Free Days

After a sleepless night thanks to a penetrating porch light, humidity imitating a swimming and a three hour time difference, I was wide awake from 4am.

After desperate tossing and turning and counting geckos on the wall, I decided on a walk along the beach. As I left the hostel I was immediately confronted with a smell, a strange mix of incence, humidity and fermenting fruit, impregnated in my mind from my first, and only other, trip to Bali, 23 years ago.

The beach was dark and deserted save for a group of intoxicated party-goers and a fisherman. A stroll along the road quickly took me to the source of the drunks - Club Double Six. A world away from my state of mind.

Eventually I got hungry and sighted a patio with tables and chairs and a sign that said "We serve breakfast, lunch, dinner". I looked around and realised, unfortunately, there was only a buffet. I sat down. Strange, no one was really acknowledging me. It took a while, but it slowly dawned on me that I'd walked in on a hotel's buffet breakfast, and no one had questioned me on it. How often does this happen? I sat and waited, wondering if they'd discover the imposter amongst their ranks.

I started with a cautious stroll past the piles of food and back to my table. No reaction. Next I got myself a coffee. Still no sign that there was going to be a sudden rush to frog march me off the premises. I shrugged inwardly - these fancy hotel patrons weren't going to miss an egg and a piece of toast or two - then I set off, ordering my eggs, and not even putting a dent in the unnecessarily large smorgasbord. As I ate my food I did have 'one of things is not like the other' running through my head. What really made my laugh was my exit, merrily ambling up the path to my pretend hotel room.

So, that was the beginning of my day. That night I was meant to pick Jess up from the airport at 8:45pm and had even ordered a taxi for 8pm just to make sure she wouldn't be left stranded. 8:10pm rolled around and I started to get restless. A taxi did pull up outside the hotel but two tall bonde guys started haulting their backpacks in the boot. Impatience got the better of me so I asked them if I could share a cab to the airport. And so it was that I finished the day with a free ride (because they refused to let me contribute) with some lovely guys from Norway.

Joey Goes to Bali - keeping up the tradition

Oh dear, it seems that some things just never change.

Welcome to Instalment Two of Joey Goes...

This time Joey is going to Bali. A short whirlwind visit, brought on by the celebration of the marital union between my friends Scott and Claire.

Now, to relate to you the beginning of my adventure:

For those of you that kept up with my previous journey, y0u will know I started it with a bang. Nothing like losing a plane ticket just before you're about to check in to get that adrenalin pumping. As my lovely boyfriend will eagerly attest to, I have a rather pig-headed mindset that I am always right. Given the following events, he might have some evidence to back him up. But I can already tell you it will do nothing to put a kink in my self-belief. So, there I am at Sydney airport, super early. I kill an hour writing a letter, glance up at the monitors and check the gate. 58. Ok, usual customs area to go through. Get through security and, as usual, am 'randomly selected' to be scrutinised in detaiI.

I stroll through the duty free shop, sample some Baileys (what? something wrong with 10am liquours?), find a free internet station and proceed to do all the things I didn't get to do at home. Strange.... I still haven't heard any final calls from my flight. Go to 59. Hmmm... China Airways? My heart rate starts picking up pace. I spin around and search for another monitor. 10:55am - Auckland, 10:55am - Taiwan, 11:05am - Auckland.... what? No 11am Denpasar???

I rush to a counter, "Excuse me. I think I've missed my flight". I'm having flashbacks to San Francisco where, after waiting for four hours, I miss my flight by 5 minutes.

Turns out I'm at the completely wrong end of the international terminal. Gate 30 people are meant to go through customs in a totally different area.

I have to bolt back through duty free, down escalors, jump on a bus, get shuttled around all the backsides of the planes, solo, run along more corridors and more duty free shops to be greeted by staff. Clearly they're waiting for that one inconsiderate passanger holding up the whole plane. The groundstaff lady berates me. "It clearly says Gate THIRTY on your boarding pass. We were just about to unload your luggage".

I have no answer.

I walk to my seat, head down, sure that everone knows it's me they've been waiting for.

Departure was 11am. 11:25am rolls around and we still haven't pulled away from the gate. Seems we're still waiting for clearance. Wow, who knew I could single handedly screw up a flight schedule?

So, I arrive in Bali, switch on my phone, and am greeted with 8 missed calls and various texts. Apparently my sister, who was meant to be arriving later that night, wasn't allowed to get on the plane. Passport wasn't valid for the minimum 6 months. I'm so happy to have my little sister starting off her travelling career in the traditions set by myself, and if I'm not mistaken, my mother too. Some things can never change.