And the saga continues...:)
On the first day of Munchie's 40s we decide to escape Seminyak and head to Ubud for a day. O&C had their heart set on doing the Dolphin thing, and despite my rather frank review they booked and managed to get a place at short notice.
A couple of years ago, when Snubs was only 6 months old and still containable we spent a couple of nights in Ubud so we could try somewhere different for a change, so we booked in at the Pertiwi Resort on Monkey Forest road. We're not much into yoga, tantric healing, chakra cleansing, or monkeys, so we really only had enough to keep us occupied there for a single day, and after that we got a little antsy.
We did, however spend a wonderful few hours squeezing through the stalls at the Ubud Market at the top of the road, smelling, watching and listening to the raucos daily life that surrounds most 'traditional' markets - doesn't really matter where you are. Munch likes to get down and dirty in the 'wet market' areas - tramping through the cumulative juice of chicken entrails and wilted kangkung, while I get my jollies sniffing spices and gorging on those little green pandan pancakes filled with coconut and palm sugar - matter of fact, I want one now... Anyway - the point is, there's not much to do in Ubud for families, so I guess that's why it's the perfect haven for people seeking more of a spiritual break than a hedonistic one.
The plan this time around was to spend more or less half a day there - visit the market again and pick-up some vanilla pods (I make my own essence) and some essential spices like long pepper and mace that are either too difficult or far too expensive to get elsewhere, but happen to be an essential ingredient in my Dutch speculaas cookies. We hire a driver off the street for 200k and leave at about 9.00am so by the time we get there everyone is more or less open. The driver drops us off in front of the market at the top of the hill, and the first thing we notice is that most of it is under construction!
Lordy what a mess! Half of the market is still open, and we can still locate the stalls we went to a couple of years ago - but it's not for the faint-hearted. Snubs hangs around the man with the little toy walkie crab things while Mookie watches on from his pram. Crab Man very kindly lets him sample all of the toys and then tells him he needs to go and ask his mother for money - can't blame a bloke for trying.
Little does the man know that Snubs, even at the tender age of not quite three is an accomplished shopper, and is already familiar with the process of exchange of goods for currency. He also has some cash burning a hole in his pocket. In his other pocket he is caretaking cash for Mookie, who is still too young to transact, but kind of gets that to get something, you must first give something.
Snubs looks over at me (I'm busy fondling vanilla beans) for approval to purchase. I nod, and add 'if you buy something for yourself, you had better by something for Mookie too please'. I get an 'Uh huh' which indicates message understood, but he so engrossed now in choosing which colour he likes, and whether he wants a crab or a centipede that I cease to exist for him. The beauty of little kids and money is that they know it's worth something, but they may not be exactly sure how much of something, and at this age when they're still very cute and learning to count, this makes them excellent shoppers in Bali.
He pulls out a couple of notes from his pocket, and hands them to the guy. I can't see how much they are, but I can see that Crab Man is not stirred to celebrate his windfall, so I figure it's not much. He motions to Snubs' pocket, and Snubs puts his hand in again - this time his biggest note, a tenner comes out. The man smiles at Snubs and hands over the blue crab he's been lusting over. Snubs smiles back and then remembers - Mookie! Must get one for Mookie! I hear him clear as day, pointing at Mookie - 'Mookie too?' Crab Man shakes his head - 'just you Boy - one! one!' Snubs isn't taking no for an answer - 'nooo....Mookie too please!' Crab Man shakes his head again and says 'you share! You share!', and picks up his portable crab shop, walking away.
I'm watching all of this from a short distance - and I can see the confusion and disappointment on Snubs' face - then to my amazement - Snubs walks over to Mookie in his pram, hands him the blue crab and says 'Happy Daddy's Birthday Mookie' and runs over to join me. Little Cherub. Almost makes up for all the times I find full teeth imprints on Mookie's arms from an argument over Thomas the Tank Engine ownership rights.
Munch returns from the wet market down below, and I wrap my spice buying - we're starting to get hungry and when I check my watch it's nearly midday - we've spent almost two hours browsing around and bargaining so we head to the top of the street and decide to make our way down to find some lunch. On the way out we pass Crab Man and Snubs tries one more time to get two-for one deal. He runs up to him, pulls another 1,000 out of pocket and hands it to the guy, then points to a green crab. Crab Man does the right thing and hands it over. I think he paid 15,000k for the two in the end, which I reckon is pretty good shopping.
We stroll down the street ducking in and out of shops and stop at the surf shop opposite the large soccer field on Monkey Forest Road. It has a big black Billabong sign out the front, but I can ‘t say for sure if it's a Billabong shop, or if this is just signage.
If you're still reading now...pay attention please.
We browse around the shop for a few minutes, and I spy a t-shirt I really like. It looks like it will fit so I go and try it on. It fits - yay! 'I think I want this one Munch - ' - he holds all the cash on holidays. 'How much is it?'. I don't really know, so I check inside for the price tag. '245k'. I call the price across the room to Munch - it's not cheap, but I like it, and I've hardly bought anything for me on this trip.
We browse around a little more, but I don't find anything else I like, so I get some money from Munch and go to the counter to pay for my t-shirt. The lady rips half of the price tag off, folds the t-shirt into a bag, and scans the bar coded tag. '345k please' she says. I do a double take - I have 250k in my hand ready to hand over. 'Oh! - I thought it was 245k , not 345k...' She shows me the price tag which indeed says 345k. I must have been mistaken. I hand over 350k, get my 5k change, and leave the shop, but I don't feel good.
We walk outside 'I think I've just been had' I say to Munchie. 'I'm positive that top was 245k. I told you, remember?' He says he can't really remember if I said 245 or 345, and we keep on down the street to find lunch.
We stop at Basil Pesto, but it's bugging me and I can't concentrate. I check the bag for a receipt. Oh joy - there isn't one. I didn't get one. OK - that's fine - I'll just go back and ask for one, then I'll know once and for all. I leave the boys to order and trek back up the hill to the shop.
I walk and the lady who served me isn't there, so I say to the other young girl there - 'Hi - I bought this top here a few minutes ago and I didn't get a receipt, I wonder if you could please re-print one for me? If I need to bring it back for any reason, I'll need one.' She says no problem, pushes a few buttons, looks at the tag on my t-shirt, scans a tag on the bench and hands me a receipt for 345k. I smile and say thank you and examine it closely, comparing it with the other half of the tag still attached to my t-shirt. Then I head to the rack where the other t-shirts like mine are, and check their tags. The top halves are there, but the price halves aren't. I am very, very suspicious.
I show my new receipt to the lady and point out that the style code on the receipt isn't the same style code as the tag on my t-shirt - ergo - this receipt is not for this product. I ask her to punch in the correct style code for my t-shirt and check the price please.
'I think I paid too much for this' I say nicely - 'I think it was meant to be 245k, but I paid 345k'. The girl nods and motions to the screen - 'oh yes, you are right - the price is 245k' She ducks into a little alcove behind her, not the cash register mind you, and produces a 100k note. 'This is your change' she hands it to me without an ounce of sheepishness or shame, and I leave the shop. It was a game. They ripped me off, I caught them out, they rectified it - we're all good now.
I almost skip back to Basil Pesto, and, passing a 'transport' man on the street who is holding a sign that says 'free hugs - today only!' I decide I had better get mine now and hug this complete stranger in the street. 100k back and a free hug! Woohoo!!!
Vindicated I thump the 100k note on the table in front of Munch. I still can't believe the way in which I was fleeced, and I think so much more hurt because it happened in the so-called spiritual heart of Bali, instead of the sleazy heart of Kuta which is where you might be counseled to be more vigilant. I guess at the end of the day, good and bad people are everywhere, this is the balance of life, but now we can all be wary of this particular ruse.
We return to Seminyak after lunch, and back to the sanctuary of our crumby villa. Tonight is O&C's last night in Bali, and tomorrow we return to our beloved Sanur to enjoy the rest of our holiday in relative luxury (we hope).
Dinner is at Ultimo - a tried and tested favourite over the years, and you just can't get Italian at this standard in Melbourne anywhere, for this price. It turns tables 3-4 times a night, and for good reason - the food is good, well priced, and delicious, and I'm pleased to see that it remains a Seminyak favourite. It deserves to. We feast on pasta, champagne cocktails, I have a beef carpaccio that is the envy of the table, and for a split second, I imagine myself in a bistro on Fitzroy Street in Melbourne - oh I miss home sometimes... Ultimo's menu looks confusing for a novice, but if you're Italian you're well versed in primi and secondi, you'll be in heaven - finally someone who understands eating!
If you make it to dessert - you're a better woman than me, or you just had an entrée, either way, you just had a great meal.
Sampai nanti... (oh no, we're still not finished...)