On the 30th of May 2004 I arrived from Scandinavia via Singapore after a long but comfortable flight in the Raffles Class of SIA. I passed past the new obstacle at Immigration (VOA) as I already had the sticker in my passport and also as I was one of the first off the flight. It was straight to Immigration to get the necessary stamp and out into the luggage and customs area. With hand luggage only I just said 'good afternoon' to the customs officer, gave him the usual customs declaration form and went out to look for my pre-booked driver.
And there he was, a young man with my name almost correctly spelled on a torn off piece of paper. He offered to carry my hand luggage but I told him that it is no problem to me as it rolls on wheels and it would be better if we just went straight to the car as it was really humid and hot. At that remark he started to look puzzled, and much to my amusement he said he had forgotten where he had parked the car! Well, he found it eventually after some walking around for a while in the heat. Obviously it is not only mad dogs and Englishmen that go out in the mid-day sun.
His (?) car turned out to be a van (not what I had been reading on the BTF), the sort of car that reminds you of a tin can which gives no protection at all for the people in the front seats – in an accident you can kiss your legs goodbye. The driver mumbled something that his boss just changed the car. I made a mental note to change driver – no way was I going to take to the roads in Bali in car made of tin foil. For the trip to the hotel it might be OK, as Jalan Kartika isn't exactly the Autobahn.
En route to the hotel we stopped at a store so that I could buy some essentials that are cheaper in Bali than at home, so one does not need to drag it along for 23 hours. We also stopped at a PT money changer. I could imagine how seafarers felt when they were thrown into the sea by pirates: there was a narrow plank from the street to the money changer over a wide, deep ditch. The driver made it all more interesting by stopping in such a position that when I opened the car door, had I not looked, I would have fallen straight down into some sort of a manhole, approximately 3 metres deep. That would have been an interesting start to a vacation! Thank you very much indeed, Rai.
I was becoming less and less impressed by the driver and his skills. It is obviously a John Doe that gave him his recommendation on the BTF. I think that I shall never again believe the recommendations about drivers when they obviously put the ads on the BTF themselves. This is not the first negative experience as to drivers in Bali – but I must admit that there have been quite a few correct, good recommendations on the BTF as well, even by those who recommend themselves. Next time I shall stick to one of those already tested!
With no further mishaps we arrived at the Discovery Kartika Plaza Hotel. Arriving there was as I had just been out for some shopping or for a tour on the island; the staff did not notice my arrival so I stepped out of the car, assembled the two-piece hand luggage into one and took a stroll up the zigzag walkway, beside the steps, to the reception. There they were quite surprised to have a guest asking for his reservation. Fortunately one of the managers appeared and as I had been staying at the Kartika before, the apparently new staff realised that anyone who is greeted in such a warm way by the management, may have to get some attention after all. The usual form had to be filled in - with staffs, who know me at the Kartika, I normally just sign the form and the staff fills in the rest of the details from my file. But I had finally arrived in Bali and this lack of organisation is part of the charm – and since I like the Kartika, I put up with such minor hiccups. The staff is always great, as should it be at a hotel with so many stars that any general would be green with envy.
The room on the reception level was OK but to be fair, the rooms should be spruced up; especially the bathrooms are looking more and more tired with every visit. But the room is for sleeping and taking a shower plus having a stint at the loo from time to time. The room toilets at the Kartika work at their best with a good Bali Belly. When the output is real solid, the pipe tends to get congested and the floor flooded as the loo overflows. The shower taps needed to be adjusted with hands that were as delicate as a brain surgeon's, if not one can get scalded. I did, however, appreciate the extremely hot water, which appeared immediately after turning the tap, as one does not then risk getting the dangerous legionnaire's disease, a disease that lingers in showers, Jacuzzis and air-conditioners if these are not properly maintained.
After putting my few things into the closet, room safe and fridge, I was ready to roll. The driver was put on hold when I arrived and was waiting to take me to Amoaras Spa, a very pleasant spa that also is recommended as a gay venue.
The traffic was slow getting there as the road 'renovations' were everywhere. The Amoaras is on the way to the Oberoi Hotel but the driver did not know where the spa was nor where the Oberoi was located but luckily I could give him directions. Upon arriving at the spa, I paid him 150.000 Rupiahs for a half day (he had, after all, waited at the hotel and probably at the airport as well) and said goodbye to him and after that he left my life. I think the amount was quite generous for three hours of rather poor service but I am sure readers have other ideas about what I paid him - and subsequently consider me stingy. Again it proved useful to test a driver on a short trip from the airport to the hotel to see if he is worth hiring for future trips. This guy was not worth hiring and I do not feel guilty at dropping him, as he told me he was moonlighting with his boss's car – he normally drove for some sort of company – at least that was what I think he tried to explain to me.
At the spa there was the usual cool ginger tea plus a cold, nicely perfumed towel as refreshments on arrival. I spent 2,5 hours being oiled, pummelled, kneaded, pulled, twisted, pressed, squeezed, cleaned, lavender washed, scrubbed, carrot pureed and youghurted as well as bathed among rose petals and came out of the spa as a new man, at least 20 years younger. The therapist was really good and entertaining as well. Another cup of ginger tea completed a perfect massage session. After all this excitement, it was time to make a clean (!) start of the vacation with a return by blue taxi to the hotel. At the start of the drive back, the driver sneered at my choice of a gay spa and asked if it was a "massaase compleeete" which I told him it was not, as I am well aware of the meaning of the phrase after walking in Tuban and Kuta in the evenings and during daytime as well. In return I gave him a few suggestions on how to protect oneself when visiting the "beautiful girls in Sanur" whom he promoted and used to visit himself on a frequent basis. I told him then that at times a condom is not enough as protection – one can still get dangerous diseases that will make any man sterile, and that for life. After that remark he became visibly pale and gave me a very worried look in the rear view mirror – and changed the topic. It is a pity that the Men with Transport at all times think that Caucasian single men always want to meet female prostitutes at any time of the day. This is a disgrace to any tourist destination and in a way I can understand that the Muslims disapprove of it all. I do disapprove, too, and I am not a Muslim.
On the way back to the Kartika I instead concentrated at window shopping and looking at the sights while sitting in traffic, a much more rewarding activity than listening to the nonsense of the driver. As I never tip when receiving bad service, the taxi driver was paid according to the meter albeit rounded up to the closest thousand rupiahs. I think both of us were pleased when the trip ended.
I arrived at Kartika in time for the happy hour and, later, in a very happy mood called Lembi Leather where Gede was thrilled to have me (back) as a customer. He came the following morning with his measuring tape and leather samples. I ordered a pair of black leather jeans, which after just one fitting turned out to be perfect, being really tight at the right places and giving a 'wonderful', sticky feeling after but a few minutes. Bali and leather jeans somehow do not mix well, nor do normal tight blue jeans for that matter. Here in Scandinavia, where the weather is far from enjoyable, the leather is perfect as wind breaker, and if one also breaks wind, one may say that they have some kind of built in central gas heating, which is perfect when, for weeks, it is minus 15 degrees Celsius and a strong wind to add the chill factor.
Except for the leather jeans, I did not buy anything except for a good pair of slippers and the usual stuff to fill the fridge on a daily basis. I bought a few things for my friends and I gave away my Ericsson T68 and what clothes that I had brought from home and thus had lots of space in the cabin luggage when going home – and nothing to wash which made it all simpler when unpacking. It is great to travel light! No waiting at the luggage carousels at the airports and worrying about how many taxis do I need at either end of the journey.
The days passed quickly; only a few hours were spent by the pool – instead I met friends, visited their homes, went out eating and drinking with my friends and got to meet with their friends, and spent many more hours in taxis due to the "renovations" of the sewers. I had another massage at the Amoaras and again enjoyed the skills and the pampering of the therapist.
At times, when in a taxi, I found it quicker to be driven to the beach and walk from Holiday Inn/Bali Hai or Kuta Square to Kartika. I visited the brand new Conrad Bali Hotel in Nusa Dua/Tanjong Benoa, which was "nice" but not really Bali. The reason for going there was, however, to say "hello" to one of my friends who had become a bartender there. A well spent afternoon, at least as to the excellent service at the bar.
One late evening I decided to return to the New Melasti Café at Jimbaran Bay (I ate there on several occasions last October and enjoyed the food and the attention I received) where I was greeted by my name by the staff. It is so wonderful being remembered and it was thus a nice touch added to the experience of getting a good dinner. Some extras were added to my order, the usual Jungle Juice appeared after the dinner and then, suddenly, I was in the middle of a birthday party, as the establishment celebrated its 4th anniversary when the (other) customers started to leave. Obviously I was not considered a customer, rather a friend, so the evening went on with speeches, songs, the national anthem and quite a lot of booze in a wonderful mix. It seems that I happened to be at the right place at the right time. Eventually, sometimes long after midnight, I suddenly realised that 3 big and very strong Jungle Juices (with more arrak than jungle) and 6 large Bintangs made me sleepy. Before settling down in a taxi, I had to check the toilets and to my utter surprise they were almost spotless, well at least much cleaner than expected as it had been a very busy evening. I was so happy with the standards, as I dreaded the return trip to Tuban worrying that my tank would overflow.
The taxi from Jimbaran to the Kartika took only something like ten to twelve minutes as the driver probably thought he was Michael Schumacher – or that I badly needed to let off some liquid. Those few minutes were probably a new world record for the distance. Luckily both the many dogs and the motorbike drivers decided that crossing the road was not a good idea that night, when we were flying by at low level. Considering that it took me almost one hour to get to Jimbaran due to heavy traffic and because of that having to be driven around in circles, I must admit it was some really good driving, albeit a bit scary at 120 kms/h on the Jalan Bypass and at 80 kms/h on Jalan Kartika where the sand barriers on both sides gave me the impression of travelling down an alp in a toboggan. We eventually arrived in one piece and I was glad it was not a ride in a van! Travelling on the roads of Bali does well to anyone with low blood pressure.
I spent some days taking long walks along the beach, from Kartika Plaza Hotel to Bali Hai and beyond, as well as from Kartika to Seminyak. I met old friends and got new friends during my walks and I always had many long and interesting conversations. The openness of most of the Balinese is contagious and it was always great fun. The hawkers either neglected me or entered conversations without even mentioning a sale of something that I did not need. Some Balinese are so generous that I at times felt so embarrassed. Many took my hand and thanked me for travelling to Bali, especially when they heard that I was in Bali when the tragedy of 2002 took place and despite that kept on returning.
I had most of my dinners at the Impala next door to the Kartika, or at the All Star Surf Café at Kuta Market (almost opposite Bali Garden Hotel), and walking distance from the Kartika. Food at both places was good and the staff very attentive and entertaining. Some nights I walked into Kuta and a few times ended my walks at the Hulu Café, a hilarious place when it comes to watch the reactions of the audience. The shows were good, too. The ignorance of some tourists is amazing as I cannot believe that a drag show is unique to Bali. Some nationals from the southern hemisphere must have erred on their destination, at least seeing their reactions to their visits to Hulu Café, as there were some really nasty remarks about gays and gay life. Talk about racism! And some did not even understand that the 'girls' where not that at all! Again, it is amazing how naïve some travellers are, not being able to see the difference just by looking for the Adam's apple. See one = man, not see one = woman (or a perhaps a very fat man). Personally I think it is the variety that makes life interesting but perhaps that is just my (gay) opinion. Watching people is fun no matter where and Bali is no exception. Holding hands, hugging and a lot of gentle but rather obvious approaches were part of the daily routine, and that not only at the Hulu Café. It happened when I was going out with my male friends. Bali was and is a pleasant destination for any visitor who wants some romantic moments, be he gay or straight. Walks along the beach at and just after sunsets with one or a few Balinese long-time friends were thus moments to cherish and did thaw my western, quite chilly heart. It was much better than going to clubs and discos with loud music making it impossible to strike up a conversation unless using all the voice power, with interesting results when the music suddenly stops beating down on the crowd. I think we have a lot to learn from the Balinese as to comforting and being romantic. Instead we buy dogs or cats, which one can pat, hug and kiss and get the same returned without receiving scared (or angry) looks or nasty comments from bystanders.
Apart from going to Amoaras Spa twice, visiting friends and going to the Conrad Bali Hotel, I did not really bother to do any extensive touring. After all, I have been to Bali eight times (I think) and seen most of the islands so why always travel around the beautiful island in a car or, even worse, on a motorbike, like a scalded rat when relaxing and taking the days as they come is also a perfect vacation. Bali is always there waiting for you, isn't it, should I want to return to the road?
Well, all in all I had a good time and look forward to my next stint that starts late September, includes October and ends in November. My boss was so pleased that I did not apply for my new vacation until 3 days had passed after returning home. He said that he had expected the application sent by SMS or e-mail from Bali. (Un)fortunately he has not discovered Bali yet.
One thing that has puzzled me during my trips to Bali is why everyone on the BTF is raving about the (taste?) of the Bintangs but I guess that beer is so much part of the holiday package, that it is a must to rave about it. We in Europe are so spoilt with an enormous variety of beers, and strong beers at that, that we in Bali really miss a good beer to suit various occasions like dinner, with red meat, with white meat, with fish – or as a jump start in the morning for the hardy boys. Instead we have to 'put up' with what is available and obviously popular for some reasons that I cannot understand. To me the Bintang is a mere thirst quencher, nothing else. I prefer a good gin & tonic, at least when I make it/them myself or have a very friendly and generous bartender prepare it/them.
When I take a mental look back at my vacation, I cannot understand that 13 days and 12 nights passed so quickly but when spending time with the mainly pleasant Balinese people and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, I think that time does pass quickly when having a good time.
Singapore Airlines whisked me back in the same Raffles Class comforts it had whisked me to Bali, I slept well in the Space Bed as I always relax when I am in an aeroplane. The short hop with Scandinavian Airlines (SAS) from Copenhagen to my final destination was as cold and efficient as always with SAS, with service and comfort kept to a minimum. That was quite a contrast to all the pampering in Bali and on SIA. I then knew that I had returned 'home'!