Posts Tagged ‘Travel’

8 More Sleeps To Go

Posted: May 18, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel, Uncategorized
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Yes, it’s that time again. The time when the countdown begins. The countdown to the next time I get on a Cruise Ship. It may only be for 4 nights but at least for a while I shall once more be sampling the delights of cruising: something I think I was born to do. So in the time honoured tradition, of mine at least, here goes.

All together now:

8 more sleeps to go;

8 more sleeps to cruising

8 more sleeps till this the big fat fella gets on that boat,

with his bird, and his [Mother-in-Law!]

8 more sleeps to cruising.

Yay.

This time, we’re going on the Azura with P&O, mainly because we haven’t been on her before (why are ships called her by the way?), we need to get the Azura Teddy and Alfie Boe is on the ship; and Mother-in-Law just loves Alfie Boe.

As the trip is just a short one, we’re clearly not going anywhere exotic such as Bora Bora or Tahiti or St Lucia or the Galapagos or The Philippines. No, we’re going to Bruges in Belgium (via Zeebrugge), often known as the Venice of the North but more importantly, Bruges has an abundance of Chocolate and Beer; though giving my dairy reduced diet, I somehow think Chocolate will be off the menu for me. Yeah, right. My one big concern however is that every time we’ve been to Bruges before, it’s rained – let’s hope that this time it doesn’t.

After Bruges we’re going to St. Peter Port in Guernsey. We’ve been there a couple of times (once on the QE2 don’t you know) before but were unable to land as the sea was too choppity for the tenders to be used to take us ashore safely. So, and given that I hate tenders, if there the slightest hint of a wave, I’m staying on board and relaxing by the bar. And for those concerned we might be missing the delights of Guernsey, don’t worry, we have managed to get ashore once before and on that occasion, Mrs Me did manage to find a shop that sells shiny sparkly things so staying on board does have its attractions.

This time next week, we’ll be packing and lecturing the boys about not having parties while we’re away and today, I may, just may, get one of my Bicycles out  and go for a little bike ride. If I do, and I hope I do, I shall report back on how I got on, assuming of course I can still [get on]. We shall see.

Until then:

Go Podge, Go.

Don’t know what to write:

Posted: May 11, 2014 in COPD, Cruising, Cycling, Travel, Uncategorized
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I’m mindful that I promised myself that I would post an update at least once a week. Now obviously, when I’m sailing the Seven Seas, on a cruise ship I have much to write about; in fact, I could post almost daily – network connectivity permitting of course.  Anybody who’s read about some of my recent cruising adventures will know that connectivity from the middle of the ocean isn’t that great. In fact for my last cruise, unbeknown to Mrs Me, I spent £300 on WiFi and all I managed to post was six updates after which I gave up. And now, here I am,in the middle of a cruise famine, I find myself struggling to come up with something to write about.

As, I sit on a First Great Western HST taking me from Paddington to home (Hungerford), I’m bashing away at the key pad and seeing all these words come on my screen and still I don’t know what to write about. I suppose I could write about my daily adventures on the rail network trying to get from home to my office by London Bridge. If everything fits together, it can be done one hour and forty minutes. In the real world of course and taking door to door into account, it takes around two hours and thirty minutes and most days, that’s how it goes. On the odd occasion however, i.e., at least once a week, something goes wrong: An underground line is suspended; Person on the line; overrunning rail works; early morning driver fails to turn up; train faults, etc.: The list goes on. The best issue to date however is when the train had to crawl almost at walking pace because the speedo didn’t work and it had to make its way to Reading (from Paddington) where the train could turn back to front so that the back became the front where there was a working speedo and the train could then do what a high speed train is supposed to, whiz along at high speed. There was of course the occasion when a train got stuck because it had run out of ‘air’: Yet all the passengers seemed to be breathing just fine. It turned out that the train need air (compressed) for the brakes. This week however , it was a broken underground train on the Bakerloo Line. This meant me getting a slow overground train – I could explain why, but I won’t – to Reading where I could catch a connecting train to Hungerford, only to see such train pulling away as I dashed towards it. This left me with a 24 minute wait for the next train which actually overtook the train I missed. Ironically, I had to change and catch said missed train for the last two station leg. On that occasion, my journey took just under four hours. But, do I really want to write about my train adventures? Probably not, so I won’t write about them. So what what do I write about?

 The Next Day, and –

I still don’t know what to write about. I did think of writing about somebody who passed me a piece of work a couple of days ago while telling me that it’s quite urgent as a customer is seeking a speedy response. When looking through the ‘piece of work’ I noted that it had been sitting in somebody’s tray since the middle of April. Had the work come to me then, it would by now have been completed, the customer would be happy and there would have been no fretting about it’s now urgent nature. Once again, somebody’s lack of forethought and planning constituted my crisis. But then I thought, no, nobody wants to read about that so I won’t write about it.

So, just what do I write?

Then it struck me: I’m sitting here at the kitchen table, looking out of the window seeing great expanses of blue sky with just a few fluffy clouds and the sun just sitting there like a big yellow duster with just the gentlest of breeze teasing the tree tops and I start planning todays cycle ride. Today, I shall cycle a 30 (ish) mile loop taking me up onto the Chute Downs from where I can gaze down and look at the wonders of nature with the oh so english fields of rape reflecting the suns rays, the sheep and their young, bouncing around and no sight nor sound of a single car. That has to be one of the nicest places to cycle to, cycle along, and reluctantly, cycle from.

From there, it’s a series of climbs and descents, up past the gliding club where once again I shall stop and watch the gliders being coaxed into the air by a winch, or sometimes, a small plane; When at an optimum hight, the glider is released and it soars silently  checking out the clouds, competing for air space with Red Kites and Buzzards before making it’s way slowly and gently back to the ground. Again, notwithstanding the small plane, all is silent and nature is at peace with all. After that, it’s a gentle undulating route back past The Swan Inn – a great place to stop if you’re out cycling / walking (shall I [again] be tempted to sample their wares?) before eventually arriving home feeling refreshed having blown the cobwebs away and taken in all that Mother Nature had to offer. But I can’t write about that. I can’t write about that because it’s blowing a hooley outside with dark angry clouds and rain to match. Also of course, the idea of me getting on my bike just now is still an aspiration rather than reality (COPD has seen to that 😦 ). So, I can’t write about that either.

So, I still don’t know what to write about.

There is of course the fabulous weekend, just past, that I spent with the lovely Mrs Me at the Millstream in Bosham near Chichester. We like to spend as much time as we can in and around Chichester and Bosham. The town, the village and the surrounding countryside is just so beautiful Check out the You Tube video by Patrick Macnee to get a feel for the area. Having had an almost complete makeover inside we felt we should go back to see how it looked. It looked LUVERLY. And with the beautiful weather as our constant companion we sat out in the gardens enjoying a lovely glass of Rioja (Me) and Rosé (Mrs Me) before wondering down to the harbour to see if the Bosham Car Wash was in action Watch the video, it is hilarious). Unfortunately it wasn’t, though this did mean that with the tide out, we could make our way round to the Yacht  Club, sit, and watch the sail boats drifting in and out before wondering back through the village wondering at the Wisteria, which seems to be doing extremely well everywhere this season though I have no idea why.

Now, Mrs Me being Mrs Me: No trip to Chichester is possible with a visit to Russell & Bromley, purveyor of fine shoes and handbags: No trip to Russell and Bromley is possible without a purchase and it was with some rightly placed trepidation that I entered the establishment, dutifully following Mrs Me. We looked at boots; we looked at flat shoes; we looked at wedges; we looked at loafers; we looked at same rather high stiletto feel shoes; we even looked at some kinky boots; we looked at large handbags; we looked at small handbags: Briefly, we looked at mens shoes before returning back to ladies shoes. Eventually with great determination, she found a pair she liked. “I’m sorry Madam” said the shop assistant, “we don’t have these in your size” (oh no I thought, my weekend is going to be awful), “But” he said, “I’m sure they are available in one of the other stores: Let me check”. Yep, they did and even better, they would deliver them to home so it was with great joy that we were able to make a purchase and continue shopping. But, I felt there was still some sadness in Mrs Me. Then the penny dropped, we had come to Chichester, bought a pair of shoes but still she had nothing to show for it. But, his Podgeness is sometimes too clever for his own good. He espied a jewellers that did some rather attractive and reasonably priced bracelets, and having pointed them out to Mrs Me, we went in, tried them on (yes, she needed two), purchased them and Mrs Me was once more a happy bunny and with that, we returned to The Millstream for more much needed wine. But, does anybody want to know about all of this? I doubt it, so I won’t write about it. So:

What can I write about?

I don’t know: I haven’t a clue, so for this week I’m afraid I’m going to have to fail my objective and not write anything. Next week, I will try better. I promise. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll include better pictures. But don’t worry, I won’t be in any of them.

Cycling & Cruising – Thank God for Both

Posted: May 3, 2014 in charity, COPD, Cruising, Cycling, Health, Travel, Uncategorized
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I’m not going to say too much this week, mainly because I haven’t got much to write about. This is possibly a good reason to seek out another adventure, most likely on a cruise ship. There is however a couple of news worthy items (in Podge’s world they’re news worthy anyway) I will mention.

1) My breathing has improved, though there is a twist 😦

2) WheelsForRotary – Ride to Remember in July is Cancelled, though all is not lost.

Health – Having reported to my Vet (more correctly referred to as a Doctor 🙂 ), ready to extoll the virtues of a dairy free diet I noticed his preoccupation with my pulse and readings from my recent ECG and blood tests. With respect to my blood test, he informed me that my glucose reading was 8.3 which could be a cause for concern but he wanted a 2nd test (with no food for 12-hours beforehand) before we got excited over it. My heart however was racing too high for his liking and the ECG suggested an erratic nature. This meant my heart was  not very efficient and so not oxygenating my blood properly. So, next stop for me 1) Blood Test (Again) and 2) Cardiology. Boo. But on the up side, my breathing is improving. Yay.

WheelsForRotary – Clearly, I was over ambitious. Following the success of last years inaugural ride and raising over £5K for charity, my goal this was to repeat the event but on a grander scale and tweak the route so that we could visit the D-Day Beaches in recognition of this year being the 70th Anniversary of the D-Day Landings. And, as it was the 70th Anniversary, I really wanted 70 riders to ride 70 miles a day for 7 days (70 days would have pushing it a bit). Well, I got a lot of good / positive feedback and positive responses from likely riders but I’m afraid the ride wasn’t to be. Confirmed riders just didn’t materialise – and so with such few riders, the event simply wasn’t viable.

There is however, an upside.

The ride has been rescheduled such that all we do is to ride [over a long weekend] from the town of Ligueil in France to  its twin town of Hungerford in the UK but still making a stop at Pegasus Bridge to recognise the D-Day event. And Asthma, COPD, Arrhythmia, Diabetes, whatever I’ve got will not stop from doing this ride and we’ll still raise funds for Warchild and Bruce Trust Barges.

So, it ain’t so bad after all. Yay.

Still means I’ve got to cycle 260 miles though. Boo.

So, with all this going on, Mrs Me and I feel the need of another cruise. Fortunately, we have a short cruise at the end of May when we join the Azura sailing to Bruges and St Peter Port with Alfie Boe. Not literally with him of course but he’ll be on board singing. I have ideas for next year (The Amazon) and even for the following year buy I need to turn them into reality. So for this long Bank Holiday Weekend, I will be perusing the Cruise Brochures and websites to see where I [need] to go.

I might also be getting my bikes back out of the garage to see if the wheels still go round, which I’m sure they., or, should I seek out a new one: Do I really need another one.

Mind you, Colnago have brought out the shiny new Colnago C60 for my 60th Year. Slurp.

Singapore – Journey’s End

Posted: April 21, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel, Wedding
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Singapore

My final, and lengthy(!), post of our Wedding Cruise.

Writing this last post about our Wedding Cruise so long after the event is actually quite difficult as time very quickly plays tricks on your mind and things that you think you remembered are brought into question when actually trying to reflect on them. But, the very act of writing allows me to relive what was a holiday of a lifetime, until the next one that is; savour once more those long lazy sunny hours looking at the sea, drinking wine at 5: or was that wine at 4; or even 3; possibly 2. Most definitely however, wine at 6 and most of all savour the whole event one more time. And that is the main reason I write these posts. Not for others to read, although I’m happy that so many do, and so many seem to enjoy, but primarily so that I can relive them and subsequently remember them as time goes by: and, as time does go by, so surely did our holiday as we rapidly approached its conclusion. >>>

Having successfully crossed the equator thus bringing us back into the Northern Hemisphere and therefore being the right way up once more, our journey continued to Singapore, which was to signify our ‘Journeys End’ and what a journey it had been. Setting off from London some three weeks prior, we stopped en-route to Auckland at HongKong (just for 2-hours to swap planes). From Auckland we joined P&Os Arcadia and sailed to Sydney, then Melbourne, then Adelaide, then Perth (getting married on the way), then Bali and finally Singapore. Prior to our arrival (actually it was couple of days prior to our arrival), we received the dreaded paperwork detailing our disembarkation arrangements. It’s funny you know, we all go on these holidays / adventures, we all love these holidays / adventures, we know they have an end date yet the arrival of this documentation always fills us with sadness. This one however filled me with a feeling of foreboding. It contained an extra piece of information. This piece of information warned us about the strict controls in place in Singapore:

  • Chewing of gum in Singapore was banned
  • Bringing chewing gum into Singapore was banned
  • Open activities of close affection in Singapore was banned
  • All controlled substances in Singapore are banned
    • But they didn’t say what was controlled 😦
  • Prescribed drugs were to be accompanied by a medical physicians prescription
  • Drug trafficking in Singapore is punishable by [Death].

Now, for those that know me, they won’t be surprised to hear me say that I’m a bit of a pill head. If I think it’ll do me good, I’ll take it: And of late, I’ve been trying various products to help combat the effects of COPD. So, before I left, I filled up 5-weeks worth of pill organisers. Of these, the morning and evening pills included 4 prescribed pills plus others that I [knew] I should take: along with a whole load of others (most of which I couldn’t remember the purpose, or name, of) that were ‘essential’ in maintaining my health & keeping me alive :-).

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Drugs, Drugs and more Drugs

Now, with the excitement of the holiday, while I would remember, most of the time, to take the morning and bedtime drugs, it wasn’t unusual to forget many of the others. The result of this was that as I approached Singapore I had 20+ pill organisers randomly filled with all sorts of tablets, most of which I couldn’t answer as to what they were. On top of this, I also take Codeine (occasionally) and I knew that was banned in Thailand and Dubai so; was it banned in Singapore as well? I knew not, so what was I to do? Would they ‘sniff’ out these drugs? What would they do? Would they lock me up and quiz me for days? Would they subject me to special searches (the type with rubber gloves)? Would I ever see my loved ones again? Would I be put to death? I started to worry. In fact, my worry was so great that I needed to go to the bar to think about my next course of action.

As I sat by the bar with a (very large) glass of Rioja I pondered. I pondered: what should I do?; what are my options? what will they do? what are controlled substances? My mind was racing, racing with all sorts of plausible and implausible actions and consequences. Eventually, I narrowed the number of plausible options to just five:

  1. Pack them all in my suitcase and play dumb: I might just get through ok;
  2. Pack them all in Mrs Me’s suitcase;
  3. Leave them all behind;
  4. Just take the prescribed drugs;
  5. Take one complete pack and argue my case.
  • Option 1 brought with it too much risk. If I got caught, what would happen? Worse case – I could get machine gunned for drug trafficking, and I would die.
  • Option 2 was a safer option on a personal level but if Mrs Me was caught, who would iron my shirts? Who would remind me to take my tablets without which, I might die.
  • Option 3 was quite clearly an over reaction (why?, they’re only vitamins for goodness sake) and it would leave me without my prescribed mediation for 3+ days and I might die.
  • Option 4 seemed ok, but would they ask questions as to why I have so many pill organisers for just a few pills. They might be suspicious, lock me up and ask me all sorts of questions, and still perform those special searches. And then machine gun me anyway, and then I’d die.
  • Option 5 seemed the better one, I could argue the case for the prescribed drugs and, hopefully, convince them of my rationale for the others, even though I myself had forgotten what that was. There was also the chance I might not die.

So, after two or three glasses of Rioja my mind was a lot clearer(!). I would elect for Option 5. This was all the more better knowing that I had no codeine left as I had eaten the last lot over 72 hours ago. Assured by such knowledge I was confident that I had made the right decision.  But first, Mrs Me had to be divested of all traces of Chewing Gum (she was a prolific chewer of gum). I did consider a ‘Special Search’ just to be sure but thought better of it. I then went through all my pill organisers and thew away all untaken drugs leaving just one complete pack. This was wrapped in a serviette that ‘may’ have been borrowed from the restaurant and surrounded with our stash of P&O Chocolates, which were placed on our pillows every night. All was then packed into the middle of my larger suitcase. Well, I think it was mine. With that, all cases were placed outside our cabin so that they might miraculously disappear overnight and subsequently taken ashore for when we disembark.

The next morning, we breakfasted at leisure as our disembarkation time was not until 13:00 – This gave us even more time to leisurely ponder our future. As the minutes and hours ticked by, there were numerous calls over the PA System for Mr / Mrs So and So to contact reception. Had they been found to have suspicious items I wondered, or had they simply not paid their on-board account? Naturally, my fear was of the former. Eventually, the allotted hour was upon us and still, we hadn’t been called. I was feeling confident.

 As we made our way ashore, I scanned the area looking for guards with machine guns, sniffer dogs, anything that might indicate trouble ahead. All I could see however was a long queue of disembarking passengers collecting their luggage, as we had to, then waiting to be waved into the next available immigration control point, complete with full luggage x-ray machines. This was it, I just knew we’d be found out. How was everybody else getting through ok? I asked myself. Surely, I’m not the only one who takes drugs, oops, I mean tablets.  One other problem though. Despite there being two ships in today, both disgorging passengers (the other was a Crystal Cruises ship), there was only one immigration point open. This could, I thought to myself, work in our favour.

As time ticked by, people were becoming more and more frustrated: there were at least a dozen immigration points yet there was only one operating. It was almost like trying to get back into the UK via Heathrow :-). Eventually, the authorities relented and opened a second desk so as to clear us as quickly as possible. Within no time at all, it was our turn. How should I play this. Should I look normal? What does ‘normal’ look like? Whatever I did, I had to be sure not to look nervous: they can spot nervous people and might single them out for closer inspection, I thought to myself. Then, it was our turn. A young lad, in uniform came up to help place our suitcases on the belt that would take them through the x-ay machine. Br careful I said, they’re full of fragile ornaments that Mrs Me has bought I said. He turned and smiled as if to say, Don’t worry, I’m used to this and in no time at all, they were loaded and on their way. I stood and watched, oblivious to the fact I was being called for to walk through the sensor and then onto have my passport checked. It was it this point that it became evident to me that I had no cause for worry. The immigration officer couldn’t have been more friendly. Welcome to Singapore he said. How was your cruise? he asked. It was great he I said, we got married, I said, pointing to Mrs Me who was waiting in the queue. Be careful, I said, she’s very bossy. Ah he said. That’s what happens when they get married, he said. You are now a ruled man, he said and with that, a look of sympathy, he waved me through. And with, we were through to join our coach that was to take is to Swiss Hotel, Merchant Court.

Conveniently, the hotel was located right by the river and handy for bars and restaurants. Perfect for those short exploratory walks out and about as we check out the surroundings and get a feel for what it’s like to be in Singapore. So, once in our room, and checked all suitcases were intact, complete with medication, our next task was to check out the bars and decide where we could have a late lunch. Our first port of call was the Octapas bar on the directly opposite side of the river. Sitting by the river, we were able to enjoy a welcoming cool beer (it was very, very hot & humid in Singapore) while watching the boats go by on the river and the rather fetching waitresses going about their business.

Hmm, I say, I think I’ll take a couple of photos of the girls (just for the boys of course). It was just at that point that I felt that now familiar stinging to my left ear. Why, oh why, does she always go for the already cauliflowered ear?  As we sat and drank, we looked at the map to work out what we were going to do over the next couple of days. We (I) worked out that the best strategy would be to take a boat to Marina Bay from where we could explore the Gardens by the Bay and then explore Marina Bay Sands Hotel and nearby Shopping Arcade (the last bit was the clincher). On the following day, we would be able walk to Raffles Hotel to enjoy a Singapore Sling as it should be enjoyed: in Singapore. And with that we went to explore the remaining bars while looking for somewhere appropriate to eat. Not long after leaving Octapas, we came across Hooters, this was another where I was to receive another thick ear. But wait, who did we espy but Adrian the ships photographer who took our wedding photo’s. I could do nothing. Mrs Me made a bee line for the poor man. Ooh Adrian, exclaims Mrs Me, what are you doing here? What Adrian said next brought me out into a cold sweat.

But I, rather meanly, laughed as well.

It would appear that as he (Adrian) was leaving the ship, he along with another crew member – the ships butcher (both of whom were contracted for the whole world cruise, and beyond) apparently triggered one of the sensors that picked up traces of a mysterious compound; a compound normally associated with explosives. With this, both the passenger and the photographer were bundled into an interview room where they were to cross examined for 3-hours as the authorities tried to establish why there trying to come into Singapore. Him being a ships photographer and ‘armed’ with nought but ships photographic equipment (that’s a camera to us mere mortals) seemed too little to convince them. But try as they might, they could ‘prove’ nothing. By the end the session, all that could be gleaned was they been detected as having traces of some black powder about them and all they could work out was that it had something to do with chemicals used in the photographic labs. With that, they let them go, leaving them with just half a day to explore before returning to the ship before she sailed for Kuala Lumpur.  So naturally, they went to Hooters for a couple of drinks. That was when I got another thick ear for laughing at Adrian’s misfortune. Hmm, methinks Mrs Me has a soft spot for Adrian.

After this, we felt the need to eat but couldn’t decide what we wanted. We walked up and down the riverside and up and down the side streets to  see if there was anything that took our fancy. There was, of course Spanish, at Octapas, but there was just about every other nationality including local varieties. We were so overcome by it all, we settled for McNuggets & Fries :-). Our evening meals, we had decided, would be taken at the Blue Potato Restaurant by the hotel pool on the 2nd floor. It was a good decision. The food was exceptional without being expensive and the service second to none: a recurring theme throughout Singapore.

Gardens by the Bay

The next morning, as planned, we caught a river boat to Marina Bay. During the trip, as a dutiful tourist I took many photos as did our friends, possibly from China, who were also visiting Singapore. As they moved around the boat taking various photos with each other we desperately tried to move out of their way until, in the end, I decided to join in and get in as many of their photo’s as I could. They seemed ok about it and we are still happy and smiley when we disembarked. Mrs Me and I now had to catch another boat to take us across the bay to the Gardens by the Bay. As our new Chinese friends they all moved together for a group photo of themselves with the bay and the hotel in the background. Beckoning me, I thought they wanted me to take their picture for them but oh no, they wanted me to be in their photo. So, back home, I’m probably described as ‘ooh look, here he is again in this picture – the old fat english man – he was everywhere’.

Anyway, we reached the gardens and having bought tickets, we joined a tour which took us for a quick 20 minute exploration of the gardens while listening to how they were constructed. I won’t go into the detail, they can describe that better than I on the website here. But I have to says, it was something else: a place to visit over and over again. I was even more amazed to find it was only completed in 2011.

Through these gardens it was possible to explore different regions of the world. You could even explore them from high above the canopies though Mrs Me did stay close to the point from where you joined this amazing walk across the sky.  Having scampered here there and everywhere we then moved inside where it was amazingly cool so that plants not liking such warmer climates could also be nurtured. Again, these could be seen from ground level and canopy level, and all levels between.

Raffles Hotel

The following day was checkout day (boooo) though our flight wasn’t until 11:00 in the evening so we still the whole day to play. So, bags packed, we checked out of the hotel and left our luggage with the porter and off we went to find the Raffles Hotel. It was in fact only a 20-minute walk so in no time at all we found it, just in time for a lunchtime drink. Having checked out around the hotel we found the stairs that took us to the famous Long Bar , birthplace of the Singapore Sling.

Just some more photo’s.

I’m bored now, so, now we’re off now to book our next adventure.

Byeeeee.

Bali – The Land of Mystery

Posted: April 6, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Well, it was a Land of Mystery to us as we had never been to Indonesia and so didn’t know what to expect. For my part I had conjured up in my mind images of exotic sandy beaches, palm trees, beautifully dressed women, crystal clear waterfalls cascading into small lagoons captured in an oasis of trees and bamboo beyond which there would be the rice fields and coconut palms. The only thing I didn’t include in my imagined images was a scantily clad Bounty Bar girl leaning on a plan tree eating a Bounty Bar: but that was only because Mrs Me would have found out and clipped my ear again. And anyway, the bounty bar advert was filmed on Saona Island off the Dominican Republic.  Anyway, what was / is Bali really like?

First of all; Bali is a small island , and the smallest province of Indonesia. Bali can be found sitting between the Java Sea and the Indian Ocean and just 8 degrees south of the equator (so quite warm) and surrounded by coral reefs with white sandy beaches in the south and black sandy beaches elsewhere. Approximately, the island is 95 miles wide and 69 miles deep (taken at its extremities). This was an island full of eastern promise: just like a Bounty Bar! 🙂 – I like Bounty Bars by the way, especially the plain ones…….

There was however one thing that bothered me about our visit: –

Tendering – I hate tendering; I hate it with a passion. I’ve had a couple of awful experiences on such craft the most frightening was on our return back from Mayreau – on the same day as the dreadful Indian Ocean Tsunami in 2004. Anchored off shore, we all headed for the tenders to claim prime positions on the beautiful sandy beaches but not too far away from the bar or the BBQ that the cruise ships staff always set up for us. Having secure our place in the tender we set off for the island, a trip no longer than 10-minutes. Off the tender we got and it was  ‘all charge for the beach’ to claim our spot with our towels then over to the bar for our first drink of the day. As we settled down and watched the waves crashing against the long unspoilt sandy beach littered only with several hundred cruise dwellers, we noticed that this year, the waves seemed to be bigger than normal and were getting bigger as the day went on. One poor woman was even bowled over by one of the waves and only managed to get ashore with the help of two or three other fellow passengers. This was our cue to return to the ship. The trip back was bumpy to say the least.  Once we reached the ship however, bumpy didn’t begin to describe it. Repeated attempts to secure to the ship so that we could get off failed: We we went back out into open water and bounced around while the ship turned to shield us from the waves. It helped a bit it was still very bumpy. Sitting there in this tender, which, for those that don’t know is one of the lifeboats, we were going up and down next to the ship with a rise and fall of a good 2 meters. The tender slammed against the ship’s pontoon with an almighty crack, everybody let out some sort of noise and we tried again. We went up, we went down, we moved away, we moved back, going up and down, side to side backwards and forwards. Eventually however, they secured the tender to the ship and one by one we were almost dragged out of the tender onto the ship. From there, we went to the bar. I still believe to this day that the Tsunami made its presence known even in the Caribbean.

The size of the Island of Bali, and its facilities, and the size of the ship meant that we had to anchor off shore and tender to the harbour side. Then came the next bit. We were to anchor 3-miles out which meant that the journey would be about 30 minutes. And so, on that morning, I arose early so that I could sit out on the balcony with two cups of nice freshly made coffee and watch as we sailed towards the Island and eventually to our anchorage (that’s yet another nautical term :-)). The morning was warm, very warm, around 76f but with a slight haze over the island shielding what is undoubtedly a beautiful island and masking what I believe to be it highest mountain, Mount Agung  which is still an active volcano though currently quite idle thank goodness.

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Now, although the picture is quite hazy, the sea can be seen to be nice and calm and all the evidence (weather forecasts) suggested that it would remain that way so I felt more at ease and just knew that today was going to be a good day. There’s no twist here, it was a good day.

As the ship dropped its anchor, which is just a great big hook, Mrs Me and I went for breakfast – Yes, Mrs Me had actually risen from her pit by this time and broke the peaceful solitude I was trying to enjoy with a “Where’s my Tea” to which I scurried back into the cabin to quickly make her early morning tea so that she would once again become the nice Mrs Me that I know and love rather than the grouchy bed monster.

Having breakfasted and readied ourselves, we made our way to the theatre area from where we were called to the Tender, in batches of 100 or so. These tenders hold a lot of people, even more if it’s used as a real lifeboat. Once aboard, we set off for what turned out out to be a really pleasant 30 minute boat ride As we passed all sorts of craft, from teeny weeny one man fishing boats to massive motor yachts  we moved ever closer to the shore. As we did we passed a whole line of fishermen standing chest-high in the sea fishing, hence the term fisherman :-). Unfortunately, I was stuck inside the tender and getting a picture wasn’t practical (a good reason to return methinks). Eventually, we made land and we all made our way ashore to be greeted by traditional (young) Balinese Dancers and two very lovely Balinese Ladies.

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Mrs Me and I (having been dragged away from the lovely young ladies by the ear) quickly located our tour guide and coach. Boarding the vehicle we were soon reminded that the general size of Balinese people is a little smaller than us Europeans especially the old fat one that’s writing this. Unless of course, the bus we had was an old school bus. In either case, the leg room between sets in front and our own was minimal. Luckily, for Mrs Me and Me that is, we are able to commandeer two sets each so we were at least able to spread out a little.

Once all aboard, we set off, with the tour guide introducing himself and the driver and explained the itinerary which he supported by giving us all a map of the island with the days route drawn in. The plan was to first visit a traditional weaving ‘factory’ where we would be able to see how cloth and subsequent garments were actually made: from here we were to visit a temple and old court house before going to see a typical Balinese home and finishing with some shopping time in Ubud where we were promised access to much treasure such as paintings, tapestry and intricate carvings, and of course fridge magnets.

On our way to our first port of call we were astounded at the sheer volume of mopeds on the streets, they were without doubt, the transport of choice and could be seen being used for transporting the whole family on one bike, even livestock tied across the back, sacks of who knows what, fishing rods, fish, etc. Once in while however one did go by with just a solitary rider; how inefficient, I thought.

Eventually, we reached the weaving factory (4-coaches had already arrived before us so it was all a bit of a jostle for a while. Once corralled like a her of sheep, we were shepherded into the back of the complex to view the old style spinning wheels and weaving things and looms – I don’t know what they’re called, I’m a bloke after all. What the created however and the ‘apparent ease’ ion which they did it was quire remarkable.

The best bit though was an old car with an old parked in front. It felt just like being in Cuba, or it would have done, if I’d ever been to Cuba, which I haven’t so I don’t really know what I’m talking about, but you know what I mean.

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Next port of call was an old temple. Now in fact, the old temple was actually called Klungkung Kertagosha, a building that contained floating pavilion, and the Royal Court of Justice. Again, we were bus number 5 and so once more we were here’d together before being taken into the complex trying to avoid the myriad of strew sellers who sold everything imaginable, except fridge magnets, all for 1-dollar: our guide did advise us though that once negotiations started, the 1-dollar actually became 10-dollars from which you would need to barter down. We skipped by them and made it unscathed and made our way around to look at the amazing buildings and artistry within.

It was now all aboard for the drive though Ubud, spotting the wild monkeys climbing over peoples cars and onto visit a typical Balinese home. Initially, we overshot it as the driver went straight by obviously missing such an unobtrusive family home. Realising in time however, he turned the bus round during which time all other traffic continued to manoeuvre round the bus as we ourselves were trying to a U-Turn. Eventually, the driver found it and turned the bus into the driveway. Now I’m not a cynic by any means ( 🙂 ) but this typical Balinese home had a coach park that could take at lest 6 buses, we were the fifth to arrive and there was another behind us, it had a massive shop, three dance halls, a carving centre and many other buildings. Nevertheless, it was a fascinating place where we were treated to a display of young children learning the traditional dance moves and the music, while others were displaying the carving abilities. Ten it was off to the shop for Mrs Me to buy something, anything, she just had have something that hand made by these little carving men, hmmmmm.

Time now for the shops.

We’d heard much about where we were going but I can’t help feeling that where we went wasn’t where we were going. We eventually parked up in a small car park and were advised that the local market was just down the high street on the right where we would be able find and barge =r for many locally produced goods, or if we wanted to, have a beer or soft drink. On our way however, we were accosted by a never ending sting of street vendors offering their produce, fans, belts, things, for 1-dollar.  We eventually made the market which was in fact a string of tat shops. We did however find some suitable fridge magnets, so we made our selection and paid the man and headed back to the coach park. On the way, Mrs Me saw a woman sitting down in the kerb with her little girl of about 3-years old, selling fans. Mrs Me took out all our Balinese Money and gave it to her in exchange for a fan. The woman was dumfounded but happy and Mrs Me was happy too so this meant that I was allowed to happy also. See, I knew today would a good day.

At the allotted time, we all boarded the bus for our trip back to the port where we would once more have that 30-minute tender back to the ship. As it happened, there was little cause for worry. OK, it was a bit choppier but given what we’ve faced in the past, this was nothing and it need the two attempts to tie ourselves to the ship for us to all get off with relative ease. Mind you, we were glad we weren’t using the ship that was actually in port.

Yes, Today had been a good day, we had seen Bali, we had enjoyed Bali, we would happily return. Bali was good.

Now, where’s the bar.

 

 

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