C’est Ma Vie

Six days in Bali is too much. 3 days would have been enough. I thought it would be a great place to explore. It turned out to be a disappointment for me. There were too many tourists and everything was overpriced. We stayed in Kuta for 2 nights and the rest in Nusa Dua.

First of all, when we arrived in Bali airport, my boyfriend and I fell in line in different immigration areas, since he needed a visa to enter Indonesia. That’s funny, normally, I’m the one who always applies for visas. And then there was an immigration officer who looked like he was making fun of the passport of a girl in front of me. I was hoping the other line would go faster so that I could actually switch lines, but since I have the kind of luck you would normally hate, I suddenly found myself face-to-face with the arrogant immigration officer. He looked at the photo of my passport, and of course he laughed. I don’t see what the hell was so funny, but he really was having a fun time showing his buddies my passport. Anyway, as soon as he finished examining my passport, I was free to enter. Just when he handed me my passport, he said something to me in Indonesian that I totally didn’t understand, but I got the idea of what he was saying from the way he looked at me head-to-foot in a disgusting manner. I was so happy I was wearing jeans.

The worst of all the trips I have made is in this island. It was raining so hard. We paid the airport taxi 50,000 rupiahs to bring us to Adi Dharma cottages. Alain booked it online so I assume we have a warm place to sleep that night. The driver was about to turn right but then, the road was closed for construction and he dropped us in one sidewalk in an unknown city at 1AM. We walked towards the hotel and found ourselves knocking hard on a big, wooden door without lights that has a sign “Adi Dharma Cottages”. Since no one was responding, we walked ahead and found a surf shop with 3 Balinese guys drinking beer. They were so friendly but I was so pissed off that I hated them at first sight. My shoes were soaked and my eyeshadow was running. Why in the world was I stupid enough to wear stupid makeup?

Finally, my boyfriend asked if we could use their phone and so we called the hotel. We waited for the rain to stop. When we reached the hotel, it was 3AM and since our luck was really high, the receptionist told us that we have no reservations in this freaking Adi Dharma cottages. He was smiling in such a fake manner that I almost punched him in the face to wipe off that stupid smirk.

Anyway, we finally stayed in Legian Paradiso in Kuta. It was overpriced. 75 dollars per night. Even the BB hotel in Bussy Saint Georges looks way better. We emailed the website Laterooms.com to ask about the reservation in the other hotel and the manager actually replied that there was a confirmation of the reservation we had made and that he did not understand why Adi Dharma would say such thing. It was a good thing they didn’t charge us for anything. I was really beginning to hate Bali.

I’m digressing. Kuta is a lively place, but as I’ve said before, the place was swarming with tourists. Scooters were everywhere and you have to look right first, then left, before crossing the streets.

The truth was, when I was in Bali, I had the feeling to be in a province in the Philippines. The roads were small and it will take you 2.5 hours to reach a place 78 kilometers from where you are.

After Kuta, we took a friend’s advice and went to Nusa Dua. We stayed in Swiss Belhotel and almost never left the place. On the 2nd day there, we finally made an island tour. We had a driver named Bagus, who was really friendly. We drove north and stopped by a Hindu temple. We wore our sarongs and explored the place. It was OK. But I wonder if people can actually worship in peace there because there were so many tourists walking around inside the temple, with guides talking about the history of the place.

I was so impatient to see the rice terraces and we didn’t make any stops anymore until we get there. My expectations were so high like you wouldn’t believe, and when I finally saw the terraces, I was a little disappointed. Sure, it was beautiful, but it wasn’t breathtaking or jawdropping. It was just OK. I say that it cannot hold a candle to the Banawa rice terraces.

So we went back. But not before stopping by Elephant Temple, which is really just a humid cave. The local guy suggested to tour us inside and we were very happy at first, but then he asked us to pay him 10$. We fired him on the spot. He cursed and muttered in Bahasa and gave us a look of pure hatred. If looks could kill, we would have been dead by then.

Bagus suggested to stop by Jimbaran for a sunset dinner.

And so we drove out to the beach. When we reached the area, Bagus kinda pressured us to decide which restaurant to go since there was no public parking. I hate this. I want to be able to walk to the beach first before deciding which stupid restaurant to go to.

I forgot the name of the restaurant I chose, but I should have remembered. It was a total turn off – the way the waiters were waiting outside eagerly. When we stopped by the cafe and tried to park successfully, one of the waiters opened the car door. I was so in shock because we haven’t parked properly yet and the engine was still running. My bag fell on the ground, with my camera lens in it. I was so mad at the waiter that I was about to push him and ask him what his problem was. I counted to 10. I shouted and screamed at him while he kept saying sorry. My boyfriend was so shocked that he couldn’t even go down from the car. He told me he has never seen me this angry. I was cursing in Filipino, English, and French and I couldn’t even understand what I was saying anymore.

We finally went back, after testing the camera lens if it’s still working or not. It’s a good thing it was in a soft bubble wrap and no damage was done. We had dinner back in the hotel. My boyfriend bought me all the food I could eat because he thinks I deserve it for having such a rough day. Frankly, I think he was a little afraid of me after the shouting and screaming incident.

The last 2 days were awesome. We asked the staff nicely if they can upgrade our little deluxe room to a one bedroom suite – for free! And they did. It was so huge – we did not leave the suite at all, except when we went swimming at midnight.

Anyhoo, that’s it. We talked to a couple of locals as well and I was a little shocked to find out that they were earning only 4-5$ a day. And some of the food in the local supermarket were quite expensive. I did enjoy talking with these people because I learned a lot about the culture and the different religions in Bali.

At one point, I asked a taxi driver why people put a plate full of flower petals and some food in front of their doors and inside the cars. It’s actually a Hindu tradition to do this because it helps make the business flourish and progress. Some shops even smelled of hand-rolled incense. I guess this is a tradition to keep away the bad spirits?

Taxi drivers were always asking for tips. And local guides as well. I always give out tips, but I hate it when I am actually being told to tip someone for 10 dollars. That is just so crazy. I find it really thick and unethical. And since I’m with a French guy, people immediately think of my boyfriend as rich. And they prefer to be tipped in dollars. All we got is rupiahs and some pesos. Aren’t rupiahs supposed to be enough?

Also, when leaving Bali, people pay 15$ of departure tax. Even tourists have to pay it. In Manila, there is the local travel tax for Pinoys and the terminal fee. What a drag. It was the first time I got homesick during a vacation and I hope it’ll never happen again.