Homeward Bound

5/10 & 6/10: Day’s Seventeen & Eighteen

Europe to Indonesia

Last moment in Corsica. My alarm interrupts my sleep and ,while I’m tempted, I know there is no time for the luxury of hitting the snooze button. I drag myself up, have a quick shower to wake up and freshen up. I know for the next 30 hours, minimum, I won’t be able to shower. The stretch that starts out this morning…..will ultimately finish in Bali tomorrow evening.

I have a few last minute changes to my packing and head off. I find the airport easily and arrive with plenty of time to spare. I wait patiently for check in with another couple of guests, and it is a good 20-30 minutes before someone opens the check-in counter and serves me. The frustration of knowing I could have taken my time is soon forgotten as the reality that this is it, sets in. Bags checked I head back now to go and deliver the hire car. It takes me ages to get out as the machine won’t accept my credit card. After having to go back inside the terminal to pay cash, I am eventually out of the car park and lined up at the boom gates which leads to the Hire Car section of the parking area. I am parked behind another car and not much is happening. Slowly, one by one, cars begin to pile up behind me. There are people everywhere trying to talk to someone on the speaker to sort out why the gate won’t open. I remain seated as the conversations are all in an angry form of French…..turns out some words are the same Universally!!! I’m not sure how, but someone managed to get the boom gate up and stood in place to allow all the cars to enter. By this time there are about 20 odd cars filing through. I know I am now pushing it for time, so I quickly lock the car and make my way to the hire company offices. Nobody is around and a gentleman shows me where to put my key. It all seems a little unorganised but I have no time to stand here trying to debate it.

I am running now, through the airport to find my gate. I order a kick Cappucino and throw a croissant into my mouth. They are now calling for us to board but I am finishing this drink!! I’m not sure I ever remember smashing through a breakfast that quick.

Finally I board and am seated beside a Frenchman who now lives in Ajaccio…..originally from mainland France. The flight feels as though we’re no sooner in the air before being told to prepare for landing.

Since I do not have to waste time waiting for baggage I buy bus tickets for bus 98 into Nice and return. Nice is pretty. It’s large but has a small community feel about it. The streets are alive and colourful and walking through them exploring the sights, smells and tastes of Nice is exhilarating. I make my way to Castle Hill and climb to the top. They are doing some maintenance works at the very top so there is no access. I am high enough, though, to bask in the beauty of this historical city. Nice, with its many tales, still captivates people enough that the city is thriving with tourists. It is hard not to get caught up in the magic. I am aware that my strides are not leisurely like those around me, but I am on a mission-I still have boxes that need ticking before I leave Europe in a few short hours.

I cannot resist a ride on the Carousel that looks like it leapt straight out of a Childen’s Fairy Tale book. It is exquisite.

“Parlay Vous Anglaise?” I ask the man in the ticket booth.

“No”

About to dismiss the idea of a ride I resort to google translator and ask the man a series of questions, to find;

Yes adults can ride on it

Yes I can take a video while I ride

Yes he will take a photo of me on it

Yes he will stop it when I’ve had enough, because I have things to do.

Before I leave I thank him and his smile beams back. He is adorable!

“Au Revoir. Monsieur….merci” I say, and he nods, still smiling. “What is your name?”

“Jack”. Of course it is! Now I am beaming. Between me and google translator I ask him to write it down. I look at the note he slides across to me, expecting to see, Jacques.

“Just like my Dad” I tell him, knowing he hasn’t got a clue what I’m saying. Even the handwriting seems familiar. I take the simple note with ‘Jack’ scrawled across it and once again bid him farewell.

I find a post office, post my postcards to the grandkids and wander through Bielefeld ville one more time toward the Promenade. I am determined to have escargot and frogs legs in France before I go. Time, again, is beating on my door and I know I’m pushing my luck. I scan the shopfronts and am drawn to the friendly disposition of a young man explaining to potential customers what they have to offer. The couple decline and I ask, “Parlay Vous Anglaise?”

“Oui”

“You would like to sit inside or outside madam?”

“Outside please”

“You would prefer upstairs overlooking the Promenade?”

Nailed it!

“Drink?”

“Beer……BIG”

“Australia?”

Figures. He leads me upstairs and I fall in love with this place as I enter. The decor and ambience of this place is a pleasant surprise. The shop front, while nice, does not reflect the heart and soul of the interior. Before long I am presented with my escargot, frogs legs, some other surprise entree and my large beer! I am happy. The sun is beating down on me and the scene before me is spectacular. The food is delicious, the beer is cold and the staff are friendly. The setting really is just a bonus.

I watch with amusement as armed soldiers patrol the streets below. They cross the road in front of traffic which has a green light……any arguments?? NOPE!!

I could happily have stayed longer, the atmosphere relaxing and casual, but I need to find a bus stop and catch the 98 back to the airport. I thanked Benjamin and made my way back out to the street. If you’re in Nice and want a relaxing meal that truly reflects France….check out ‘The Warehouse’ overlooking the Promenade. Delightful!!!!

The directions I am given lead me in the wrong direction and I am feeling a little frenzy setting in. I ask a lady in a “pushbiketaxithingy” if she knows where I need to be. She gives me directions, I ask how much for her to take me there and she explains that she has a set route and minimum price. I acknowledge this and thank her anyway…..she clearly feels sorry for me and follows me to tell me she will take me there. I am mesmerised by this lady’s ability to dodge traffic in this thing, the jury is still out on whether I think this would be easier getting around in or harder? You have more room to move, but you’re also so exposed to nearby vehicles.

Anyway she obviously knows what she’s doing and manoeuvres easily through traffic and delivers me to my bus stop. I am leaving Europe anyway, so I give her whatever notes I have. She appears very grateful and I make time for a quick selfie before she disappears into the crowd.

Bus 98 arrives shortly after and I get on with a few minutes to spare.

At my gate, I throw a Pumpkin spiced frappuccino from Starbucks down the hatch and we commence boarding. I had forgotten the thrill of being on a Qatar plane…..wonder what this journey has in store.

By the time the captain announces we are about to take off, the two seats beside me are still vacant.

I spend the trip catching up with some journal writing and after 5.5 hrs we land in Doha. I get a chance to look around this trip-3 hrs to be exact. It is massive! To get to our boarding gate we have to catch an indoor train, then the ‘conveyor’ walkways. Feels like I’m now in another suburb! The wait is long and I’m now starting to feel really tired. When we board just after 3am, I am keen to get on and settle in to try to sleep.

The couple beside me are lovely and speak English! Not that that really matters because all three of us wrap up in the courtesy blankets and close our eyes…..no small talk here.

After 9.5 hrs my arse is sore and my feet are swollen. I limp off at Bali airport and think about the massages ahead. I am bombarded by missed calls and messages once I am through customs. My daughter informs me that a young friend has been in a severe car accident. The tears are instant and I cannot stem the flow. I make my way through customs, a blubbering mess. Sending my love and prayers to he and his family.

I check straight in to my room at Kuta Station and collapse onto the bed, tired and preoccupied with the recent news. I allow myself some time to compose myself and then head out for a massage and then some dinner. Can’t really gauge how good the massage was because I think I slept as soon as my head rested on the massage table.

It is not until after dinner I remember I am in Bali, where potential customers meander around well into the night while the rest of the world sleeps. I decide to try the massage place out on Sunset Rd that my kids and I discovered years ago. It is getting quite late so I accept a lift on a scooter the first chance I get. Now, I’m not a fan of the exposure and therefore danger of being on a motorbike of any shape or form, but the Balinese make it seem like a breeze so I’m happy to be at the back clinging on like a bloody koala!! The reality is, even in the daylight I’d probably struggle to find the same place so as soon as I see a massage place that’s still open, I indicate that I want to go there.

Inside I am served quickly and notice there is only an hour left before their midnight close time. The masseuse has strong pressure and after ensuring her it was a ‘good pain’ she continued to try to knead out some of the knots. Don’t think this is what they call a happy ending!!! I was in tears! Despite it being after midnight, the staff at Reborn continued to pamper me when my massage was done. Asked to sit and relax, I did so while they prepared fresh fruit and juice for me. There were a few others sitting around also and the atmosphere was tranquil…..there was no pressure to hurry and no indication that the staff were anxious to get out. I caught a taxi back to my hotel and crashed the second my head found the pillow, wondering vaguely as I drifted off, if my phone was on silent.

Sweet dreams

Luv you 40-leven

Deb

A Mistake From The Universe?

1 October 2017: Day Thirteen

River Bella

I set my alarm for an early start on this morning…..I wanted to get great sunrise shots! That’s what I told myself anyway-I think I really wanted a quick dip in the ocean before others meandered their way down. Even with the sun out, I expected I would see a few full moons today!!

The beach was, understandably, deserted. I stepped out of my bungalow and onto the beach, quite literally. No need to waste time dressing this morning!!!! I walked briskly toward the waters edge, my teeth chattering loudly in my ears. Before I even got to the water I had changed my mind. I did a U-turn and headed back to the refuge of my cabin-it was overcast and bloody cold! I needed clothes on-stat! I’m normally not one for breaking rules, but fair suck of the sav (pardon the pun), this had to be an exception! I strolled along the beach taking photos as the sun tried its best to peak from behind the heavy cloud cover. The photos I was hoping for probably wouldn’t be happening today, but the serenity was priceless-well worth the erect nipples!

The sky to the East looked darkly foreboding. A faint flash of light every so often suggested lightning as well. I shivered as I made my way to the dining room. In my head this justified walking on the beach with clothes….’I’m just heading to the dining room, where clothes are mandatory’ I told myself. The same staff that worked last night, served me again this morning.

“Bonjour Madame,” they greeted, “Cafe?”

God I love you!!! Of course coffee!! “Oui,” I replied and smiled.

They smiled back and the non English speaking guy said, “Grand?” I remembered this word, from either my translation book or the couple of online lessons I had attempted before leaving WA, so nodded quickly. The English speaking man laughed, “Aussies like large, no?”

“Yes.” I confirmed and laughed along with he and some other guests that had now filtered in. The atmosphere was homey and very friendly. Everyone chatted with familiarity, like they were all part of a big family, and it gave me an instant feeling of genuine warmth. As much as I was enjoying the warm and friendly atmosphere, I chose again to sit outside and watch the ocean play with the shoreline. It was hypnotic to watch. I doubted I would be doing much swimming today and felt I had been let off the hook by Mother Nature…. no skinny dipping for this chic!! I might try one of the many pamper treatments the onsite spa offered. Happy with this decision I ordered a second coffee once I had drained the first. It was good. With my second cup in hand, I tucked my feet up and settled in to catch up on some journal writing.

My senses were heightened, yet I felt completely at peace. I could vaguely hear the chatter and laughter from indoors and the sound mingled with the tiny chirps of the little birds that flitted around me, perching once in a while to have a break from their seemingly busy task. The ocean continued it’s rhythmic serenade and the smell of fresh coffee wafted toward me. My coffee was, of course, accompanied by fresh croissants that melted in my mouth.

Reluctantly, I stood to leave once I had finished. Decision made, I was keen to go and book in at the spa. The sun was still fighting a losing battle to break through and I resign myself to the fact I may not be swimming today unless it warmed up.

On my walk to the spa, I stopped to speak with an elderly couple who spoke relatively good English. I asked them about the ominous looking weather and they confirmed what I was thinking- it was heading our way.

They were quite busy at the spa, so I was unable to get the treatments I had selected back to back. I decided there and then that I would stay another night. I was not keen on heading into that thunderstorm and the idea of being pampered for the day instead, won me over. I booked the deep tissue massage for then and the relaxation package for that afternoon.

I had bits (that I had forgotten existed) that ached from the past few days’ hard slog. The massage was nice, not as deep as I probably needed, but enjoyable nonetheless.

When I exited the spa, there were patches of blue in the sky and the sun kept peaking momentarily from behind the clouds. Enough so, that it was warm enough now for a swim. I walked back to my bungalow to change into my bathers…..then I remembered. I, instead, stripped off, donned my sunglasses and headed toward the water. I dared not look around in case there were people on the beach and I chickened out. The water was so refreshing. I dived in and swam out a little way before turning to see how many people were out enjoying the little sun we were being offered. I was a little relieved to find there were not many people out at the moment. After wading around in the shallows for a while I dried myself off and settled on to one of the many sun lounges. I figured half an hour lazing around writing in my journal might be nice…..and it was. So nice, I drifted off to sleep with the sun gently lashing my backside.

I woke with a start, some time later, to realise my pamper session was in five minutes. I quickly gathered my sarong and threw it around me as I raced toward the spa. I was offered a list of alternatives and decided to try things I had not heard of before…….it’s a pamper session-surely I can’t go wrong? The first of my treatments is a Cloak Shower. I was instructed to strip off and lie on a raised bed. A curtain was then drawn around me and my body was subjected to micro jets spraying me with tepid ‘seawater rain’, which is designed to loosen muscle tension and improve blood and lymphatic circulation. It felt a little unusual at first but I soon fell into state of bliss and allowed myself to just lay there and enjoy. This treatment was followed up by a Watermass. THIS WAS AMAZING! I loved it. I laid once again on a bed in a wet area and was lightly massaged and a lather of some sort was rubbed over me. The Masseuse then proceeded to use a machine that combined a suction technique with a palpating-rolling stimulation. It felt like she was literally sucking the fat from my body….I actually thought I might walk out of there a size 8!!!!! It was a shame it had to come to an end. I was then lead to the steam room and a seaweed application was painted over my entire body and I was then told to spend time in the steam room wearing the mud body paint. It smelt like I was up to my neck in a mangrove swamp back in Hedland. Not the most pleasant smell, but the sensation of the mask was awesome. When this treatment was finished it was time for the mud to be removed. I was given an option to either have a warm shower in the spa room or walk down to the ocean and rinse off in the seawater???!!!! I don’t know how to put a shock faced emoji into this paragraph….if I did, it would go here!!!!!! You can’t wear clothes to the beach but it’s ok to stroll around covered in mud?  I would have looked like something out of a horror movie and I figured if I wanted to fly under the radar on the beach, that was not the way to go about it! I thought about it……for a millisecond, then opted for the indoor warm shower. The prices for all treatments were comparable to something you might get in Australia and worth every cent.

Back at my ‘shack’ I stripped off and headed back to the water to wash the remaining mud from my body. The sun, when it did come out, was warm and invigorating on my freshly revitalised skin. I floated on my back and allowed the waves to gently rock my body to and fro. I felt any remaining tension float away and I felt so light. I’m not sure how long I floated there for but when I came back to Earth I scrambled my thoughts together and made my way back to where I’d started.

The beach to the South of the resort, I learnt today, is a ‘normal’ beach. I made my way along the shoreline in that direction to do some exploring. Sarong in hand (but not on!), I head South. As soon as I saw a sign which I think told me you are leaving the Naturist Beach, I quickly wrapped my sarong around me and combed the beach admiring the driftwood of hundreds of shapes, sizes and colours.

There were yachts sailing out from where I walked and hang gliders soaring above me. Up ahead a couple of men were fishing. As I approached them I asked the first one, “Parlay Vous Anglais?” When he nodded and indicated he knew a little, I asked what fish they catch here. “None” he replied and when I returned to walk past him half an hour later, this has not changed! Time to give up I told him. He laughed and we chatted a little before I continued on my way. There was a lean-to that has been crafted from driftwood on the beach and I sat under that for a bit before making my way up an overgrown bush track to overlook the bay from a height.

When I passed the sign on my way back, without even thinking about it, I untied my sarong and let it fall. I strolled in the shallows and chatted easily to a couple that I encountered along the way. It wasn’t until after I left them, it dawned on me I had just had a casual chat with two completely naked strangers wearing nothing but a smile myself! This is an amazing accomplishment for me…..I felt liberated somehow. Lighter. Freer. Maybe even stronger? What started out as an uncomfortable and reluctant decision to stay here, has turned out to be a challenge I had embraced and grown from. It took me way out of my comfort zone initially and ended up grounding me in a way I can’t describe. Taking that right turn yesterday and booking in to a Naturist Resort may have seemed like a huge mistake at the time, but looking back now, it’s a mistake I’m glad I made. It’s a mistake I have learned from. A mistake I think I needed. A mistake from the Universe.

The sun is getting low behind me when I approach the bar, (yes, reluctantly I put some clothes on!) and order a glass of red. I take my glass of wine and a plastic chair and head to the beach……………. this one is for you Miss Kenlee…..my Shirley Valentine moment!!!!!

 

Selfies done, I ordered my meal and another glass of red. The older gentleman that does not speak English was playing the guitar tonight and the soft sound of the music, together with the effects of the day’s activities, sun and wine, made me feel sleepy.

Tucked away in my bungalow I pulled out my journal to update……………

……… it didn’t happen

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Goodnight all,

Love you 40-leven

Deb