Chapter 1; Southeast Asia, Arrivals in Indonesia

The alarm screamed at me at 4:30am. I thought that I would have continued to be restless throughout the night, but the celebration champagne had entirely ran away with my consciousness. I remember vivid dreams and strong projections of handsome beings, who had recently been somewhat close to this heart. At least there were dreams to be visited by them whilst I was gone.
The most tremendous fantasy was beginning on that very hour of that morning. The desire for the upcoming adventure had finally arrived and surfaced, and oh, how exhilarated I felt.
I threw back the duvet and darted to the bathroom. Movement could be detected from the hallway, and my ears picked up a sleepy "good morning" from my mother. I responded as I was sat on the throne, where she then appeared with puffy but gleaming eyes. I shall let you in now that my mum is my best friend, as cliché as it sounds. I am a constant developing individual who has a strong belief in the law of attraction. The two of us have the fiercest bond, and I can speak to her about literally anything. So having a discussion whilst I was peeing as she was undressing to wash, was a normal situation under our roof. Sometimes, it isn't just liquid departing from our bodies either during these chats, but I shan't go into that.

It didn’t take us too long to be ready. Our bags were already locked up and laying on the floor, waiting to be collected and carried. I silently said goodbye to my bedroom, as I didn’t know when I would be stepping foot into it again. That part hadn’t really hit me just yet. There was my little bed, where I had shed tears of sorrow, heard heart beats of happiness, and spoken passionate words in whispers. Then there was the cross-trainer, where I had spent god knows how many hours peddling away, whilst watching untold amounts of moving images on a small screen. And then my ancient computer, almost at its end, and in a constant state of wheezing when switched on and perched on a desk that would collapse if it wasn't leaning against the wall. A haphazard bedroom for a haphazard soul. Goodbye, and I hope to find us both still pieced together when I return.
We were picked up by Parzi, my step grandad. His real name is Steve, but Parzi has always been his nick name for a reason that I should probably remember but do not. He jumped on board the train with us too as he is a London commuter, and it was busier than I had expected it to be at this usual slumbering hour. I wasn’t going to miss the c2c service as it repeatedly makes us suffer from engineering works. I didn’t think that it was going to miss us either because we got stuck at Limehouse for over ten minutes, due to an overhead fire. Its walls must have detected my cussing.

The rest of the journey to Heathrow t4 wasn't any trouble, although we began to struggle with the backpacks. I hadn't eaten for a fair amount of hours so the strength in my arms resulted to almost zero percent. Mum found it tough because of the zero amount of space that was left in her bulging luggage, that weighed 5kg more than mine. She has always been a heavy loader, which is manageable for a holiday but not for travelling. It was all part of the learning process. It met the maximum weight when the bags were weighed at check in, and I tried to suppress my giggles because I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. The security gates were almost uninhabited, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The way that beings act as they make their way through the search barriers can be agitating. Once we were through and had sorted ourselves out, we hunted down the best eatery for a hearty breakfast. I wolfed down my order of pancakes, which was the beginning of my obsession with the scrumptious round buttery delights. We were still in awe of where we were and what we were about to embark on. A two and a half month tour of Southeast Asia. Was it really happening? It certainly was. Mother was also turning to that grand age of fifty on that very day. I was in awe of her as well as the trip, because of her face that is one so very beautiful, and too fresh to have lived through half a century. I hope that those selection of her genes are within me too.

With our energy restored, we circulated the shops until it was time to hop on plane one of three, to the Netherlands. The lady who

had served us to exchange some money over was endearing.
“You are fifty today?!” She asked mum, with a look of disbelief spread across her cute, round face, which only grew wider once mum had nodded a yes to her question.
“Why," she said, "you look good!”
See? I wasn't the only one to have thought it.
It seemed like only yesterday that I was mooching around Amsterdam on my solo tour around Europe, smelling the pot but not high on it (honest). I was only in a natural state of nirvana. Our connecting time was short, so we didn’t get to venture too far around the airport maze. I had never noticed how sizable it actually was, but I was glad that we had to walk a stretch from one side to the other as flight no 2 required many hours sat down on our asses. When the gate began to crowd, my ears detected our names being called from the departure desk. The stewardess took our details and checked our date of exit from Indonesia. We hadn’t even arrived and they were already focused on our departure. I kept forgetting about the visa malarkey. After we had boarded and settled into our seats, mum turned to me and genuinely asked "Will our bags be on this flight?"
With an eyebrow raised and my head cocked to the side, I looked into her wide eyes and realised that she wasn't joking. I couldn't refrain from a slightly sarcastic response.
"No I don't think so, I heard that they may be flying themselves there, and they may even beat us to it as they are lighter! Well, I'm not sure about yours with it's heavy load...."
She tutted. "Oh shut it, you leave me alone, I'm tired."
I could see her attempting to hide her smile but failed and instead mirrored my own taunting yet loving grin.

The long plane ride awaited.
If the backpacks really had flown alone, I doubt that they would have survived. Rocky turbulence struck us during the flight, but it didn't affect me too grandly because I was pretty much already rocking, either like a baby in its crib or from hearing metal melodies spew out from my Ipod. Mum slept for no more than an hour, and I could sense her struggle as she fidgeted and fought back tears. She wasn't used to long haul flying. Bless her and her fluffy flight socks. She had also taken the window seat, which wasn't the wisest of moves when she has a weak bladder. Her frequent scrambling over me and the lady in the aisle for toilet trips were awkward but a little amusing. I didn't mind mothers butt accidentally being in my face but the woman next to me could have thought differently. Jeez, jet lag was bound to attack us....
Nevermind. I managed to watch three movies and thoroughly enjoyed them all. Three movies for me was quite an accomplishment as I am always trying to catch up with the current being released, but always fail. It usually results to me writing lists that seem to be endless on what I need to watch, and yet I still fail.

Customs and immigration went smoother than I thought it was going to go. It is one of the worst elements in travel for me. Usually it can be summed up with lengthy queues of flustered or frightened humans because they have either buggered up their immigration documents or have forgotten them. But at Denpasar airport that day, immigration consisted of one short line, followed by a smooth scan and stamp with our passports. The security guard smiled generously at me as he handed my passport back, and that was the moment when the start of attention this western woman began to receive in Southeast Asia. We were then in the lounge waiting for our final flight. Sweat began to trickle down the sides of my head as it was thirty two degrees celsius outside. The air con wasn't doing us any favours. It was quite a jump from the gloomy start of the winter days back in England. The airport had as many prayer rooms as toilets, and the two facilities generally sat side by side. The attendants wore a genuine smile that never left their faces and were eager to wait on you. As we sat and attempted to adjust to the time change, a man perched himself next to mum and fired up a conversation. He questioned us mainly about our voyage, but also threw in some personal enquiries such as "How old is your daughter?"
When I told him my age he let out a burst of laughter and said with a bemused expression on his face that I looked about twelve. "Why, you have a babyface!"
Well, in the past I have passed for looking fourteen, but tweleve? Wasn't that a tad too young? At least have me pass for a teenager, come on now. But alas, I would rather be defined for looking younger than older. Ten years younger? Pfft, keep that show.
The man kept spilling out personal facts. “I have three children, but just the one wife.”He then again let out a set of hysterics, which caused us to crease up too. He was hopping on a different plane to us, so he ended up swiftly saying goodbye and hurried away. Was he a little taste of the types of people that we could encounter on this upcoming journey? I think so.
The final plane ride flew by (pun not intended...okay maybe it was) rapidly as it's duration was only a couple of hours. It felt specifically great to land and grab our bags off of the hold, which thankfully didn't take up too much time.
We then walked to where the taxi drivers and loved ones were waiting, which is where I spotted my name on a sign.
“Hello, hello,” Our driver grinned, “Welcome to Bali!”
He was a short, sweet little fellow (we found that the majority of the men are short), who kept us entertained by mostly singing to us whilst he drove to the hostel. He sang songs such as ‘Happy Birthday’ for mumma and ‘Don't Worry, Be Happy ’. Because of his grand service and performance I had to hug and kiss him goodbye on the cheek as we checked in. On the way we looked out of the windows and could instantly witness the culture difference. It seemed to be another world. The streets were chaotic and when our driver wasn't singing I had the constant sound of vehicle horns attacking my ears. The hostel was tucked away down in one of many narrow streets. An endless stream of vespas whizzed by and most of the architecture was tatty and run down. The hostel was also under construction but despite that it gave off a pretty persona, and our chalet was pleasant. I rarely unpack when I travel, so I didn’t take too long to arrange my bag. I noticed that my running trainers hadn't survived the hold. At first I was gutted and confused. Why anybody would have wanted to take those old grotty things that smelt ghastly inside was beyond me. I couldn’t dwell on it however, and it was lucky that I had a spare pair with me.
Mum obviously took longer to empty out her rucksack as she had to be 'organised', plus she had triple the amount of items. Travel minis began to line up in the bathroom, an army of soaps and lotions that could have been enough for not just two people but six. Just as well that I rarely do unpack my clothes, because the spaces within the wardrobe and the set of drawers were soon occupied.

Maya Village Hostel- http://www.hostelworld.com/hosteldetails.php/Maya-Village-Guesthouse-and-Hostel/Kuta/81158

Once we had

showered and changed out of our grubby clothes, we decided to brave it out into the darkness for a while to store some much needed circulation back into our wooden like legs. We had been sitting down for far, far too long. It was a wander into the unknown as we warily made our way along the confined streets. A place always seems to be more intimidating when the sun goes down, especially one that is yet to be seen. The surroundings were certainly going to take some time to adjust to, but that was what we were here for; to see and to learn. It didn't help that our brains had transformed into ones that would resemble zombies. The slow types, you know? Not the quick mother fuckers. The ones that drag their limbs around behind them and stumble around clumsily in a semi state of consciousness, wanting nothing but the fuel of human flesh. Well I'm not a cannibal, but I was battling with jet lag and only had the image of a cold beer in my mind. First though, we had to figure out the ATM system, and managed to find one almost straight away in a local grocery store. The cool rush of air from the AC that rolled over us as we had stepped through the door, was a saviour to my head, neck, and sanity. Squinting slightly from the luminous interior, I plugged my card nervously into the machine and swallowed simultaneously with it as I seeked out the English language option. It then freaked us out. 1,250,000.00 Indonesian rupiah equaled to only roughly around 50 pounds, but I remember panicking whilst I confirmed the withdrawal because of the vast difference in digits
I glanced at mother, confused. "Are you sure that's right?"
Her panic then matched my own."I don't know," she stated wearily, "How do you expect me to know?!"
I swallowed heavily again. "Ah fuck it, I'm just going to go for it."
So I did, and then I realised how absurd we were to be getting into such a drama about it all. I figured that I was going to need almost double the amount to pay for the hostel booking (even though I was expecting to pay by card, as it had clearly started on the hostelworld app that card was accepted) but I could only draw out that amount for the time being. We wasn't going to be moving on until a weeks time, so I was sure that the hostel would be okay with a delayed payment. With the fresh notes folded and away in our purses, we stepped back out into the foreign shadowiness once again.
There were a great deal of local food stalls set up along the streets, and as we followed their trail we gradually began to feel more at ease, with our feet leading us into the touristic hub of Kuta town. Bars and restaurants a plenty appeared, with touts stood outside them and trying their utmost to persuade us to have a drink and purchase souvenirs. Some locals that worked on the market stalls or in the tourist shops even dared to ask if we had were interested in magic mushrooms or weed. I was already tripping on my soberism, plus who the fuck knew what they were actually selling? I could sense male eyes over me even through the shadows, but I didn’t let that phase me. I never think that it’s a good idea to show weakness or vulnerability in that circumstance, home or away, even if you do feel intimidated. I must have displayed innocence to two of these particular men however, because as we were walking down the busiest street of the town, they chose me as a target. I could sense that they were trouble because they got far too close and personal as they tried to 'sell' me cigarettes. Next thing I knew, I could feel my phone sliding subtlety out of the front pocket of my denim shorts. Somehow I snapped out of my zombie phase, and adrenaline kicked in. My quick reflexes made me grab the mans wrist who had my phone.
“Hey! " I snarled," You have my phone, give it back!”
Stunned that he had been caught, the sneak lost his grip and I noticed that my phone was then sat on a vespa seat behind him. Whilst I snatched it up, mum had grabbed him by his other arm, as well as clinging onto mine, where her fingernails accidentally caused bruises.
“I’m onto you!” she barked, and pointed her finger at him, eyes blazing. It didn't matter if he could or could not translate what we had said to him because our warning had been clear without the words. All of that had happened within just a few seconds and we were both in mixed awe and shock as we stumbled away from the situation....
only to then walk into another, which was a black street full of stray, barking canines. We hadn't been paying attention to where we were headed to, and almost had to run back down to where the street lights were located, retreating from the growls and bared sets of sharp teeth. What a mental first evening. At least we had managed to drink a well earned beer in a lovely place named the Swell Cafe, which played the show Jackass on big screens. We sipped our cool liquid and discussed the couple of Jack asses we just had to deal with.
Eventually we returned to the hostel, thankfully in one piece and utterly exhausted.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Swell-Cafe/214812305212297

Friday 30th October 2015

I awoke fully recovered and earlier than mum to do some on the spot jogging. She needed her beauty sleep and I needed to subside my forever restoring amount of energy. I

lacked in confidence to go outside to run as I was unsure about the Indonesian views on joggers. I probably would have got lost somewhere too. I wouldn't have wanted a repeat of the night before , which was to be in a situation where running would have to be compulsory. The barking could stay at the moon. So I improvised and pit pattered as quietly as possible beside the bed, so I could be somewhat satisfied with exercise and to also get my stomach prepared for breakfast. The breakfast was included in the hostel price and a staff member would bring it to your room after you had ordered your choice off of the menu at the desk. I’d never had that service before in a hostel and I found it to be quite luxurious. Mumma ordered omelette with toast and I chose the option of porridge with fruit. This was also provided and a plate of melon. We sat outside of our room and ate up in bliss, enjoying the healthy flavour and the rising heat of the morning sun. Once we were full and raring to go, we went out to explore Kuta properly in the daylight.
It was a very interesting town. It is also the most touristic/backpacker part of Bali, which was something that I had failed to read up on whilst booking a place to visit on the island. Australians come to Kuta in a similar way to us Brits visiting the Spanish islands. There seemed to be more Ozzies than locals. Despite their masses, I was exposed new culture and this was exactly what I was keen to see. As we walked down the main Legian street again, touts seemed to approach us at every second, no exaggeration.
"Do you need a taxi?" or "Would you like to buy this at good price?" were the constant questions that we were asked, sounding like a broken record, repeating until madness. At least we had more courage during the daylight hours. One element that you have to be aware of are the scam artists, which is a common ordeal throughout Southeast Asia. A fellow tried to entice us into his trap by sneakily forcing us to open up these cards, which hinted that we had 'won' something. You haven't won diddly squat. Or if you really have, then you would have to pay the price for your prize, which was most likely no better than a piece of shit you frustratingly find on your shoe. I could see through the scammers game straight away and I hoped that mum had too. However, she had wanted to stay and goad him, which only made things more pressured. We ended up walking away with him stalking our tails, but he got the message to stop once mother had changed her tone of voice to a less friendly one.
... I wouldn't fuck with her.

https://www.zomato.com/bali/rollaas-kuta/menu
Beachwalk Shopping-http://beachwalkbali.com

There was a little, modern shopping centre which seemed to be tout free. There is a decent amount of western stores to shop at in there, including a Topshop/Topman which felt like a home away from home (mother and I have both worked for the company in the past). We passed a coffee bar that displayed a menu full of indulgent iced coffee, so we took a seat and ordered one each. They went down a treat as our clothes were clammy with sweat. Our bodies were still yet to adjust to the heat.
Our feet next led us along the Legian beach. If you walk beyond the traps of tourism, you notice that the touts begin to drift away and you find yourself walking with some peace next to five star plush hotels. They sat majestically on the beach promenade and showed off their outstanding ocean views. Some had swimming pools that were accompanied with bars and spas. We had the idea to go ninja and sneak into one, but the security in almost every complex were on point. After thirty minutes of envy and admiration, the beach road ended and we found ourselves to be in another town, where some very cheap bars were located. Their Happy hours made us happy people, and we gulped down a bottle before we trekked back.
Back at the hostel we worked out from a free app on our tablets and sweated profusely. Then we got ready to hit the town in search for Indonesian cuisine. The choice of eatery's were overwhelming, but after an effort of exploring and when our stomachs began to wail, we made an agreement to check out a bar named Uncle Joes. There was a live band that were covering rock songs, so I was in my element. The atmosphere was brilliant, and the majority of Australians in there were wasted on local Bintang already. As we were new to the food choices, we picked the same starter and main. The dishes were light but packed full of various flavours that surprised our palates in a positive way.

https://m.facebook.com/Uncle-Norms-Bar-Bistro-162454163829018/

After a couple of hours in the bar and our stomachs had managed to digest peacefully among the Ozzie chaos, we headed out to move onto somewhere that was more on a dance than a drunk level. Legian street was hectic yet again, and I strictly told mum to keep her bag close to her as we didn’t want a similar thieving experience to take place. Promoters were in our faces, with their magical tongues trying to hypnotize us into stepping our feet into their clubs. One promoters voodoo had successfully worked on us as he had offered us some free booze vouchers, but we believed it to be a scam. The place itself was almost barren, with the odd drugged up human here and there. The bar area was absolute...so we hurried back out. Then, another bar further along just didn’t feel right, so we walked out uncomfortable and unaccomplished.

The vibe has to be of a particular level for us to enjoy a dance bar. Even Mum didn’t feel right, and she isn't as fussy with dancing because it's a specialist subject for her. We wandered for... I don't know, but it seemed like a great distance, then eventually settled down into seats that belonged to a sports bar. There was no whirling or twirling taking place inside, but we could sit up on high stools that faced the street and people watch. We made the right decision because some of the giddy beings that stumbled passed, head to toe full of intoxicating substances, had us in bouts of chuckles. Before we knew it the clock was claiming to be 1:00am, so we made our way back to the hostel, wanting sleep. Cederic could have joined us in bed that evening and we wouldn’t have known about it as we were deep under. Cederic was the lizard who had somehow sneaked his way into the room during the day and hung onto the high places on the walls so we couldn’t get him out. The harmless little bastard.

Sports Bar-https://www.facebook.com/pages/W-Sport-Bar-n-Restaurant/191281784243525

Saturday 31st October 2015

Happy Halloween. It appeared to be slightly bizarre for us to get excited about the holiday, as it was yet again a scorching thirty degrees under the sun. The little amount of Halloween decor that I noticed along the streets didn't really suit. However, we made the most out of it and decided to go to the Sky Garden. This is the biggest club along Legian street, and the best in my opinion. It costs around four pounds to enter, and from 5pm-9pm you can chomp down on unlimited BBQ and refill your thirst on selected alcohol. It’s better to get there early to take advantage of the smaller queues. The place became as coated as a jammy dodger, being jammed packed with bodies that I was forced to dodge.
But oh, I was delightfully drunk! We spent the four pounds entry fee and that lasted us for the entire evening. Outstandingly cheap! I felt like a celebrity by the time the night was coming to the end, because we had met so many people. We danced with this group of Indonesians, who took alot of photographs. They seemed to be captured by this metal western woman. One man bought me a drink without even asking and we wiped them clean in one go together. I didn't even consider what could have been in it, but I trusted the group. You still have to have your radar on though.
The Indonesian women within the group were shy yet smiling constantly. Mum and I somehow brought out their confidence and they boogied with us.
Another group that we had encountered and befriended were three travelers from the UK. One of them was a man called Daniel from London, and another called Stu from up north. Completing the trio was a woman from Cornwall named Amy. The three of them joined us in the lengthy queue to get further liquid for our leisure, and we chatted enthusiastically about various topics. They were dressed up as...I would have said the look to be 'Hawaiian zombies', due to their floral shirts and blood stained faces. Their fake blood clung on to me when we hugged them goodbye. The northerner, Stu, had asked me to dance at some point after our refills on the open floor, and I had accepted for the fun of it.
Stuart grinned as he took my hands and spun me around. “It feels a little awkward to dance with you when your mum is standing right over there!” He shifted his eyes over to our group.
I smiled reassuringly back. “It doesn't to me, " I replied, " And you shouldn't feel awkward either as mum is totally cool!” I laughed a little inside, because of how the majority don't know how close mother and I truly are. Stuart seemed to relax slightly and shifted closer to me. “Okay, well how about If I ask you for a kiss? Would she be okay with that?”
I laughed softly, because THEN I felt slightly uncomfortable, as that request had stepped over my boundaries and I had to kindly decline the offer. "I'm sorry," I apologised.
He shrugged one shoulder, accepting the decline politely. "Don't be. Ah, well I had to try, because you are a very pretty girl."
We carried on dancing until our drinks called.
The Sky Garden is maze of a building, with five floors or so to wander in and out of. It was apparently the busiest it had ever been on that night and reached it's maximum capacity. I would say that it was the most sensational night out that I had ever had, when it

comes to dance clubs. And the liveliest floor was definitely the basement, where the surreal strobes tripped out the room. The stage was opened up to the public at one point too, so it's empty space suddenly overflowed with a bundle of swaying, sweaty bodies. I was still thinking about how awesome the night had been two days later. You must, must go if you ever visit Kuta!

Sky Garden Bar-http://skygardenbali.com

Sunday 1st November 2015

I still had to take my final rabies shot because I didn't have enough time to complete the series of shots when I was at home (make sure you have enough time yourselves). We walked to central Kuta and found the medical centre. It wasn't too difficult to look up online which was a relief.
After a tiresome time of filling out forms and a long wait to be consulted, I managed to get the vaccine on that same day. The nurse was a sweet, pretty lady, and advised me on what foods to avoid during our stay here to prevent illness. She also stated firmly but kindly in her whimsical voice, to not visit the monkey park, as getting a bite from one of those fuckers would be serious. We wasn’t planning on going there anyway, as a couple of the little creatures that we had already seen in the area, that were chained up, seemed to be surrounded by disease and had put us off. It was an unnerving sight to see, and as much as I knew that the park could be different, no way did we want to risk it. I wanted to follow the doctors orders...for once. And say a big no thank you to cheeky monkey business.
Once I had been stabbed with the needle and paid for the service, we embraced the return journey as much as we could, because the hordes of chaotic cars caused utter carnage. I doubted that any driver from home would have been able to tolerate the madness. In need of a chill, we decided to check out the pool that was free to use for us in the other guest house, which was situated just a couple of narrow streets away from ours. There was nobody in it or by it, which was the way we hoped for it to be. I was whisked away to a paradise.

https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g297697-d1542438-Reviews-Warung_Totemo-Kuta_Bali.html

Monday 2nd November 2015

Another morning began with my feet treading rapidly on the spot. I must have looked outright comical if anybody could have seen me, especially because of the way I somehow managed to turn my body as I was running. The single dim light that projected from my mobile was probably the cause, since I had my eyes cast upon it's screen for the majority of the time, tapping these words out. I would look up and freak myself out as I would be facing another direction. Idiot.
I confused myself until breakfast. Mum changed out of her pj's into

a light summer dress, then looked at me thoughtfully.
"You know, it feels so much better to not be wearing any knickers under this."
I almost choked on the water that I was drinking and snorted loudly. Bloody hell, what a brave soul.
"Only you mother," I remarked, shaking my head slightly as I screwed the lid back on the water bottle. She shrugged and simply carried on getting ready. On the breakfast menu there was always a special choice of the day, and on that specific day it claimed to be banana pancakes. I instantly ordered the choice as soon as the word pancake made an exit from the delightful little lady's lips. And fuck me, did it send my buds screaming. I even polished off mums plate too as they were that delicious. Her buds swing more to the savory side for the morning meals.
Once we were ready, it was time to head out onto new ground. We passed the hard rock cafe, where a grand statue in the shape of a guitar stood gleaming outside the entrance, and we entered a department store. That was where I purchased some earrings, as I had lost my scaffold bar whilst I was waiting in potential panic at the central bus station in Barcelona, because my bus had been

cancelled. That's another story. The earrings had feathers attached to them, which tickled me lightly as they swooned from side to side in the light breeze. Mother treated herself too, and our spending only continued as we delved into the bustling markets. I spotted...well they were hard not to spot... A pair of outrageous harem pants that were splashed with a rainbow of colours. They were daring and they were fantastic! So my money departed from my pocket and I placed the notes eagerly into the woman's hand. As much as I could detect the selling skill within her tone, there was also an innocence there as she explained the situation about herself and her daughter. We were an inspiration to her and if she had the opportunity to travel in the way that we were doing then she would take it.
"You are doing a wonderful thing. I could never ever afford to leave Bali," she looked up at us warmly as she placed our clothes into a bag, "And I wish you all the happiness!"
Her genuine expression of gratitude touched me as we said goodbye, and I pondered over how so many scenarios on this trip had certainly put things into perspective already. Many want to see places but cannot, and many have the opportunity to see places but choose not to.
We soon then made a discovery of another shopping mall named Discovery, and there was even another Topman. I wasn't going to be able to get away was I?
When we began to feel fed up of the temptation around the stores, we took ourselves out of the centre and roamed to where the hot sand and sparkling shores were situated. The particular promenade that we walked along here was one of the reasons why I could see that Bali was a popular tourist destination. This section of the beach was tranquil, with it's enchanting views and soothing sounds. Not a tout was to be seen or heard, and it was comforting to be free from interruption. A certain part of the sands were designed to be set up and used for weddings. Even though I do not really understand the true concept of marriage, I could admire the location, and it would be an ideal setting to say those two little words that bind two beings together eternally.

Discovery-http://www.discoveryshoppingmall.com

Before heading back to the hostel to get ready for dinner, we stopped in the Swell Cafe for a swell tasting Bintang and visited the carrefour supermarket. It was gigantic and the air conditioner was a safe haven. I eagerly browsed through the cake section to see if there were anything unusual, but alas, there were none. I am a cake monster and I cannot help but seek out seductive treats. Crossing the motorway was almost a sheer catastrophe as we had to dash over and in front of the mad drivers in their vehicles. We were close to becoming road kill, and I really didn't want to experience that sort of extremity again when it came to traffic. But it would probably happen again.
We dined in a restaurant that served incredibly cheap dishes, and I decided to be daring by choosing catfish. The presentation may

have been off-putting for some, as the fish was served up whole, with its bones still under it's skin. The plate looked evil when I had finished it, with the demolition of remains scattered chaotically. In total, the starter and the main and one beer cost two pounds. The amount on the receipt seemed like a joke at first, because of how little we were having to spend. Before we left we used the toilet facility and, oh boy, was that a sight. It was the first loo that I had come across where you had to flush it by using a bucket of water. It became a common sight after a couple of weeks into the trip, but considering that this particular bathroom wasn't the cleanest either, it was a surprise. I kept my catfish from making an exit by avoiding eye contact at the dead, rotting cockcroach that was sprawled on the floor. Ants surrounded the rot, as if they were worshiping the dead. Additionally, the toilet tap didn’t work, so it was lucky that mum was always prepared when it came to sanitary products and whipped out some hand gel from her bag.
We walked off the food within further parts that we hadn’t seen. All the Indonesian men on the stalls kept claiming on how 'gorgeous' I was, (I appreciated the flattery but this was ridiculous) and asked me to look into their shops, which all looked the same. However, they were saying it in an Australian accent and this forced me to try and keep a straight face, because they had no idea that I was British. I believe that the cause was my outfit, as I was wearing my new pieces from the stall, and all of the Australians that come to Kuta for a holiday (which is a lot, trust me) always purchased that type of clothes. For once my style didn't stand out from the crowd and I didn't mind. I rolled my eyes at mum when we heard every other phrase of 'G´day mate' and tried my best to hide my smirk. Before we crashed out we took in a drink in a bar called the Legian bar, where we listened to dodgy karaoke. The place was quite unoccupied and I wasn't surprised because some of the voices that were being thrown down the microphone resembled something close to strangling cats. It was awful and admirable at the same time.

Tuesday 3rd November 2015

So then our final day in Bali transpired, and I woke before the noise of the alarm occurred. I was still uncomfortable with running outside, due to the humidity and the amount of comments that I may have received. I was beginning to feel drained of the attention when I was fully dressed, so to go out in nothing but shorts and a skimpy vest was somewhat unfathomable. Instead, I stayed in our room and got confused once again. During breakfast, I booked my flight to San Francisco, so I could clear the issue away from my mind. I was tremendously thrilled to go there, and I couldn't wait to meet Jeff, who I hadn't yet met and already knew that he was a

soulmate. Not in a romantic sense. To put it simply, we just clicked. Very few people would understand our relationship because of how deep and spiritual it is. I imagine that you could be reading this and thinking that the whole concept sounds untrue and silly, but I do not expect you to understand it. You know, sometimes I still sit and ponder about it as well, because of the connection that we have. Jeff helped and helps me; changed and changes me, and it is simply beyond rad. And Jeff, if you read this...I know that you know, fucker!
When I announced that my flight booking was confirmed, I noticed a sorrow in mums watering eyes. As much as she was enjoying herself on the trip, she was still rather vulnerable because of the dramatic difference in...well, everything. She was also too focused on the future tense, by letting frequent tears run down her precious face, because I would be parting from her side in January. I am strong, but her sadness weighed me down. I love her deeply and unconditionally, so wherever I shall wander, she will always still be there. It was going to be a change for her, but a change that would only make her tougher. Time can be a healer of acceptance. I held her and hushed her over the breakfast table, and soon enough those tears dried.
Another trip to the pool was on the agenda for the day, and I focused myself to a successful, hard training session so I had earned the drinks and dinner that were to be followed in the evening. I cancelled my mind from any distractions as my hands cut through the cold water and my feet accelerated in and out, and in and out. A surge of ecstatic energy consistently strikes me when I swim. Out in the waters is where I can meditate and be free. Out in the water is where I can become the water.
As I changed into an outfit for the evening back at the hostel, I faced my reflection in the mirror and noticed a positive change. My skin was beginning to turn brown and my freckles had made an appearance from the sun. The spark that had ignited in my eyes shone with an exuberance that was as strong as the current of energy that danced within my body. Earlier on in the year I had been carrying a sickness that had furiously dragged my spirit down. Both my mother and I had been through a heart-breaking stage, and I remember the period when my mind caught a mental disease, which caused my physical self to end up sat in a chair at the waiting room in a hospital. I lay down on one of those disagreeable beds that was propped against one of the four ghastly white walls of the medical room. Then I was clamped down and decorated by looped tubes, that rested on me, a horizontal roller coaster. My head pounded and my heart grew nervous; everything became a blur through my miserable tears. I was underweight,

fatigued, stressed, and the worst of it was that I had become absent from myself, as I was absorbed by everything and everybody else. So when I saw myself in the mirror with that noticeable spark and uplifted spirit, I realised that I was on the path to discover myself again and to awaken. I smiled at myself, excited for change, and we left the room for another night of fine cuisine.
We stumbled across a bar that sold rum and coke for 50p, and because it was exceptionally cheap, we stopped and sampled one.

Stakzbarandgrill-http://www.stakzbarandgrill.com/menus/
Around the corner was also a cute joint that served up both western and local dishes. We decided on a starter of cheeky nachos to share, followed by an Indonesian main. It was undeniably the most satisfying meal that we had eaten so far. The portions were huge and once again, wasn't costly. A walk was surely in order after

our indulgence, so we chose the beach views to burn some of the calories off, The sunset took my breath away (but when does it not?). Some of the beach bars produced hippie vibes as they were surrounded by colourful lights that lit up the night sky, and colourful souls that created shadows within them. I walked under the multicoloured bulbs that swung from one pillar to another, and I heard echoing laughter as I looked up at the scattered stars. It was a marvellous way to end the first week of our adventure.

Two long haired Indonesians on a vespa slowed down on a familiar street, close to where our walk was coming to an end.
"Hey," One of them started with, looking at mum, then casting his eyes upon me but still speaking to her. "Would you like a son in law?"
You could guess the reply that we both said back to this boy.
"Well, do you want to buy any drugs?"
Erm, no.
"...Do you want a lift?"
Man, they were persistent. Just, fuck off! I internally screamed, but they had seemed to take the hint and rode off, cackling under the bikes growl.

Wednesday 4th November 2015

I never managed to pick the sensational pancake option for breakfast again because it never showed up on the special menu. Shit. Once was better than never. The porridge was still delicious and was a strength restorer, which was needed for the journey to the airport. Mum had decided to leave some of her unmanageable weight in the room, and I had no doubt that a couple of ladies that worked in the hostel would keep the clothes. Or sell them. They deserved to get a gain out of them whatever it would be, as they had been wonderful hosts.
The taxi rolled into the airport and parked up where the domestic departure gates were located. Airports of course are genuinely busy, but the amount of people that were hovering outside the entrance gave off apprehension. We fought our way through the sprawled, tired looking beings that were using their luggage as resting posts, and detected the departure screens that were just above and beyond the main doors. The screens were flashing the dangerous colour red, and I had to read the information multiple times before it eventually processed.
'CANCELLED, DUE TO VOLCANO'
Was I seriously reading that? It then suddenly struck me that natural disasters happen in that part of the world and yes, that it was happening. Us Brits do not have to deal with incidents such as this one back in England, and we should consider ourselves lucky. We made our way to the Air Asia desk and tried to subside our panic. The tiny room was hot and stuffy, compact full of beings either looking terribly confused or frightfully enraged.
The entire airport had been shut down, so the masses were grinding on me. The queue for our airline desk was disconnected, and I was bemused by how all of these bumbling humans were acting. We were in the zig zag line for quite some time, but we were surprised when we had reached the front
, as conversation had mentally sped it up.
We spoke to an events manager from Australia, and her humour cheered us up. Her husband was insanely tall and some Chinese folk had to get a photograph with him. The difference in height between him and them looked bizarre. There was also a local man who told us stories about various parts of the island. For example, there is a burial site that you can visit, where the dead bodies are kept and preserved not in the graves, but on top of them. There is no smell because of this special tree that has been planted there, and it’s own sweet aroma prevents any of the nasty ones that would usually arise. I was captured by the brutal beauty of the story and the burial site is something that I would love to visit sometime.
At the desk, the attendant informed us that we could change our flight to the following day, as the airport was meant to open. A natural disaster such as an erupting volcano was something that could not be controlled, so we could only cross our fingers and toes that we would be on our way tomorrow morning. We wished our new queue friends a safe journey then made our way out of the hectic area to scramble into a taxi. It took us to the last minute hotel that we had quickly snatched up for a night.
The hotel was conveniently close to the airport and it was pretty. There were two swimming pools that were part of it, so we made use of one of them to take up the remaining afternoon, accompanied by a beer and snacks that we had purchased from the local supermarket.

The Radiant Hotel-www.theradianthotel.com

The shops were close by, but we had somehow managed to stray from the correct direction towards them after I had mapped them out.
We instead stumbled into a local village, but witnessing it wasn't a regret. The children beamed and waved at us as we passed and we returned the gesture, feeling grateful that we were seeing true culture. There were no slimy hagglers or touts up in our faces , and we definitely felt more at ease around the locals because they only showed true colours. Even in the supermarket, the attendants

bowed as we walked in. It made me question about the different classes of people; those that live in the western side of the world compared to the third world. How money is either wasted or used in an incorrect way. There are many problems that could be easily solved, but the corruption of the masses' minds will probably never bring complete peace or health...

When we later went out for dinner, the waiter must have wanted to marry me. His smile showed signs of shyness and he asked a lot of questions such as "So where are you from?" and the obvious "Do you have a boyfriend?" He also thought that I was nineteen. After the age incident at the airport I had decided to just accept the fact that I have a baby face. After stuffing our faces with copious amounts of noodles and we were free from the doting waiter, we strolled along the beach and browsed around the Discovery centre again, as the distance wasn't too far. At one point, a young girl ran up towards us as we were walking, and shook our hands. It seemed to us that she had a possible disability, and we had a war with language as we failed to comprehend what she was trying to explain to us. Her gestures and the few words that we could grasp painted out a picture that six people had been chasing after her, and one had managed to grab her arm, but she luckily pulled herself free of them. Hoping that wasn't the case and shocked over the story, I switched my

concerned eyes between mother and the girl, wondering what to do. But before we could make any decision about it all, she willingly took herself off into the hotel that stood close by and waved us goodbye. Well, that had been a trifle strange. Our confused minds wandered slowly back to our own hotel to catch some winks.
We checked on the airport status before our heads melted into the pillows, but there was no further news on the distressed volcano. I let my consciousness slip away and be free of the situation. It could wait until morning.

Warung Segar-Tuban- https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g562690-d6786371-Reviews-Warung_Segar-Tuban_Bali.html

Thursday 5th November 2015

I awoke fresh from a heavy slumber, but the light appeared to sightly darken when we switched on the news channel to realise that the airport was closed again.
"Mum, we are gonna have to find another way to get ourselves to

Jakarta, " I stated, as
I grabbed my phone and commanded for Google to appear via tap.
"As we have no idea how long this closure will be and we have a schedule to stick close to as much as we can."
I heard her sigh and swear.
"For fucks sake, okay. Well what is another option?"
Fifteen minutes later after research I come up with a suggestion.
"Erm, so I have come across this overland trip that we could do...."
The overland option turned out to be our best option , so after breakfast we checked out and ordered a taxi to drive us to the Ubung bus station, which was located in central Denpasa. The traffic was horrendous, and our racing hearts could just about withstand the snails pace of the queuing cars. When the cab eventually turned into the station, I could already sense the unavoidable scam artists that were headed straight for the car.
"Right mum," my voice sounded a little hoarse as I gave command, "Just get out, head straight for the ticket office, and hold on tightly to your bags. You ready?"
I wasn't sure if I was.
She nodded her head and claimed that she was, so out we got and plunged ourselves unwillingly into the group of men that surrounded us. I pushed them away from my personal space as I hurried to the line of
offices, with mother on my trail. I could hear her repeated, sharp "no thank you!" fading as I concentrated my thoughts on spotting the office that we had researched about online. I advise you to always take a bus that claims to be 'executive class', because any form of public transport below that is quite atrocious. The executive has air con, leg room, and a dinner included with the ticket price. The lower classes....a run down heap of what looks like almost junk on wheels, with hardly any space whatsoever. They didn't even have windows or a door, they were just open spaces....so I strongly advise to go with executive.
I spotted the office that we were seeking out and we successfully bought tickets for the following day, which cost 600,000.00 rupiah (we bagged ourselves a deal, but that was still only fourteen pounds). The bus ride was only the first part of the haul. Combined with a ferry ride, the tickets was going to be dropping us off at Yogyakarta. I had yet to book the train from Yogyakarta to Jakarka, which was processed through my mobile once we had reached our hotel.
We scampered out of the bus station as fast as our limbs would take us with the extra weight that was sat harshly on our backs. The next last minute hotel was thankfully only an eight minute walk away from the station, but we still managed to sweat heavily within that short time span. We staggered through the entrance to the plush building that we were to be staying at, and checked in. One glance at our matted hair set against our shiny faces, and one would have pitted us. An attendant walked over and offered us a complimentary juice. Some of the other freebies that we found in our room included slippers, a bath robe, and toilet amenities. Furthermore, there were three swimming pools and a gym to use for no added price. It had cost us twelve pounds each to stay for the night, and we were gobsmacked over how much luxury that we were being showered with.
After an intense swim and gym work out, we ate dinner downstairs in the hotel restaurant, as there wasn’t much outside to go to. With the scam artists lurking nearby, we were quite content with staying inside. The burger and chips that we ordered tasted divine, however, also tasting a little strange on the buds as we had been chowing down on Indonesian dishes for the past week. As we were clearing up our plates, a white rabbit magically appeared out from under a table, and casually hopped through the restaurant.
"Are you seeing what I am seeing?"I had to ask mum, in case I had somehow taken a trip to Narina. Or had I accidentally swallowed too much of the water that we were not meant to swallow from the swimming pool, resulting to not a typical case of Bali belly, but a new one named Bali brain?
She squinted before her eyes widened up. "Yep, I can see it, what the...?"
I smiled sleepily. "Best not to ask, huh?"
Oh, what a day.

https://www.aston-international.com/eng/hotel-detail/22/aston-denpasar-hotel-convention-center

We sprawled ourselves across our dreamy beds, and took in every moment of comfort because we did not have a clue on what to expect the following day. Bali airport had opened again according to the news, but we didn't fret over it. As much as were were

dubious about what was to come, we were also excited to take on the upcoming challenge.