The Fear In Bali 3
Some people crave fear, or at least the adrenaline which accompanies it. I hate it. I loathe the increased heartbeat, the sweaty palms and the internal lurch.
These are some of the other things I was scared of in Bali, to varying degrees.
Dogs. The streets were full of them. They barked at us. Ella didn’t care. I crossed the road where sometimes there was another barking dog waiting for me, in which case I walked in the middle of the road.
Dogs are ok if I know them. Dogs are ok in countries which don’t have rabies. Bali has rabies, so every unknown barking dog was potentially rabid. Ergo, none of these dogs were ok. Logic, init?
Motorbikes. We hired a motorbike by mistake. Our simple enquiry of “how much will it cost to rent a motorbike?” ended up with us having one for a day and a half. Ella drove. I spent the first 10 minutes saying “I don’t like it,” over and over again until she pulled over and told me, quite patiently, that I wasn’t helping her concentration much. I managed another 10 minutes before asking meekly that we take it back to the hotel and go for a walk. I don’t know what the problem was. I used to ride motorbikes once every Summer on the Isle of Wight when I was a kid.
Snorkelling. I’ve not done much of this, but I loved it. Saw some amazing fish. But every time something brushed my foot, my immediate thought was “shark!” Even though there are no sharks in Balinese waters.
Losing things/having things stolen. I must be a frustrating person to travel with because I’m always very nervous about this. I’ve heard some nightmare stories about having stuff nicked like this one and like Andy F who had his entire backpack nicked from a beach in Thailand.
What are you supposed to do with your stuff if there’s two of you, on a beach, and you both want to go in the sea? My problem is that I can’t leave valuables in the hotel, because all the hotels tell you not to. That means that I take them with me, which means I can’t leave my bag anywhere either. Should I leave my valuables in a hotel room? What do other people do? Why does no one else seem to have anything with them on a beach when I have two cameras, a wallet, my glasses, a bottle of water, two books and a notebook and pen?
Why are holidays so stressful?
Chickens. According to one of my taxi drivers, every man keeps chickens in Bali in order to rear them up for cockfighting. Or in order to eat them. The bird flu infected chickens were as ubiquitous as the rabid dogs. In my head, at least.
Other than that, I’m quite a confident, comfortable traveller.
Seriously, though, what do you do with your money when you want to go in the sea and you’re not in Australia (where it’s waterproof)?
These are some of the other things I was scared of in Bali, to varying degrees.
Dogs. The streets were full of them. They barked at us. Ella didn’t care. I crossed the road where sometimes there was another barking dog waiting for me, in which case I walked in the middle of the road.
Dogs are ok if I know them. Dogs are ok in countries which don’t have rabies. Bali has rabies, so every unknown barking dog was potentially rabid. Ergo, none of these dogs were ok. Logic, init?
Motorbikes. We hired a motorbike by mistake. Our simple enquiry of “how much will it cost to rent a motorbike?” ended up with us having one for a day and a half. Ella drove. I spent the first 10 minutes saying “I don’t like it,” over and over again until she pulled over and told me, quite patiently, that I wasn’t helping her concentration much. I managed another 10 minutes before asking meekly that we take it back to the hotel and go for a walk. I don’t know what the problem was. I used to ride motorbikes once every Summer on the Isle of Wight when I was a kid.
Snorkelling. I’ve not done much of this, but I loved it. Saw some amazing fish. But every time something brushed my foot, my immediate thought was “shark!” Even though there are no sharks in Balinese waters.
Losing things/having things stolen. I must be a frustrating person to travel with because I’m always very nervous about this. I’ve heard some nightmare stories about having stuff nicked like this one and like Andy F who had his entire backpack nicked from a beach in Thailand.
What are you supposed to do with your stuff if there’s two of you, on a beach, and you both want to go in the sea? My problem is that I can’t leave valuables in the hotel, because all the hotels tell you not to. That means that I take them with me, which means I can’t leave my bag anywhere either. Should I leave my valuables in a hotel room? What do other people do? Why does no one else seem to have anything with them on a beach when I have two cameras, a wallet, my glasses, a bottle of water, two books and a notebook and pen?
Why are holidays so stressful?
Chickens. According to one of my taxi drivers, every man keeps chickens in Bali in order to rear them up for cockfighting. Or in order to eat them. The bird flu infected chickens were as ubiquitous as the rabid dogs. In my head, at least.
Other than that, I’m quite a confident, comfortable traveller.
Seriously, though, what do you do with your money when you want to go in the sea and you’re not in Australia (where it’s waterproof)?
posted by Me @ 10:12 pm
2 Comments:
At 10:18 am,
Jonny said…
Thanks for the link to my unfortunate incident. I guess it happens to loads of people and I have just been lucky up until now. Mind you, with kidnappings and bombings in Bolivia I suppose I was very lucky.
Another cracking blog....as for the money, well I have never needed to do this, but one tip is to cut a slit in the bottom of the mattress in your bedroom and stuff your valuables in there.
Your stuff will be safe in my flat in Sydney though, don´t you worry ;-)
At 5:21 am,
Unknown said…
how about a sealed plastic bag in your toilet cistern? a hollowed out sole in a shoe? If you decide to take your valuables out perhaps drill a small hole in the sand andmark it with a flag?
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