Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009
(Been a long couple of weeks. Apologies for the lack of updates. Had work and a life to attend to, no more spare energy left to blog. No time to process pictures either. Will edit posts with pics later. :P)
Woke up relatively early for some hotel breakfast which wasn’t life changing. I think I had toast, cheese & bacon - it was dry. And I had asked for boiled water because it was either that or papaya/banana/watermelon juice, coffee or tea. None of the options appealed to me. Unfortunately, boiled water tasted salty. Note to anyone who’s going to go Bali - always drink bottled water. Always. Everything from the tap tastes salty. If you’re anything like me and prefer your water to not taste of anything, always choose bottled water. And not any bottled water, mind you. Don’t go for the one branded “Club”. Club tastes weird. Go for the one manufactured under Nestle. That’s still okay. But mineral water in generaly has that slight weirdish minerally taste anyway which really bothers me, but hey, give me some water with hint of mineral than full on salty one any day.
Took a walk by the beach with Suanie. It was really, really nice. Breezy, sunny, sandy, wet. Got our feet and slippers wet every time the waves decided to come and splash on us. It was fun attempting to avoid it while laughing at ourselves silly for not quite being able to run away from it. At this point of time, it felt like I didn’t have a thing to worry about. All the worry just slipped away as the waves rushed back to the ocean. It was so liberating to just not care. Felt like I never wanted to go back to Real Life. It’s been so long since I last felt like this. So… free.
Tonnes of tourists by the beach of course (mostly mat sallehs). Hot ones, old ones, young ones, fat ones, fit ones. There were so many white people it was almost as if we were in Hawaii. Almost. They were everywhere - sun bathing on rented beach chairs under rented beach umbrellas, surfing with rented surfboards, getting touted by #@($*@ touters selling everything from fruits to beads.
Walked back towards the paved roads and chanced upon a Starbucks. Maybe not by chance. I bet Suanie was subconsciously drawn to it because she has this Starbucks tracking device embedded into her nose and her nose led us to it. Just can’t run away from the damned Starbucks. Of course we had to go in. Had our brunch of ice lemon teas (which wasn’t salty) and sandwich and we were off towards Legian.
We did too much walking on this day. We passed by never ending rows of shops selling everything from tshirts to seafood and it just kept going and going and going. After a while all the shops started to looke the same. We must’ve walked for hours under the frying hot sun in the 1000% humidity level thinking we could get to this place called Kudeta from Legian by foot. Straight road only what. Straight straight straight. Straight my ass. We just kept walking until we felt like we couldn’t walk anymore (about 3 hours I shit you not) and then decided to stop to ask for directions. Only to find out that there were still too many kms left and that it was nearly impossible to get there by foot and not die of exhaustion by the end of it (I exaggerate here. Of course you could walk it, you could walk all the way to bloody Ubud if you want to. It’s not impossible, but you gotta be out of your bloody mind if you really wanted to, that’s all I’m saying). Right there and then, we decided to grab a cab. And I like to quote Suanie here that “That was the best Rph30,000 (about Rm11) we’ve spent in Bali”. That cab was practically life saving. I think we didn’t even bother bargaining. Even if he charged us 50 bucks we might have taken it…… actually no, 50 bucks is a little too much. Maybe 20. or 30. Not 50, though.
I have to honestly say that I was a little apprehensive about Ku de ta at first. You know how when you get a recommendation from a friend (in this case it was Suanie’s friend Ah Seng) telling you how awesome this place/food/drink/movie/book is and no matter how much you try to tell yourself not to do it you will, consciously or unconsciously set a certain level of expectation which is of course a level much higher than when you didn’t know anything about the place/food/drink/movie/book? Ku de ta was like that for me. After hearing (or rather, reading) Ah Seng’s rave about the place I was worried that it would end up to be some overpriced stupid tourist trap for silly rich tourists who didn’t know better and therefore, not meet my expectation of it being a scenic, ambient chill out haven I had imagined it to be. I was already constructing a nasty email to Ah Seng in my mind which would begin something along the lines of “Dear LYING SON OF A BITCH! KU DE TA SUCKED….. etc.”
So I was right. It didn’t meet my expectations.
Kudeta trashed it to a bloody unrecognisable pulp.
The place was in the middle of nowhere, and the exterior of it was very unassuming. But once you enter the actual place itself, it felt like an oasis. Tastefully decorated with stones and wood, the entire place gives you a up market lounge/chill out area feeling. It feels like… a cross between Luna bar and Bar Savanh but a million times better. We managed to get an awesome corner overlooking the beach to catch the sunset. But eventhough it was really cloudy and we didn’t manage to catch too much of the sun, being there itself was the best shit that happened to me in a long time. We didn’t even say much to each other. Suanie and I were contented just sitting/lying on the couch, stuffing our faces with pork ribs and the best pizza in the world, guzzling down bottles of ice cold Bintang, and chilling. It was bliss. Suanie blurted out something like “I wished you were my boyfriend!” Ghey. lol. It is a great place to bring your partner. I don’t care how much this fucks up your expectations of this place but I very highly recommend that you make a mandatory pit stop here if you’re making a trip to Bali. Evening is best. No sun? No matter. Just being there is so bat shit crazy amazing you won’t even miss the sun. Seriously, just go there.
We stayed till the sun had set, and decided to leave at about 6 plus? As if we had completely forgot about treacherous afternoon, we decided to try walking back to Legian via the beach route. No sun what, sure can! Yeah right. After about and hour or so, when Suanie suddenly realised that it was a terrible idea, we walked towards the tar road to hopefully flag down a taxi. Thankfully for us there were motorbike touters who happily accepted our Rph30,000 offer to zip us back to our hostel. Another fantastic Rph30,000 spent ever. The ride through the teeny tiny lanes of Kuta with the breeze in my face transported me back to Batu Gajah times where my cousins would take me joyriding around the village…. sigh.
Friday ended pretty damn perfectly.
Read Suanie’s version of our second day here.
People, Thoughts & Rants |
Friday, May 22nd, 2009
Sometime this time last year, Suanie called me up in the middle of the night (around 2am), asking me if I wanted to go Bali. In my half asleep mode I must’ve agreed to it because there we were almost a year later, in the Air Asia plane on the way to Bali, on a fine Thursday night.
Being the lazy ass that I shamelessly am, I conveniently left all the planning to Suanie. From itinerary to hostel bookings - everything was managed by Suanie via the internetz. All I had to do was sit on my ass, give her some indication of how much I was willing to spend (not a lot) and give my opinions on lodging and destination selected by Suanie. Hehehe, thanks a mill babe. Until the evening we took off, I still wasn’t sure of the details of our trip. All I know was that we were going to stay in some hostel, climb some volcano (I thought she was kidding), eat some babi guling somewhere, check out the sunset at some nice expensive place and make a trip to Tanah Lot. 
So Air Asia was on time - I know right, should’ve bought a 4D ticket. QZ 8395 I think. Inwardly, I was a little apprehensive about the whole swine flu thing, but thought that if it was time, it was time, let fate decide (and here I am still blogging, thank you powers that be). 3 hours and a bottle of overpriced bottled water later, we finally arrived at the Bali airport.
Have I mentioned before how much I really hate our LCCT? I have? Well, here’s a reminder, I really, really, really hate LCCT with every fibre of my being. It’s so chaotic, random and the layout so badly planned it was as if a 5 year old had designed it. If I was god I would used my divine powers to obliterate this sorry piece of excuse for a plane terminal away from face of this earth with my thunderbolts. Or a level 10 fireball.
By the time we got out of the Bali airport it was nightfall. Around 10 maybe? Outside the airport greeting us were swarms of touters. I thought that there were too many touters in KLIA, but in the Bali airport the numbers were multiplied by at least 5. Feeling hot, tired, cranky, and to be greeted by scums of the universe at the first step into a foreign country doesn’t really make a visitor feel welcomed. I think suanie and I were ready to take the first flight back to Malaysia, or at least, I was. I don’t quite know how to articulate the feeling I had at this point of time, but it was a mix of intense hatred and extreme annoyance caused in part by the uncomfortable as fuck air asia seats, partly by the touters, and partly by the fact that it was bloody late at night.
Thing is, I’ve been here many years ago with my family, but didn’t recalled the outside bit of the airport so chaotic.
Of course we were approached by a few touters charging us some pretty ridiculous (on retrospect, not really lah) prices to take us to our hostel. Suanie being suanie layaned them very friendly-like while in my mind I was screaming at her to just ignore them, but with the obvious lack of telepathic powers, I couldn’t transfer my thoughts to her. After a while they left us alone, but a couple of them had a really unfriendly face after which made me even more jittery.
We spend a little time wandering around the area looking for a legitimate taxi line or a counter, because I didn’t care how third world this country I was sure that there HAD to be one! AHAH FOUND ONE! But there were like 10 people ahead of us ARGH. We spent at least 20 mins queuing and it was finally our turn. RPH 50,000 (abt RM20) to central Kuta. eventhough it was 20-30k lesser than what the touters offered I still think it was a damn rip off. Annoyance level increased twofolds.
Not only was this driver bloody unfriendly and looked like he could rob us at knifepoint, this motherless lying pond scum had the nerve to bloody tell us that he won’t be able to drop us at our hostel front because the lane where the hostel was located at is too tiny for a cab to go through. We didn’t argue because we didn’t know better and agreed that it was okay as long as he could show us how to get to our hostel by foot. Thank you so much for the bloody vague direction you useless piece of shit. We must’ve spent what felt like hours (less than 15 mins tbh) wandering around the tiny badly litted lane surrounded by closed shops looking for the right lane. Kept asking every white person for the right direction because hey, in a foreign land, you can only trust another tourist to not lie to you. Suanie had a humogous rolling bag which was pretty damn horrible to carry about town with uneven lanes and at so late into the night, I felt so bad for her. Berat mata memandang……
I regret until now that I didn’t take a picture of his damn cab to plaster it all over the blog and other tourist advisor sites to tell everyone to STAY AWAY from this cheating ass wipe. Because we found out the next day that he could very well enter the lane through another way. ANGER! HULKRAGE! CRUSHCAB! CRUSHDRIVER!
We finally found the hostel - which looked really dodgy and shabby on the outside. If we weren’t already disheartened from our airport and cabby experience, the exterior of the hostel would’ve killed all our spirits. At this point, we couldn’t care less anymore. Just give us a damn place to chuck our things sit and lie down and a place to shower kthx. We checked in, walked in, and lo and behold, the interior was bloody fantastic. It was like we walked into a secret garden which as maintained by fairy creatures. 2 swimming pools, lots of plants, well maintained lawn. Ever 5 steps we took Suanie and I went “WOAH. WOAH. WOAH!”. Definitely more than meets the eye.
We were shown to our room, which had all the basic amenities, 2 super single beds & blankets, a tv, mini bar, cupboards, aircond, shower, toilet, sink. No toiletries though, but that was expected so no complains there.
So I thanked the heavens that something went right that night, chucked our stuff, and together with Suanie, went out to the nearest pub for some booze.
After a couple of big bottled Bintang and a glass of arrak cocktail, we were ready to call it a night….. not too peacefully because everything creaked and the walls were too thin but oh well, one has to stop bitching sometime, right?
I think at the end of the night, I might have said something to the effect that we’ve been through what was probably the worst parts of the trip and things could only get better. But not sure if it was out loud or in my mind only, heh.
No pictures on the first day because while going through our fantastic night adventures, I really couldn’t be bothered. Will beautify post later after stealing some from Suanie.
Read Suanie’s version of our first “day” here.
P/s: Mum, if you are reading this, we were never at any point of time, in danger. It was just a little scary at times, but mostly a whole lot of inconvenience. The whole place very safe one, hehe. You know lah bloggers. Have to add in more spice to make story interesting mah.
People, Thoughts & Rants |
Wednesday, May 6th, 2009
So.. my current tasks entails me to be in Singapore for long periods of time. In between my stay in Singapore I would go back once or twice a month just to stock up my lungs with the polluted Malaysia air otherwise it’ll collapse and die. Also to stock up my appetite with the food of course, otherwise *I* will collapse and die. Sorry Singaporeans, I really can’t stop bitching about the city local food. I’ve heard that food around your hdb flats are awesome but heartland areas are like another continent to me.
Anyway, one of the worst parts of going back to Singapore after a short stay in Malaysia is the waiting period for the flight. The freaking airport is like a no moving time zone. It’s like the place where time goes to take its last breathe and pass on. It’s okay if you’re in the airport with someone, or if you know you’re off for a holiday. Not so great when you are there by your lonesome, especially after a really hectic schedule in Malaysia spending time with everyone you care about and running errands, waiting for the damn flight to take you back to the land without smiles, for work.
So you’re there at the airport. You go through the motion - check in, immigration check, then move to the waiting hall. You tell yourself you’ll bring a book along with you - just to pass the waiting time during the no moving time period. Sure you’ve got the laptop - but it’s too much of a bloody hassle taking it out of your bag, waiting for it to boot, and then having the wifi function seek out a wireless connection which may or may not be working - you know lah Malaysia. Gaya ada, mutu… dipersoalkan. So fuck the laptop. You have the book. And you know you’re not really concentrating on the book because you keep staring at the watch willing with every fibre of your being for time pass but it’s only been 20 seconds since you last checked. Crap. Rinse and repeat another 30 times.
Then you look around and you notice there are happy shiny people with their happy shiny partners smiling talking, in their damn casual clothes and their damn screaming kids and their damn bright happy suitcases. And you picture in your mind squishing them with your bare hands because who are you kidding? You’re blooding miserable and everybody else around you should feel just like you goddamnit. Argh screaming kids. I hate screaming kids. Slap the parents! Mind squish everyone!
You read another paragraph of your book. Watch check. Oh god why is it taking so long. Look up and see what’s playing on the LCD above you. What’s the point? It’s muted anyway. Your eyes are too lazy to move anywhere else so it stays staring at the LCD. Oh good, it’s almost time to go… but WAIT where is the bloody plane? Ding dong. Sorry your flight is delayed by another 30 bloody minutes. Fuck you Air Asia. Out of 10 flights I’ve taken with you you’ve been late 8 fucking times. Paragraph, watch, LCD, mindsquish. Rinse and repeat.
Plane finally comes. You go in. Sit in the miserable cramp seat. Paragraphs, watch check. Served paid in advance single serving food. Eat it without tasting anything. Touch down. Get out. Immigration. Taxi. 90 minutes later it’s just you, your luggage and your dark, empty, apartment.
Then that familiar feeling creeps into you, that feeling which clutches at your stomach, squeezes your heart, clouds your head with greyness, steals away all your happiness.
Ohai, loneliness.
It usually goes away after a few days. But the first night is always the hardest to get by.
Thoughts & Rants |
Wednesday, March 18th, 2009
Why must people stand right in front of the damn MRT door?
And I saw this crazed woman who dashed into the train immediately after the train door opened for the priority seat, nearly knocking over an aging uncle. He was so sian, he walked out of the train to wait for the next one. All this time - she was conveniently looking the other way.
Little things like that annoys the shit out of me.
Hulksmash kill them all.
Thoughts & Rants |
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