King Kong our driver

On Thursday we were looking for a driver to do some day trips for us for the next few days. We came upon this guy who told us his name was King Kong. Sure.

His prices were so good I asked him what price he would charge to pick up Steph at the airport. Much cheaper than the hotel so I asked him to do that. Not really knowing anything whatsoever about his reliability, I thought I would go out to the airport with him. Off we go.

He had pretty good English so we chatted. I asked him about his name. He tells me his real name is Wayan. Now I already know that in Bali the first child is Wayan; the 2nd child is Made; 3rd child is Nyoman; and the 4th child is Kutut.

So he says, "I am the 3rd Wayan."
"What?"
"My mother had 12 children so I am the 3rd Wayan. It is too confusing so I make a nickname."
"But really now I am not so sure," he says, "I may be 3rd Wayan I maybe be 4th Wayan I am not sure. Anyway it is too confusing. So I am King Kong.

So if you see a beige van with 3 white woman and a male driver, it is King Kong and his lovelies!

Bali - offerings

The existence of and the quantity of small offerings we see every day is worth mentioning again.

I forgot to say that when we were on the snorkelling trip we had just left the sheltered bay area when the driver slowed right down. His 2nd mate went to the back of the boat with one of these offerings. He said a few words and then carefully leaned over the stern of the boat and laid the offering in the water.

Not sure what we said but we had a fantastic time as well as a safe journey.

We hired a driver today and he had one in his dashboard. He also had 2 wrapped in a plastic bag for the next 2 days.

It is so much a part of their lives it does not seem to me to be related to "religion" in the form that we as western Christians think about religion. It just is something they do. It is quite compelling in a way.

Manta Ray Bay Bali

Manta Ray Bay is where it is at! OMG we had an amazing time here. We went out on a snorkelling trip with All4Dive.com. There were 2 German divers with a German speaking Danish originating Balinese dive master and the 2 of us wanting to snorkel with a certified Balinese dive instructor age about 30 and 2 crew. Very professional.

First stop Manta Ray Bay off the island of Nusa Penida, about 45 minutes in the speedboat. Kid you not - the mantas’ width span was 12 ft – that is what Julia said not us. We got dropped over the side of the boat in a bay with quite rough water. We were told that the manta like to come here as there are some sloping rocks along the shore and they like to scrape the crud off their bottom side. Sure!   

So we paddled round or were swept along with whichever way the waves preferred and so the mantas came. HUGE – seriously. You know how hard it is to tell the size of things in the water – or how close there are to you. That is why I say Julia told us the measurement. And sure enough they would run their underside along these rock outcroppings and glide away to circle back again and repeat. There must have been a dozen or more. Paying us no attention at all as we flailed and flopped about with the divers doing the same underneath them.

Lucky for us we had left the hotel at 8 am. By the time we had been in the water about 20 or 30 minutes, we happened to look around and saw 6 other boats just arriving and letting their people into the water. Slackers had slept in! Lucky us to be there first and on our own.

Back on the boat and we cruised around to the other side of the island to Crystal Bay. Here are the fish and the coral. It was not the sunniest days so the coral did not light up the way it can when the sun is shining bright. However there were reds and blues and greens, lots of dull beige and brown as well. Lots of fishes. And a beach so they brought us our lunch as we rested ashore.

Our final spot was just off Lembongan and the water was a bit warmer here so we stayed in a bit longer. So many colours and shapes of fish…. 

Snorkelling is such fun. 

Daily offerings

The Hindus have a way of using small bits of stuff in their daily offerings. These small gifts are everywhere – dashboards of cars, sidewalks, airport immigration desks, hotel room dressers, house shines, temples, and shop counters. My understanding is that the Hindus are in a cycle of birth – rebirth – birth – rebirth. This daily homage is one way to pave the way to a “better” life in the next reincarnation. 

A banana leaf is usually the base for the items. Half a dozen or so tiny petals of the flowers that bloom everywhere are always the main component. Bright yellows, shiny pinks, ruby reds, avocado purples … just a few laid out on the leaf.   

Incense is the other main component. Usually lit, the aromas perhaps act as a reminder that the offering is there for the gods and they also help to mask some of the more pungent local smells.

As you can imagine when you see some of these offerings inside the doorways of private homes or at the temples around town, they also come in much larger sizes and are placed on a more sturdy item like a tray. These can be 4, 5 or 6 layers high with many fruits, biscuit packages, vegetables as well as drink containers. You do see people hanging out as a family at temple, eating, and chatting quietly so perhaps this is a way of sharing their meal with the gods.      

I do love to see these and enjoy the idea of them. Their smells remind me that I am in a different place. I really like that. Occasionally though, my own insecurity makes me think of the people creating the offerings in more cynical terms … something like the title of that children’s book “Hey God, it’s me, Margaret”. Look at me, over here, honouring the gods with my offering.

I must be corrupting the whole purpose with this type of thinking.

Loving Business Class travel

The situation:

05 May                The connection time in Rome had shrunk to 1.25 hrs. Arriving and departing from Terminal 3.

06 May                There is an electrical fire in Rome airport – terminal 3.

07 May                10 am        text from Singapore Airlines saying their flight would now depart from Terminal 5. I pack everything I need for the cruise in a carry-on bag and leave the books and warmer clothes (for Mongolia) in the checked bag.

                              2 pm    I google the amount of time and procedure to change from Terminal 3 to Terminal 5. Confusing notes online but what is clear is that I will have to go through passport control and there does not seem to be any in Terminal 5. I fret.

                              1730     Nicolas drops me off and as I walk inside, an agent directing people to the right check-in areas tells me the Rome flight is cancelled. I fret. I get to the AC check-in / baggage drop off desk and the agent tells me the flight is fine. She knows nothing. She asks around and is told about the fire but the flight is now only 3 hours away so we all agree the flight must be operating.

                              1745    I leave my checked bag with her and wander off to the Nexus office. Back in January I had applied for a renewal and the card had still not arrived. There is no lineup so we get the file sorted out right away with a new iris scan. They tell me the card will be in the mail in 10 days. 

                              1800     I stroll off to the business class lounge for free phone calls and computer access. I dilly dally a bit there including a final call to Margot.

                              2015      This is the set departure time and everyone appears to be seated. There are still technicians aboard and the doors are still open. I fret.  

                              2105         We depart. I am safe in my business class pod but realize I have now lost 45 minutes of my connection. I fret. I tell my problem to 3 Air Canada staff – being a narcissist I feel they might be interested. They express some concern but never come back to me with any solution.

08 May                0300   The pilot comes out of the toilet. I ask him our arrival time. 1115. My flight is at noon.  He tells me that normally the plane parks in the middle of the tarmac and buses take the people into Terminal 3 for passport control. Then they have to get to their connecting flight. But due to the fire, he is not sure. I try not to fret – nothing I can do.

                              1115   We taxi to the terminal and I can see the Singapore Air airplane is only 5 gates away.  I scoot my way past the other passengers so I am first off the plane. There is a guy opening the door and I ask him where I should go to get over to the Singapore flight. Downstairs he tells me.

                              And there is my Roman angel. SQ had sent an airport agent to fetch me – love seeing my name on a sign! The buses are standing by and all the other passengers are coming down behind me. She phones someone. She is trying to get permission to take me right to SQ and bypass passport control. The first bus leaves without us. Someone calls her back. Yes that is okay. But we still have to go by bus and the bus driver is not okay with this. My angel insists. Still heads shake No. His supervisor comes over, agrees that it is okay so we load onto the 2^nd bus and wait for it to fill.  

1130   The bus drives underneath 4 other jumbos to the SQ plane. We jump off and the other passengers start to follow us. No No stay where you are, my angel is firm with them. Up the stairs and up the ramp used for boarding passengers. The SQ check-in agents all turn around and greet us with big smiles. I thank my angel before she heads off to avert a connection crisis for some other lucky traveller. I look past the glass walls and see that the boarding has not started yet.

One SQ agent takes my passport. She issues me a new boarding pass. Another agent asks for my baggage tag. She calls someone downstairs. Another agent drags over their only chair for me. The only other people in this secure area are an Ozzie wheelchair couple who have just taken a cruise around Turkey. It is the 100^th anniversary of the battle of Gallipoli so we start to chat. I no longer fret.

1200   They announce the flight is delayed … now not leaving until 1230. An agent comes over to apologize to me for the delay. She also apologizes for not allowing me to relax in the business lounge. I tell her this is not a problem at all. She asks for my baggage tag and calls someone who assures her they have found my bag and it is now onboard.

1230    We start boarding and I am first to my pod.

1300    We ascend over the rolling hills of Roma. This delay has reduced my connecting time in Singapore to 1.20 hrs. but I do not fret. SQ agents are here to fix any problems.

09 May                12 noon   Smooth transfer in Singapore and I am now at the beautiful Sari Sanur Resort with all my baggage. I felt SQ’s handling of the whole situation and their consideration for me, my baggage and my comfort were outstanding. Would I have been treated by SQ so well if I were an economy passenger? I really want to think so. But I am not going to fret.

My parents loved to travel. In 1966 my father shipped our car out to Edmonton on the train with us and we drove from there through the Rockies to Vancouver via Jasper and drove home back via Banff, Saskatoon and a cottage rental in Kenora.

As a teenager, my dad found work as a truck driver for SHELL Oil and had worked his way up to National Sales Manager. From his driving days he knew many, many of the gas station owners and from his management job, he wanted to know what the station workers had to say about their day to day jobs. At each stop, he would get out of the car and have a chat with the employees.

He had saved money for the gas portion of our trip by putting his change into a beige linen piggy bank sack every night. You can imagine his kids’ embarrassment as he pulled out the sack at each station to pay his gas tab!

When EXPO was held in Montreal in 1967 my father saw this as a great excuse to drive east continuing on to Nova Scotia where my mother could show us where she was born and meet the relatives. We had a great time except for the Nova Scotia bit where it just poured rain every day. My mother was never allowed to forget that.

There were 5 of us on these trips. I was stuck in the middle between a brother and sister. My father always did the driving and my mother always sat up front so there was squabbling every day over who had to sit with “the hump” in the floor in the back seat. I am sure you all remember “the hump”! 

We only ever got one room in the motels. It had to have 2 double beds and a cot. Everyone’s sleeping peculiarities were revealed and analyzed during this “together time” and as I remember it the sharing went like this. My little sister never moved when she slept and being physically quite small, she shared with my father who liked to sprawl so then had the room to do so. Apparently I liked to move a lot, kicking and rolling over etc., so no one ever wanted to share with me. I got the cot. This left my brother and mother to share - neither of whom had any odd sleeping behaviours.     

So that was the start of it. 

My excitement is building as the departure date draws near.

I do love the planning part. I know a lot of people don't. This was quite evident to me when I was doing my job. My pleasure when I get the details just right reminds me that I did not just have the best job working for the best company but in fact I had the most suitable job for my personality.

And I enjoyed it for over 30 years. That phase is over and now I am going to take a trip like many I arranged for my clients.

The planning and packing is done. It's time to hit the road.

Bring on Bali!
Anne - travel tramp!