The Groupie...

A week ago I had the pleasure of attending another memorable Next Question gig at my youth haunt, The Palace Hotel in Camberwell. I've become a bit of a regular, having previously seen the band twice annually.

I'm always filled with excited anticipation during my two hour drive up from South Gippsland. Not only is it a welcomed break from my daily farm life, but I very much look forward to catching up with Next Question's band members, three of whom I know from high school. I can still so clearly see them in my mind back in those days, as if it were yesterday, and I have such fond memories of them all.

The band of 6 talented musicians wooed the popular, crowded pub last Saturday night with quirky, 80's songs. The sound was fantastic and the introductions to each tune were witty and humorous.
Feeling the enjoyment and enthusiasm emanating from the stage, while the boys shone, brought the experience to a whole new level. The uplifting energy was amazing!

However, if that wasn't enough to warm my heart, each time I have reunited with these gorgeous guys, a few more school friends I hadn't seen in 35 years or so have happily surprised me by also attending the gigs. Talk about an incredible blast from the past ... and last week was no exception.

A group of former students from various years turned up, but I was especially blown away by two, gorgeous girls (and their lovely partners), I hadn't seen for many years. Both had hardly changed at all in appearences and still as fun and delightful as I remember them. It was such a joy to reconnect and together we were entertained by our mutual long time friends, while we reminisced and shared life stories.

It's just so heartwarming to meet up with all of these wonderful people, whom I remember vividly throughout my unsure, insecure and often confusing teenage years. We've all experienced our fair share of life's challenges and have conquered these as best we could, and I am so pleased to hear how successful each one has become. Our teachers would be proud!

However, I sensed the most significant achievement of all is the next generation; the young adults now at the tender age when we all knew each other. Some are even following their parents' footsteps music and career wise.

I love seeing the pride on my old friends' faces as they speak of or introduce me to their off spring. It's a little surreal, as I see so much familiarity in their young expressions, and immediately it takes me back to the school yard, which now seems like a lifetime ago.

In my eyes we haven't changed much at all. Maybe we wear more laugh lines around the edges and the odd greys are moving in (perhaps a little baldness), but the boys are still as handsome as I remember and the girls still as uniquely lovely. Personalities too are the same.

Yes, a real blast from the past and I look forward to another Next Question gig in the hope to be once again pleasantly surprised by yet more fellow students wanting to reconnect - even if I end up turning into a groupie!

A Lifelong Dream Fulfilled...

In my previous three postings I shared how 'beautiful Bali' showered me with unforgettable memories during my two week Indonesian holiday. Not only was I overflowing with warmth emotionally, physically I was feeling revived and energetic, basking in and savouring each moment.

Stumbling across a spontaneous opportunity, I even ticked off a 'bucket list' wish I had been longing for as far back as I can remember!

Early one morning, while my friends were still asleep, I was enjoying my morning coffee on our verandah during sunrise and heard the distinct neighing of a horse coming from somewhere close by. I eagerly investigated, as I adore horses and was yet to meet a Balinese one. To my delight, I discovered a man with a young girl exercising a stunning, brown horse in a long laneway adjacent to the hotel my friends and I were staying in. I approached them asking if I may pat the gorgeous, native animal and to this the young girl, who spoke brilliant English, proudly announced he was her very own.

There were many other horses of various colors within an arena and stables happily feeding on their breakfast. My enthusiasm must have been obvious, as it was explained to me these horse stables offer the public daily rides on the beach, including during sunsets. Since I was a little girl I had always wanted to gallop bareback and barefoot along the water's edge with a warm wind blowing in my hair and the water splashing up cooling off both the horse and I during the setting of the sun. I was ecstatic! Mind you, that's not quite how it was going to play out! Yes, I'd nurtured a couple of precious retired horses in the past back home in Australia, however I'd never actually learned to ride. Regardless, I was determined to fulfil my wish. It just needed a little modifying …

I ventured back to the hotel with a spring in my step and asked my two German girlfriends if they would care to join me. Conny exclaimed she had two years of riding lessons under her belt – but from forty years ago. Still that was more experience than Susi or I had. They decided the opportunity was too good to pass up, so I returned to the stables that afternoon and booked for three with a lovely man, who I thought may have been the owner. He told me when we arrive the following afternoon, we would all be led into the enclosed arena on horseback to see which standard of riding we were at. That sounded fair and I excitedly shared this with my friends back in our room.

At 4.30 pm the next day, with eager anticipation and wearing uncomfortably warm jeans in the heat, we made our way to the Balinese stables. The circular compound was impressive, with individual, stone stables lining the circumference of the property, while a spacious, earthy-toned, outdoor, entertainment area filled the centre. The horses there were beautiful. They must have been so hot in the heat, but were in lean, good condition. It turned out we were a surprise to the three workers on duty, who were pottering about! Quickly, as one asked us to take a seat on the wooden, outdoor furniture setting, all three sprung into action saddling adorable horses they hand-picked for us. It seemed we were the only customers and the man I had initially booked with was nowhere to be seen. Of course, me being 180cm tall, I was nervously given a big horse, which I very clumsily and literally climbed onto! My friends quickly mounted too (more elegantly than I), and off we went, each with our own, friendly, barefoot, Balinese cowboy walking beside us, holding onto our horse as we held the reins. There was no arena trial involved in the preparation and in hindsight, no helmets either! It was straight out onto the laneway.

I felt a little uneasy, but so very excited to be heading down the cobble-stone pathway toward the beach, not believing I was finally fulfilling a lifelong dream. We walked in single file, while my horse trailed a tad behind. My cowboy called himself 'Dusty', after Slim Dusty, the Australian country singer. He spoke very little English, but his smile spoke a beautiful universal language. He seemed a sweet, carefree fellow in his late thirties, with long hair tied back in a pony tail. Dusty told me my horse's name was 'Miela', after I posed the question. She was a beautiful, dark brown color with, I sensed, a bit of frustration in her nature. I could understand, as I wondered how many hundreds of times she had walked this same track, day in, day out.

We all comfortably plodded along at a walking pace, talking to our cowboys as best we could and looking around at the scenery of private, picturesque Balinese homes with their tropical gardens, so different to what we were used to. The inviting beach was suddenly in sight and Dusty, Miela and I were still a little way behind my friends, who seemed to stay together quite well. I suddenly heard a surprised squeal sounding from Susi! Before I even had a chance to wonder what that was about, I instantly couldn't believe what I was looking at up ahead! The end of the laneway had huge, wide and high, concrete steps, which I'm sure looked even more frightening mounted on the top of Miela. Those steps lead onto the beach road, busy with scooters and walkers (no car traffic thankfully), and to top it off, there were another set of similar stairs to conquer leading from the road down onto the sand. I just remember thinking how on earth was I going to remain seated on Miela during the two, daunting descends, and in between, not collide with any hurrying, passing scooters? Worse still, what if Miela trips and hurts herself? These thoughts of panic were at the forefront of my mind, as the scene quickly unfolded and before I knew it, we were suddenly all walking on the beach heading towards the water. I felt immediate relief, as the after effect of my adrenalin rush began to diminish. That was quite an extraordinary experience and I wondered how tourist children react to this challenge, as there was no warning given; obviously not significant enough for our Balinese cowboys to worry about.

The foreshore was busy, as it always seemed to be at sunset. Many day beach lovers hadn't packed up yet wanting to view the sunset, while joggers and beach strollers appeared to enjoy and utilise the last hour of daylight. We reached the water and turned left towards the life saving flags in the distance. We seemed to be the beach entertainment, as I felt all eyes were upon us, but that didn't worry me. I was still reeling in overwhelming disbelief, completely, happily engrossed in the moment. It was magical and I patted beautiful Miela often, thanking her for the opportunity. She would throw her head around sometimes and Dusty would respond by speaking to her in his mother tongue, pulling her into line. I asked Dusty regularly 'Is Miela happy?' 'Yes, yes, Miela happy,' he would answer, turning to look at me with his big smile. I hoped she was …

The sun was setting, the temperature was comfortably warm with a gentle breeze brushing my face as soft waves rolled in around Miela's legs. Young children were squealing with delight, attempting to run up to the horses, while parents would come hurrying behind to catch them before they were too dangerously close. It was such a pleasure to see the children's elated facial expressions, as I felt just the same as they did. One proud grandfather ran up to us for a chat, cradling his toddler granddaughter in his arms. He explained, as we passed them, she suddenly became animated as she spotted the horses, and he wanted to show her the animals up close. Her reaction was priceless. It felt good to know, not only was I basking in a lifelong dream, but many of all ages were sharing the joy.

We reached the life saving flags and soon after, our cowboys suddenly conversed with each other in an urgent tone. I thought I heard the word 'police' spoken! Sure enough, we were turning around to retrace our steps. Police were present somewhere in the vicinity and it appeared the horses weren't allowed anywhere near the flags, but all was well. We started heading back, not meeting any police at all. We were now looking directly into the sunset and the colorful sky was beginning to darken. Curious, frenzied stray dogs came running up behind us, which made me a little nervous, as I didn't want them to scare Miela or be kicked by her hooves. People were still bathing in the surf, and walking on the beach; still lots of activity happening. While continuing on along the water's edge, far enough away from the flags, we stopped for a photo session and had some fun with our mobile phone cameras, kindly instigated by the cowboy who spoke the most English. Then suddenly again, our guides spoke nervously amongst themselves and we continued on our way, this time picking up our pace to a fast walk. A few kites had become airborne, which was a usual late afternoon occurrence, however apparently they frightened the horses and we needed to move away before our ponies spotted them. That thought raised our individual blood pressures again just a little! 

We eventually reached the point where we needed to turn right to walk up the beach towards the laneway entrance. It seemed the more we moved up the sandy beach, the busier it became. I was still last in line, as I had been the whole adventure, and by the time Miela and I reached the daunting concrete stairs, there was a crowd of people on either side of us, already appreciating the evening acoustic beach music. This unnerved me a bit, as it did Miela, and she anxiously skipped around a little from side to side. I was concerned for her, and also worried for the tourists being so close! However, Dusty wasn't phased, hung on tightly to Miela's rope and proceeded up those steps as he'd done many, many times in the past. Before I knew it, we had returned to the laneway with my friends just up ahead, walking in the direction of the stables … and soon we arrived at the arena where a few horses were so excited to see their friends back, they ran around madly in circles on the sandy ground, while snorting and carrying on, coming to a sudden halt at the fence often to greet them.

We continued on into the compound and dismounted. Planting my feet on the ground, I couldn't believe my legs were already feeling like jelly after just over an hour of sitting on Miela. Dusty beamed when I shook his hand in gratitude and I thanked beautiful Miela one last time for helping me fulfil my dream as she was lead away. We were offered a cold drink of water, then promptly returned to our room to peel off our sweaty jeans. Sitting on our verandah, each sipping on a gin & tonic, we eagerly reminisced about our unique adventure, sharing, comparing and laughing at our personal perceptions of what had taken place. I found the experience of horse riding during sunset to be just as amazing as I had always imagined (even the Balinese version), and although it took me many years to finally realise my dream, it was well worth the wait, especially in such an exotic, beautiful location as Bali.

Memorable Bali Attractions…

During our two week Bali escape, my German friends and I didn't choose to venture too far from the stunning Seminyak surf beach, however we did tear ourselves away a few times, having felt we really ought to make an effort to see a little more of this intriguing island … and we were glad we did.

My new friend, Putu, arranged a lovely friend/driver, who picked us up early one beautiful morning. Ketut (the second lovely Ketut we had the pleasure of meeting), was friendly and fun, and although verbal communication between us was challenging, our creative arm and leg gestures, plus facial expressions, spoke volumes, causing an abundance of laughter. While we were on the road, Ketut tried to teach us words he thought we were conveying to him in English, although I'm not sure that was always the case! We visited many interesting venues, while he patiently waited outside for our return to the car parks. The weather proved, yet again, to be sunny and warm, and our introductory, inland stop was a Batik outlet, where we purchased our first item for the day. We were shown the Batik Art process from start to end, and the assorted finished products, from clothing to curtains, bags to pictures, were all extremely detailed, bright, colorful and impressive, demonstrated by some very talented and naturally gifted Balinese.

We visited the Seribatu Village Coffee Plantation where we not only tasted the famous Luwak coffee, but also met the luwaks themselves, which to me looked similar to Australian possums. I'm not sure how pleased they were to meet us though, as they're nocturnal animals! The plantation was set amongst beautiful, picturesque, lush surroundings, offering a healthy, peaceful ambience. I admired the young, Balinese girl, who passionately and informatively gave us a spiel about Luwak Coffee and its origin soon after we entered the grounds. I'm quite sure she and her young colleagues treat each group, which sets foot onto the estate, to the exact same, repetitive speech. It was an interesting experience, and the Luwak coffee was quite tasty too.

Moving on, we arrived in Ubud, known as Bali's cultural heart, situated in the mountains where the temperature was a little cooler, yet still comfortably warm. I remember the word 'Ubud' was another reason for laughter between Ketut and us. My friend, Susi, would purposefully accentuate the first 'U' and it sounded ridiculous, especially to Ketut's ears. Laughing, he would correct her each time, not realising she was joking. It was hilarious to watch!

The inland town of Ubud, was mysteriously, exactly how I had imagined. A beautiful, country strip of road lined with quaint, little cafes and various shops, marketing hand crafts, jewellery, leather, assorted clothing and much more. The terrace cafes on one side of the road provided spectacular views onto the large, descending rice fields, which offered many and varied walkways up, down and around the plantation. It was truly beautiful, green and vibrant, and an extraordinary sight to see. Two of us ventured down the, sometimes quite challenging, pathways, taking many photos of the declining rice paddocks and wetlands. Every now and again we would be surprised by older, half naked, native women, aggressively begging for money. That wasn't very pleasant and we sadly wondered whether these women resided amongst the rice fields, as we had come across what we perceived to be a homeless person's squat. We also encountered numerous primary school aged children, with pained looks on their faces, who ran to us selling packets of beautiful post cards of the area, pleading, 'For my school, for my school!' Whether it was true or not, as they all seemed so rehearsed, I had to buy a set.

From Ubud we headed towards Tampak Siring to explore the Tirta Empul Temple, which is a very religious site for Hindu worshippers, who bathe there in the purifying Holy Springs. It was very busy with tourists from all over the world and many tourist buses were parked in the car park amongst the cars. To enter the temple grounds we were given a serong to wear, which we were asked to return upon leaving. Mine was beautiful and such a pleasure to be wrapped in. Although tourists are allowed to bathe in the Holy Springs, we declined, as it was just too crowded for our liking. We did however, stroll through the grounds and admired the temple and surrounds. It was amazing and I giggled to myself as I happened to spot the tail of a small, ginger cat curled up high in one of the statue's arms, sleeping peacefully and minding its own business! As we left to find Ketut in the car park, a Balinese woman approached selling small bananas. We hadn't eaten since breakfast, so I bought a bunch to share, paying the woman enough to happily surprise her. Those bananas were the sweetest, most delicious I'd ever eaten.

During our travels and in between the popular tourist attractions, Ketut also showed us a silver wholesale plant, lined with various, gorgeous silver jewellery from floor to ceiling. Gifted Balinese artists, with controlled, elegant hands, patiently crafted the articulate pieces on the premises. Needless to say, we purchased a few lovely presents to take home.

Susi sought a traditional Balinese painting she planned to have framed back home, to hang over her bed. Ketut knew just the place to take her, which I felt was an art studio/gallery owned by his friends. These lovely people welcomed us with open arms and while Susi was busy studying the artwork, I conversed with Ketut and the hospitable family, as best I could, to learn more about their lifestyle. Unfortunately, as Susi was searching for a particular art piece, this visit was purely social and to admire the intricate work. Obviously the artists were keen to sell, and most likely disappointed, yet they were still so obliging, even opening our car doors for us as we departed. Days later, Susi did however, stumble across just the painting she wanted while browsing through a large, lively market. We all excitedly found an unforeseen treasure there.

Another day we decided to head to Kuta on the hotel transit taxi bus, which dropped us off at a certain corner to be picked up there again four hours later. We weren't too enthusiastic about Kuta, from what I had heard or read, however I really wanted to pay my respects to the 202 people killed and 209 injured during the deadliest terror attack in the history of Bali in October, 2002. We approached the striking, simple, yet elegant, monument, made of carved stone and carrying a huge marble plaque with names and nationalities of those killed, and read most were Australians. I was overwhelmingly sad standing in front of this huge memorial, and couldn't begin to imagine what chaos these people must have experienced that night. We placed some money into the donation box to assist with the maintenance and, in the stifling heat, walked the streets of Kuta for a couple of hours, solemnly and without direction until it was time to meet our return transport.

On another particular day we visited a Hindu Temple named Tanah Lot, meaning Land in the Sea. Now, that was a magical sight and although we were urged to view it during sunset, we decided to visit first thing in the morning. Ketut (number one), picked us up at sunrise, sporting a modern, new haircut, in fact I didn't recognise him at first! He bashfully disclosed his teenage son was his inspiration after I complimented him, saying he looked ten years younger.

Tanah Lot was truly magnificent. The temple itself is a rock formation situated just off the mainland. We were able to walk through the water to reach it, however access is no longer allowed up the stone stairs. It is believed a large population of poisonous sea snakes guard the area from evil spirits … and sure enough, after gifting the gods with a small money offering, we came eye to eye with a beautiful sea creature. The young man in the beach cave, playing with the snake in his hands, assured us there is no poison and ushered us to touch it. So I did, and initially all I could think was of our dangerous snakes at home and how I always try my best to protect my animals from their grip. I couldn't believe how close I was to this particular snake, and how interesting it was with its spiralling stripes. My goodness, I stroked it! After I let go of my usual anxious thoughts, it proved to be quite a calming experience. We were told by the young man some days there are five snakes to be found and some days only one. Each day is apparently a surprise.

The attractions I've shared have all been memorable experiences, however the most significant, unique and beautiful sight I witnessed during my Bali explorations, which has truly left a lasting impression, was the implementation of the Hindu ritual we saw everywhere we went, especially largely around the temple sites. Three inch by three inch containers of woven and plaited palm leaves carried gorgeous, bright flowers and greenery to match with little bits of cuisine and lit incense placed outside each active establishment daily during sunrise and sunset; often just on the footpaths and we had to watch our step! These were offerings meant to appease and please the various gods and demons. The bigger the building, the larger the offerings. It was just magical, creating so much color and warmth throughout the already heart-warming and endearing environment. Such a precious, meaningful custom. However, it seemed the Hindu Balinese and their gods weren't the only ones to benefit from these special religious contributions.

I remember lying by the hotel swimming pool one day watching an elegant, Balinese lady approach a giant tree, which stood not far from where I lay toward the end of the hotel grounds, near the entrance to the beach. This tree carried a man-made, permanent spiritual monument in its centre, purposefully built for these gifts. The woman carefully and individually picked each object from a lovely, round, cane basket, and placed it systematically onto the statue, while praying to herself. Once completed, she left to return to work. A few moments later, as I was admiring the offerings and the ancient tree, I noticed sudden movements flickering from branch to branch very quickly. It took me a few minutes to realise there were two, cheeky, little, squirrel-like animals scurrying towards the gits, balancing and jumping with the greatest of ease until they reached the monument, then sat to have a free feed, while oblivious to the noise around them! I asked a bell boy on duty what these little creatures were and I was told they are 'Tupaia', meaning small animals that resemble squirrels. They were just adorable and are mammals native to the tropical forests of South-east Asia. I'm sure they love and appreciate the daily Hindu ritual of offerings too!

So this sums up our Bali day trips, adding to our memories. During the drives to and from our desired destinations, we also saw a lot of the beautiful countryside, yet sadly also noticeably the poorer parts … but there is still so much more to see, which I look forward to visiting in the future … and there is still more to share of my magical Bali holiday, which I look forward to posting soon.

More Of The Magic Of Bali...

During my stay in the picturesque, Balinese accommodation, I encountered the delightful staff to be humble, gentle, approachable and ever so friendly; always wearing a sincere smile that lit up the surroundings. They couldn't do enough to make sure my friends and I were comfortable and had everything we needed, especially one young man, who went above and beyond his duties to assist us.

Putu was my first point of call as I arrived at the hotel, and kindly showed me to the tropical haven I was to stay in. His honest, altruistic nature was inspiring and I immensely enjoyed his company. Speaking very good English, he explained how he and many staff, employed within the Bali tourist precincts, reside in nearby boarding houses in small rooms. During days off (sometimes only one a week), they return to their individual, inland villages, which can take a few hours to reach by scooter, to visit their families, while bringing home most of their earnings. Putu plans to one day visit Australia, which is quite a detailed process to battle through, however I'm sure he will fulfil his goal. He excitedly shared, with photo in hand, of his plans to marry his beautiful girlfriend next year. I'm very happy for them both, wish them all the best and am looking forward to meeting up with Putu again during another, future trip to his welcoming island.

Although the population of Indonesia is predominantly Muslim and Christian, I read 83% of the people on Bali identify as Hindu. The Balinese strongly believe in karma inspiring them to always give their best. Many worked extremely hard from first light until after dark, sometimes seven days a week, however there was no rushing to be seen. There was no aggression, no raised voices, no stress. These calm people go about their productive day in their stride, always polite, happy and content because that is what they choose for themselves.

I googled some common Indonesian words and phrases before I left Australia, preparing myself not only for my own benefit, but to respectfully greet the Balinese. I wanted to show them I was willing to make an effort while residing on their unique isle. It was so much fun to say 'good morning' or 'thank you' or 'how are you?,' although I would sometimes become confused! However, the native people appreciated my greetings, always breaking out into a warm smile or laugh, while correcting my words or teaching me more. I miss that, and I adored the sound of the Indonesian language. Even some stall holders along the shopping strip of Seminyak, who were a little forward in attempting to entice me into their shops, would let out surprised giggles when I clumsily declined in their mother tongue. This often lead to a friendly conversation and I would continually greet them by name whenever I walked up the street. Even if they were busy with customers, they would turn, smile and joyfully wave, while calling out 'hello.'

There were many I had the pleasure of conversing with such as, a young, passionate bell boy, who dreams of working on a cruise ship once his apprenticeship is completed, or the lovely, petite, twenty-eight year old masseuse, with small, yet powerful hands, who yearns to marry and bear children, not yet having met the right man. There was Yuni, an attractive, diligent, single mum to a little, three year old girl. Yuni works in hospitality six days a week from late afternoon until three in the morning to support her family, grateful her loving parents are able to care for her daughter during those hours. She purposefully works the evening shift so she can be home to care for her child during most of the daytime, even though she is often exhausted. There was also a cheeky hotel gardener, who always seemed so pleased to see me after I initially stumbled over my words, attempting to wish him a happy day in Indonesian. From then on he laughed each time he saw me and again, his emanating smile spoke volumes.

I was familiar with the bartering concept of Bali, although I wasn't any good at it! These hard working people needed to make a living too, and if I could spare a couple of dollars, then why not help them to celebrate a successful day and grant them another reason to smile? The few items I bought were still cheaper than at home in Australia. Same with tipping. I was told the Balinese were extremely appreciative if they should receive a tip for their services, no matter how much or how little, however if this wasn't the case, that was fine too. They did not expect it. So I tipped here, there and everywhere! Not only was I enjoying a spectacular holiday, I was constantly sharing the love.

One of the most joyful and interesting hours I will treasure was during my second last day of my stay. My friends had departed Bali the previous morning to return home to Germany. I was fortunate to savour a couple more days to collect my thoughts and to digest this wonderful experience, which was sadly, fast approaching an end.

The girls and I would walk on the beach and bathe in the glorious surf each day, however we never hired a beach bed, always basing ourselves by the hotel pool. Imagining lying on a beach bed at the beach was way out of my comfort zone, as having grown up in Australia, I'd only ever laid on a towel on the sand. However, it was something I hadn't experienced, so I decided to try it. I didn't bother bartering over the price and while laughing at myself, proceeded to try and get comfortable on the thick, green mattress. I was quietly hoping no one was watching as I stood, awkwardly rearranging the head piece tilt and having to lie down to test it numerous times, while my already positioned, hotel beach towel kept blowing off centre with the gentle breeze. This did not feel right at all, however I persevered and was finally, 'reasonably' comfortable.

Soon after, while lying on my stomach I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a Balinese woman approaching. I'd forgotten about the beach sellers! She seemed so overly dressed for the heat and she carried what seemed like a million, assorted leather wrist bands and beaded necklaces. She promptly came over, sat beside me on the sand and plopped her goods onto the beach bed near my head, urging me to pick a few; 'Morning price, good price,' she insisted. I sat up to look at her craft and she suddenly started singing a made-up tune. After a few bars, she told me she loved to sing, as it made her happy. Her olive skinned face wore many interesting lines and she had the most beautiful, straight, white teeth. I was curious to know more about this middle aged, intriguing woman. Her broken English, no doubt learnt over many years on Bali's beaches, was easy to decipher.

She shared with me she lives in Denpasar and each morning she rides her bicycle one hour to reach the popular beaches of Seminyak, Legian or Kuta, where she strolls along all day selling her wholesale-bought trinkets to help earn her family's livelihood (then she started singing again). She continued after a short tune to say, depending on how busy her day eventuates, she will ride her bike home, sometimes at five, six, seven or even eight o'clock in the evening, to then cook dinner and wash for her family. I asked her, 'Why are you so covered up in this heat? You must be uncomfortably warm?,' and with that, she touched my hand and said, 'I like this skin.' I chuckled and smiled as I answered, 'And I like this skin,' returning the gesture. After another little, creative tune, she suddenly pulled a creased photo from her worn, coat pocket, and with a beaming smile explained the picture is of her son, daughter-in-law and her new, two month, precious grandson. It was such a joy to see the glowing pride on her face. I was so mesmerised by this endearing woman, I asked if I may take a photo of her. To this she suddenly struck a pose, waiting for my camera. Then up she stood, grabbed her bundle of merchandise, once again broke out into song, waved goodbye and went on her way.

I did buy a leather bracelet from this lady, whom I sadly cannot remember the name of, as it was so foreign to my ears. She returned regularly that day, sometimes with colleagues, to happily have a rest and a chat. At one stage she lay down next to my beach bed, placed her old, tattered, material bag (I wished I'd had a new one with me to gift her), onto the sand and used it as a pillow. Much to my surprise, there she lay with her eyes closed. I honestly believed she would fall sleep, however after a short while she was on the move once more, of course happily singing as she left!

This was the last time I saw her, as by late afternoon I'd decided to call it a day on the beach. I'd had a good go bonding with my beach bed to know I still preferred the familiar, old beach towel cushioned on top of the sand. Besides, the stunning sunset was about to commence and I needed to proceed to my usual prime position, up on the cafe roof top, I had become accustomed too. I quickly looked around for my new friend, as I wanted to say goodbye one last time, however sadly she was nowhere to be seen. I still continue to wear my leather, wrist band at home to fondly remember her and my adventures in Bali. I will surely meet her next trip, as I hear her distinctive voice calling, 'Morning price, good price!'

I look forward to sharing more of my unforgettable Bali memories...