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.
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