Not quite GrassHopper, the Tyson attack, almost the Titanic, the flying French Woman and the F word
I had a sneaking suspicion that booking with the travel office next door would not end well, but it was the same price as a taxi and my thought process was that I did not need to worry about finding the ticket office at Bangsal and that I would be shepherded through the process.
The fact that the price changed three times between us agreeing and me filling in the form and paying a deposit made my little voice want to tell him to sod off, but a glutton for punishment I went ahead.
So early start yet again and I was all set for the shuttle bus pick up at half eight.
The owner of the travel shop came to meet me, but soon b*****ed off when the bus had not turned up fifteen minutes later. Anyhow to my surprise the bus turned up but no surprise it was older than me. We made it to their office at the pier wher everyone pretended ro be interested in me in order to sell me something.
I was told there are no shops on the island and I had to buy mosquito repellent etc in their shop. I told them I was depressed and hoped to die early, so I had no need for any life saving purchases.....they soon left me alone.
Then the comedy started as all the horse drawn carts pulled up to take what I guessed was the short journey to the pier.
My extremely friendly and helpful horse man carried my bags for me and helped me in the cart and then asked for a fare half of what I had paid for a half hour bus journey and half hour boat journey......to take me a few yards to the Pier !
I told him no problem and showed him the card for the travel shop owner.
I was fuming as I was no totally sick of getting ripped off, and asked him if he knew the word ass hole.
He sort of nodded and I told him to go find the ass hole that sold me the ticket and take his money from him.
Well that bit he understood perfectly and pretty soon both me and rucksack left the carriage.
I went back to the office to kick off and they said I could walk it under two minutes.
Why should i?
I tried to argue but they all managed to find something to do to look busy.
So I stormed off in the direction of the horses fully expecting to get to the boat and be asked for more money for the boat ticket. Ankle was killing me but I was on a mission.
Amazingly everyone from the office appeared at the boat and told me I needed to hurry up as the boat was waiting......i bit my lip as I tried to jump on a boat that was moored in the sea and I had to wade up to it. It was moving around like a cat on a hot tin roof, not good when you only have one good leg and a bloody great rucksack.
As I tried to get on I saw the French family from the bus that had a look of desperation about them as they were crammed in amongst all the food and locals on a boat that was clearly overloaded. They smiled but I could smell their fear of the latest addition of a fat westerner with a big ruck sack.
After a few shuffles I was hanging off the side of the boat with my feet trying not to squash a load of bananas which I think the woman next to me owned. Anyhow off we set and I was a little concerned how the man at the back could see anything ahead, but none the less we still set off.
I made the sign of the cross across my chest to the French man and he started to laugh. Next thing everyone at the front started shouting and waving to go right. My suspicions were confirmed that the captain could see nothing, however he felt the need to start concentrating on lighting a cigarette as the immediate priority.
The shouting and waving got more intense from the front and finally he moved the rudder to change direction just as the engine cut out. I was desperately recalling my o level French skils for the sentence I think we are going to die, but then saw the absolute fear on their daughters face, so decided just to smile and pretend I was not terrified. The boat started to roll from side to side, which was really worring in such a small boat so low to the water.
I took some reassurance from the locals who seemed to take it in their stride, but after a few attempts of the engine starting for a few seconds and stopping I was not convinced. Then our saviour arrived, a man at the front ran down across all the baskets and food like a scene from crouching tiger, shared a cigarette with the captain and seemed to get us going at last.
After a nervous half hour we pulled up finally on the shore and the race to get off began.
The boat was really rolling in the waves from the shore and just as the poor French woman stood up it rolled and she went flying right in to all the food baskets in the middle, some of which was a big bag of what looked like poppadoms that naturally took a bit of a beating.
All the locals started shouting and pointing at the food, I felt so sorry for her as I tried to help her up.
Anyhow dry land at last, the chalet at the resort was ace and as you can see from the pics the view was fabulous. It was almost noon, so still tender from the day before I did not want to risk the sun, so got showered and decided to have a beer whilst I sent all my look at me pics on facebook.
Got some great two fingers to you all pics with a lovely cool beer and just as I finished I felt a sudden cool breeze, the breeze that I knew proceeds a storm, and sure enough on te horizon everything had turned black.
I had to decide to run back to my room or sit it out with more beer... Well I am now on my fourth beer I can tell you.
So that will teach me for showing off.... Well it rained non stop from 2 pm til I went to bed. On the plus side, sat in the restaurant over looking the sea there was a spectacular thunder storm.....on the downside, my beer tab was an arm and a leg.
Ok, so next day was my last day and I was determined to get rid of my t shirt tan and use my new super duper under water camera. It had rained all night but by morning the sun was up. I will walk around the island I decided.
It was not far and could easily be done in an hour and a half. On the boat trip I had noticed that the other side of the island had nice white beaches, so my plan was not to walk on the path but walk on the sand as it would be good exercise for my ankle. I packed my t shirt and flip flops in a bag then decided I would need neither and it would interfere with me jumping in and out of the water with gay abandon.
So off I set with nothing more than a pair of shorts and my camera. The beach was lovely soft sand until you hit the south coast where a load of trees stuck out so I had no choice but to take the path. However this was a cross between sand and mud so was ok on my feet. I was now a quarter around the island and hit the west coast.
The beach had returned but the beautiful white sand I had seen was in fact coral fragments, very sharp coral fragments. After saying s*** about fifty times I hobbled back to the path which had now turned to stones.
Even with an ankle that works it would be painful but was now double painfull given the fact I could not put any weight when trying to hop around.
Ooh Aaah Ooh Aaah shouted.
I must have sounded like a monkey as I grimaced my way past people walking the other way. I had come too far now to turn back but I was in agony. No need for a foot scrub now I thought. After the stones came pure coral..... Now I know how Bruce Willis felt in Die hard 1 when he stood on the glass I thought.
What had started out as a pleasant trip was what had now become the norm and ended in hell.
I covered my feet in antiseptic and then went for a swim to try out my new waterproof camera.
It was beer o clock by late afternoon so thought I would go for a quick one but then met a couple from England who were having a few beers and they "forced" me to stay drinking all night as we chewed the fat.
Next morning was boat back to Bali and then a final stay in Kuta for my flight to Manila the next day.
I had planned to use the day catching up on my blogs and putting my photos on the drive, as I was miles behind. I popped out later for some food and walked past a massive drunk Ozzy bloke that was on the phone to someone and decided to point down the street just as I walked past.
It was like getting a full right hander off Tyson right in the face.
He was so drunk it took a few seconds for him to realise what he had done. I looked up at this mountain of a bloke as he grabbed me and started to slur how sorry he was.
It had not really hurt so I just laughed and told him not to worry I said as I slapped his shoulder. It was like hitting a piece of Iron.
He kept saying sorry and would not let me go as he tried to hug me. It was actually quite funny.
Right then, its catch up time I thought as I walked in to the hotel. I awitched on my tablet and then...... all the power cut.
Not again I thought, this happened last time. Turns out the electric board were still doing repairs, so this meant no internet. This is obviously not meant to be I thought, so thought sod it and went and bought some beer.
So next morning I packed up and went to look for a bluebird taxi.
I remembered being told not to take Any other taxi as they would rip you off, so I walked to the main street past all the touts to look for one.
They would not leave me alone.
Man you need a taxi, I have a taxi they would say as they grabbed my arm.
Then I saw one approach and waved it down but it was full and sods law there was an unlicensed one behind it that pulled up.
Where to? He asked.
I am ok thanks I said.
Luckily another bluebird came down the road so I waved him.
The other cab was still next to me and he went mental, I thought he was going to jump out and attack me.
Hey! He screamed. F you you F
He was proper screaming.it was like the scene from GoodFellas.
Clearly not chosing him had turned out to be the right choice.
Somehow I figured I would not be coming back to Kuta again. Ok, next stop Manila......