So in the weeks leading up to leaving Bali, I had a lot of work to do. Apparently I shouldn’t live anywhere because I accumulate crap…lots of crap. If I have a backpack and only a backpack for all my stuff it’s fine and I keep it under the limit but give me a house and I will fill it with stuff. Plus I had lots of horrible clothes that I brought to Bali with me, that I no longer wanted and nicer things that I had bought in Bali that I wanted to keep. (Wow, this might be a really boring post- sorry).
Oh, and I had a cat to get rid of as well. My poor darling Fry. This was a drama on top of a drama. A family had arranged to take Fry, knowing full well that he was about 8 months old only to suddenly change their minds because he was too old and they wanted a baby kitten. So I was lost, the rest of the stuff- who cares but I love my little Fry. I couldn’t just leave him. I made an arrangement with the girl that was moving into my house, if I trained Fry to poop outside, she would look after him. I have now heard that this is not the case and she shoos him away and out of her house and it makes me want to murder her. …..Sorry, that was a side story.
Yes, anyway…I got rid of the majority of my stuff, left things for people or threw it away and managed to pack the rest in my backpack. It was a miracle it all fit. And it’s a miracle that I didn’t lose my mind while packing because it was 40 degrees that day and I was tired and stressed. I think the phrase, “Fuck it. I’m not going”, came out of my mouth a few times. But alas I did go, I got in my taxi and cried all the way to the airport, with the taxi driver looking at me like I was insane for leaving Bali and for crying about it.
I made it to Ngurah Rai airport with LOADS of time to spare because I am a freak when I travel and I would rather wait for hours then rush …yep. But it’s kind of good because in typical Bali fashion there were issues, like when my mom and stepdad booked the flight for me they forgot to pay for checked baggage. Now this wasn’t such a big problem, I could afford it but the problem was that I had changed all of my Rupiah into Aussie dollars and the check in desk didn’t take cards. I had to change my valuable AUD back into shitty IDR at a ridiculous rate because I was already through security and they wouldn’t let me back out to the ATM. I spent my change on Balinese airport sushi – I like to live on the edge.
It was time to board the plane and thankfully my Bali sushi wasn’t reacting badly. But this was it, I was actually leaving Bali. I managed to survive, Bali didn’t kill me. Now I just had to survive the real world.
After a monumental 14 hour trip that should have only taken 5 hours I had flown straight, I managed to get to Sydney and meet up with my friend, Bryon at the airport. As I was waiting outside the airport, another Canadian girl (I could tell by the maple leaf patch on her backpack and her Roots sweatshirt) came running out of the airport into the arms of her friend screaming, “It’s cold. It’s cold!” and jumping up and down. I hear you sister.
I felt very lonely as I stood outside the airport watching everyone being greeted by their loved ones. Where was Bryon? Then my phone beeped – contact! “Turn around, dickhead”. Oh Bryon, loving as ever. I turned and then there was my ride, my great friend Bryon (who I knew from Bali). “We are going to have an adventure”, he said smiling.
Part 2 …..following soon.