Return to Bali, Continued

My first Saturday morning in Bali was spent naked with a Balinese woman.

Never would have thought those words would have come from my mouth before two years ago.


Back up ... our first morning in the villa included breakfast awaiting us -- gorgeous platters of chilled tropical fruit (mango, watermelon, pineapple, papaya), warm croissant, crustless toast, and French press Balinese coffee.

We are running 20 minutes behind for our eagerly awaited spa appointment at Bodyworks. The ride is a tortuous experience one would only tolerate in Bali, because of the periodic glimpses of rice terraces, flora, random swaggering chickens, roosters and cows. Most of it is comprised of twists and turns on third-world roads, surrounded by the constant buzz of motorbikes. Moreover, our driver only booked us one car for eight ladies. As a result, most of us are cramped, jostled and become quite intimate with each other with each pothole. I'm luckily Dramamine-d out in the front seat.

We arrive at Bodyworks relatively unscathed. I'm excited for my first exfoliating massage -- a "mandi lulur," which Lindsay has talked me into. 

It is a relaxing, rather sensuous experience. Beyond the diaper-like disposable panties in which you are clad.

It's a two-hour treatment, beginning with a proper Balinese massage. From there, you are rubbed with an exfoliating mix of coffee and spices (which smells amazing, particularly when it's been an hour since you've breakfasted on fruit). After that, the woman guides you to stand in a cool, stone tub and rinses you with warm, flower-scented water from a running faucet and basin next to you. Almost done. Now, you are moisturized with yogurt , then rinsed again. The last step is immersion in a proper bathtub complete with floating flower petals and a cup of warm pandan-scented tea. Bliss. The whole time, the window to your private room is open so you're caressed with the warm Balinese air and sweet smells.  The attendant is comforting and skilled. In all, a luxurious experience.

This Bali visit, overall, was one of perfect balance -- luxurious relaxation, decadent food and more local adventures. Check out Facebook for the full album.

Return to Bali

We arrive in Bali. We are starving. We are ready for battle. We race off our Air Asia flight and stuff ourselves into the bus awaiting us at the bottom of the gangplank then fall off the bus into the hell that is the Denpasar immigration hall.

It is a madhouse.

It is Bali on a Friday.

But this is more tortuous than usual because, inexplicably, only half the stalls are open. We purchase our 25USD visas on arrival then migrate over to immigration queues. We settle in for a long wait. Amy blows her nose. Allison entertains. Lindsay abandons us for the business visa line (also inexplicably long).

An hour later, after we are tortured by various odors emanating from fellow travelers, sketchy looking "free water" and smug immigration officials, we are spit out into baggage claim. There is Kari, Lindsay's friend from Turkey who, on a whim has joined our merry band of travelers.

We meet our driver and collapse into the car. Fortunately traffic is light -- one positive. Our unopened, hard-won bottles of Veuve and Grey Goose taunt us the whole way. Lindsay and Kari catch up on life and friends, and I zone out to Spanish guitar. Let the vacation begin.

You know you're becoming Singaporean when ...





1. You add chili padi -- not chili sauce -- to everything, or so say my colleagues who claim I'm becoming Singaporean. I take this as a compliment. Fresh chili rocks.


2. You can sleep with your air-conditioning (or "air con," as the locals say) off, even though it only gets down to about 77 degrees F at night. I cheat a bit -- I have my standing fan blowing on me.




3. You can communicate with the nice taxi uncles without (or, almost without) issue. You know how to give direction -- major landmark or street first, then specific building or address, followed by a major cross street if necessary, unless you're going somewhere "local," in which case it may take them a few seconds to actually belive you mean to go there -- without resorting to charades or Google Maps. You will never be 100 percent foolproof, note.

Favorite coffee in Singapore so far -- 40 Hands in Tiong Bahru,
near Tiong Bahru Market
Photo: 40HandsCoffee.com

4. You start to prefer the local coffee -- kopi -- over Starbucks or similar chain stores. You enjoy frequenting the "kopitiams" and can order with confidence coffee -- "kopi" -- black -- "kopi o/oh" -- iced -- "peng" -- and, my personal choice, without sugar -- "kosong." If you also have embraced the local breakfast of kaya toast (this rich concoction of toast slathered with a gooey spread of kaya, which is coconut, egg, sugar and pandan) and soft-boiled eggs ... well, you may as well never leave. To be fair, I'm halfway there. I have forsaken Starbucks and the like generally and have gravitated toward some of the local cafes and roasters -- e.g., the exceptional 40 Hands in Tiong Bahru. Best. Latte. EVER.

5. You forego expensive grocery chains like Cold Storage and brave the local markets. A recent shopping excursion at Tiong Bahru Market for ingredients to make Thai green mango salad ran me about SGD10 -- for green mango, Thai basil, cilantro, red pepper, chil padi, limes and a few other produce items for the week. The same purchases at Cold Storage would have ran me SGD20+.