A Paradise Asleep

Today my worrying thoughts gravitate more than ever to the mesmerising island of Bali, Indonesia - my happy place.

If it wasn't for this devastating, unforeseeable Covid-19 pandemic, I would once again excitedly board a plane tonight, with gifts in hand, to surprise the tropical, spirited island and its beautiful, humble people.

I close my eyes and clearly imagine the familiar, warm, laid back, uplifting vibe on the stunning Seminyak beach carrying the many friendly, jovial beach workers, eager to chat and sell their precious treasures.

I envision soaking up the sun and surf by day, and later watching a brilliant sea of multi-coloured beach umbrellas and beanbags set up by strong, efficient, young, Balinese men, ready for the evening guests to comfortably experience the exquisite island's extraordinary, ever-changing sunsets.

I reminisce of my lovely, temporary home at Puri Saron Hotel in Seminyak, where I predominantly stay. The picturesque environment, right on the beach, never fails to spoil me with the peace, serenity and an ocean scent I long for.

My spacious room typically overlooks beautifully-maintained, tropical gardens, complete with a Balinese kitty, who loves to keep me company and whom I adore taking under my wing for the duration of my visits.

I feel a deep gratitude for the passionate, efficient hotel staff, who endlessly offer to move mountains, assuring my happiness and comfort, not that there is ever any need.

I am completely in my element in Bali, as soon as my feet touch Indonesian soil and I smell the sweet aroma of familiar, exotic incense.

I recall the exquisite, handmade canang sari, sacredly, mindfully placed mornings and evenings at each entrance of occupied buildings as prayer and praise offerings to the Hindu gods. I laugh remembering the cheeky tupai seemingly scurrying from nowhere to nibble at the delicious gifts when they think no one is watching.

How I miss the hustle and bustle of chaotic, yet organised, scooter and pedestrian traffic, and roaming, stray animals I love to feed. I am continually prepared with pet food I purchase on my way to Seminyak from the airport, tucked readily inside my handbag.

I miss the soulful variations of restaurant music, sometimes confusingly blending into one, and the waft of delicious Indonesian cuisine teasing my taste buds.

I am in awe of the many luminous, colored lights and dancing lanterns every which way I turn during dusk, while spasmodic fireworks spray magnificent rainbows above the beach musicians, brilliantly lighting up the night sky.

I long for the freedom of wearing light clothing and feeling the soothing, hot sun and gentle breeze stroke my skin during daily beach strolls. The worries I carry from home at times, simply melt away and become insignificant, even if only for a little while, but always long enough to nurture my soul.

I miss devouring my regular, fresh coconuts I buy amidst my beach walks, either from Cookie's Bar in Legian or a gorgeous, local mother of five in Seminyak, whose glowing, grateful smile is forever etched in my mind.

I dream of sipping a few araks in the evenings poured by my adopted son and favorite bartender, while admiring and applauding my talented Balinese musician family at Santa Fe Bar & Grill. On foot I head there most nights, pausing to greet and chat with the many shop keepers and bar staff I've met over time and grown fond of along the way.

I miss Villa Kitty Animal Shelter, now situated in Lodtunduh, where I'm given endless cuddles from eager, adorable Balinese fluff balls longing to soak up my attention and ample love. How I wish I could fly them all to Australia to give them a deserving forever home on our spacious, welcoming farm.

But mostly I yearn for my cherished, accommodating Balinese friends and family, who have graciously invited and included me in beautiful weddings and significant ceremonies held in their authentic villages, far away from the tourist precinct. Occasionally they've taken me home just to meet their extended families.

I cannot tell you how honored and humbled I felt … and now my heart bleeds for each and every one of them during these uncertain times.

Will there still be a Bali tourist island, as we know it, in future?

The Balinese are resourceful people with a positive, faithful attitude towards life. They have suffered through bombings, tsunamis, earthquakes and now, like the rest of us, are trying to ride the wave of survival through Covid-19 pandemic.

There is no longer tourism. So many are without work or financial assistance. The impact on their economy is heartbreaking.

People are struggling to feed their families, and god forbid if any fall sick - not just corona virus, but malaria and dengue fever where numbers are already high in the north.

What will become of beautiful Bail?

I pray this pandemic is contained and slowed as quickly as it has swept through our globe, so every country, every person, may once again breathe easy.

I pray Bali will survive and become stronger, busier and healthier than ever before, so I may fly over to give my endearing family and friends relieved, heartfelt hugs as soon as possible.

Please Bali, stay strong. 🙏❤️