Tag 36: Hello at Ballermann

04.08.2016

And the journey continues. This time to Bali, which I am already familiar with. The flight there starts spectacularly. Our flight number, correct time, and airline appear to be for a different destination airport. Gradually, our comfortable non-stop flight to Bali turns out to be a spontaneously rebooked flight to Badung, from where we will continue to Bali. If you were to do something like this in Europe, and not inform the passengers, I'm sure there would be protests and not just one misunderstood legal expert from Meidling, who would threaten to sue for the moon in broken English with a flushed face.

However, here we have no choice but to leave the plane in Badung, and after a thirty-minute walk through unmarked gates, take the same seat in the same plane. At this point, it should be mentioned that some Asians really get on my nerves, to the point that I should not put my true thoughts on paper, let alone publish them. Accordingly, my anticipation for civilized Australia is more than great after spending five weeks on this continent.

After a five-hour flight, we arrive in Bali, and already at the airport, we experience what will determine our stay here for the next three days: high prices. The Balinese people, who are located in the Mallorca of Asia, want almost €20 for a taxi ride (thirty minutes). If you have only paid €2 for an overnight stay, this price increase in the same country is a heavy blow.

What becomes apparent soon after we pay a little less for our taxi and is in stark contrast to what I experienced during my first visit seven years ago: the traffic and therefore the air quality are a disaster. After India, this is probably the second most stressful traffic we have had to endure in the last month.

Arriving at the hotel, which is incredibly luxurious and incredibly expensive by Indonesian standards, but only considered the lowest class in Bali, we treat ourselves to a good night's sleep.

In the evening, we go to a local pizzeria, and I have to honestly admit that eating Western food that actually passes as such delights my stomach and taste buds more than anything.

Not much else happens on this evening. After a short but nice walk along the hundreds of stands that sell anything that can be counterfeited, we find our way back to bed and are relieved that we don't have to travel around for the next three days.

Gudi's glorious laws:

Don't go to bed with sandy feet!

Don't worry, I am a man of action, so I would never do something half-heartedly. In my opinion, Gudi's rule is only half-heartedly implemented. Since I am sandy all over my body after our short walk (please don't ask why, probably sand from Sumatra), I lie down in our freshly made bed, completely coated as I am.

Today, three days later, we have very open pores. This is mainly because sand in the bed is difficult to remove, which is why I would now consider Gudi's rule to be one of the more sensible ones and will support it in the future.