Last day. Damn, I don’ wanna go home.
I suddenly got a bee in my bonnet to buy a small Swiss Army style pocket knife. I had mine confiscated last trip because I forgot it was in my hand luggage.
But I tried Hardy’s and other shops along the street with no luck, not even recognition of what I was talking about. I even took a taxi to Lotte Mart, again with no luck. They don’t seem to have the range of electronics and small stuff that I remember from five years ago.
I got another taxi and asked him to take me to the Galeria, but realised I don’t have time and told him to turn around. I thought, “I know, I’ll buy one at the airport.” But no, my bags are checked by then, and I can’t take a knife on board. Too bad, another time.
The taxi driver was from Lombok. Lots of horse transport over there, he says. Four hours on the ferry from Padang Bai. Fare, about Rp.45,000 or $4.50. Might try it one day.
I learnt from him that knife is pisau, and the Balinese way of saying baik baik, (good good) is bece bece.
He said his taxi is owned by an Australian woman who lives in Kuta (I feel sorry for her) and is a model. She goes to Seminyak most days for photo shoots. Good boss, he says. Cantik sekali!
Of course, he says Bali guys all think Aussie girls are cantik, seksi! Hot! Whereas I think the same about Bali girls (women, actually). We all want what’s over the fence.
I’ve asked if I can stay in the room a bit later and they’ve extended me to 1pm checkout. Airport transport? No sir, taxi is cheaper. Not good.
11:30am Better start packing. Damn. Don’t want to do this.