanks guys!), we head to a restaurant called The Bistrot (not bistro) and we order some more red wine, which I've scarily developed a real craving for. we've opted for the cheapest bottle (would you expect anything less) and almost laugh when a random Aussie waiter attempts to up sell us the nicer, but more expensive bottle on the menu. He soon realises he's never going to win,and unsurprisingly we don't see him again for the rest of the evening.
Our next stop is the bar we went to on our first night which has a live band playing again. They were really good the first time and it's a nice atmosphere so we cram ourselves into a table near the front and order our drinks. One of the band members is going round the tables with his microphone and getting customers to sing along. It's a bit tongue and cheek with the main idea of people making a big of a mess of it but having a laugh, so he gets a shock when he places the microphone in front of Leigh and she starts singing perfectly in tune. He's so impressed he asks her to sing a song on her own and with a few bevvies for courage already in her, she accepts the offer and flawlessly sings her way through 'valarie' even though she doesn't know a lot of the words (not that you would know from her performance). It's a nice way to finish the evening. Back to ours and another unnecessary bottle of red wine later, we play some more damn it, this time with a brand new deck of cards! It’s time to go home when I start saying ‘no, seriously’ every two seconds and Iain has that glazed over expression on his face.
Day 8 of Greg and Nic do Bali
Unfortunately we've came to our last day of the holiday together, and in light of our disastrous day trip yesterday, Iain's chronic hangover and the fact they have to leave in a few hours, we spend most of it lazing by the pool. Greg has continued to feel better and in light of this, suggests we go for one last lunch together. Iain is still feeling rough, so we abandon him at the side of the pool bear hugging a sofa and go in search of some scran. We stumble upon a little earth cafe which does chickpea burgers and other veggie food (Greg still can't face anything containing any type of meat) so we decide to eat here.
All is well until we look around and realise we hate pretty much all the stereotypical type of people who eat in a place like this. At a risk of offending any of our friends who are of a similar demeanour, we won't go into detail, although 'wanker' (i.e- think ‘tree-hugging wanker’) was banded about at the end of many of our descriptions. Basically we can't handle that these type of people may actually be happy with their lives, and we also came to the realisation we're quite angry little people who complain about things far too much. We British people love a moan though! The last straw is when Leigh spots a 'community table' sign and we swiftly make for the exit before she officially loses it. But not before I finish eating my organic falafel pitta with raw cabbage and homemade hummus.
As
4pm approaches I start to feel really sad- we've had a great time even though we've had a man down more often than not. We say a final goodbye to them as they climb into their taxi and we wave as they drive (slowly) out of sight. We try to make the most of our next few hours at the pool and then head off to get ready for dinner. It's really not the same without the two of them here, and we are really missing the banter once more. And playing damn it without them just isn't the same. To stop moping, we go out for a nice meal and then as a tribute, we end the night playing cards.
Day 9 of Nic and Greg do Bali
Why do you wait so long for your holiday only for it to be over as soon as it began? On the first day of your holiday you're always smug when you see other people leaving with their cases, then you know other people are doing the exact same thing to you when you leave. We have our last nasi goreng breakfast and say cheerio to Wilson and Bertie as we wait for our taxi. I quickly nip across the road to buy some water and chocolate before the taxi arrives as I know Greg will be hungry in about 10 minutes (now he's not unwell anymore, ironically on the last day of the holiday).
When the taxi arrives, Greg confirms the price with the driver that it will be no more than 100000 rupees (what we paid on the way here) and he says ok, that's the price. The woman from reception is telling us it could be less because it's metered but Greg doesn't hear her over the noise of the engine. Once we get to the airport we look at each other with raised eyebrows as we see the meter only reads 60000. Greg confirms the price but the taxi driver states we promised him 100000. After a bit of a stand off (we were always going to win), Greg offers him the correct fare plus a half eaten bar of chocolate and he gracefully admits defeat and takes the fare, along with the chocolate! Everyone's a winner, and we feel it makes up for getting duped the other day at the beach. I do believe that makes it one-all. It’s one thing I’ve not loved about Bali since being here- this constant haggling and trying to get money from tourists, often at our expense. I understand the difference in cost of living and wages, and how relatively cheap things are in comparison to how much money tourists have to spend, but it’s very tiring and frustrating. Anyway, rant over!
Check in is the usual painful process and the airport isn't laid out very well so we get lost about 5 times even though it's pretty small. As we're about to go through security, we see we have to pay a tax to leave. We already knew we'd have to pay, but as we have a connecting flight from Jakarta, it means we're going to have to pay twice, and we're not amused. Our earlier triumph has been overshadowed and it's put us in the mood. That and the fact we know we've still got another 24 hours of travelling ahead of us, including a 10 hour stop off at Jakarta. It seemed doable at the time but now I'm not so sure. But at least there's starbucks at the airport, so we'll be spending all our time milking one coffee in there lol.
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Iain
non-member comment
Just to clarify...
Some points of clarification: 1. It wasn't "glazed over", it was a look of pure focus 2. I miss our make-shift cards 3. I am the undisputed card champion of the world! Blog w@nkers!