i've been to bali too

I am home from two weeks of stimulation and interaction in Bali. Most of my time was spent at Mick's Place in Bingin, where I acted as relief manager, dog walker and surf reporter. Yes, I know, tough gig. I had to smile and meet and greet and answer questions; and fend off surly dogs and wanderers that chose to ignore the "guest's only" sign. In between there were new cafes to review and laps of the lagoon to swim. My sister-in-law and two nieces visited for two nights, bringing me treasured family contact and news from home. Sadly, the four kilos of dates from mum and my magazine subscriptions didn't make it into their hand luggage.  Back on island time now, sheltering from the ferocious trade winds and meditating on my fourth day without caffeine. 

I am thrilled to be featured on Carla Coulson's wildly popular blog as part of her "Inspiring Lives" series. You can read the interview here. Thank you Carla for the opportunity to share a little of my life with your readers. 

lontar spa part 2

Sascha, the Lontar spa founder, with Hildi

The day spa experience isn't only for women, as these photos illustrate. After a long session in the surf, the boys are partial to a massage, especially when it can be combined with a cold beer.  The beachfront wing of the Lontar Spa is a more public affair, suitable for manicures, pedicures and seated massage. The open bamboo bale has unhindered views to the wave, the sunset and the bar; all essential elements of the island dream.

We have known Bingin Mick (seated right) for many years, and never seen an alcoholic beverage in his hand.  He was about to leave on a boys only boat trip to Sumatra for his 50th birthday, and felt sure there would be a few beers involved, so prior to this massage he announced that he better go into training. He claims it  did in fact enhance the experience.  

lontar spa part 1

A tickle of luxury has arrived on the island this season, with the opening of the Lontar Spa at the resort.  The building was designed by Tom McArchitect and the interiors styled by the spa's founder and manager Sascha; the beauty and brains behind the successful cliff-top spa at Mick's Place in Bingin (also Mick's better half and my neighbour).  I was delighted to be asked to photograph the spa, and try out the signature treatments over the course of a girl's afternoon.  The two therapists are local girls, trained by the experienced spa staff at Mick's Place. 

The main building has a curved stone entrance, spiralling inwards to a concealed door that welcomes clients into the secluded, calm interior.  The nautilus inspired design features an open air shower and vanity in the centre and classic grass roof.  On the beach, with a front row view of the wave, is a small bale for manicures, pedicures and seated massage. See the boys blissed-out smiles as they combine beer-o-clock with a treatment in the next post.  

Riding home along the beach front at sunset, after a swim, full body massage and fresh shower, I experienced one of those peak moments that etch into your memory. Thanks Sascha, and congratulations. 

the city of dreams

I'll be honest, Kupang is one of my least favourite destinations, and certainly one I aim to pass through with haste. It is the sandpaper for patience and tolerance that bookends my simple island existence. As if knowing how eager I am to get home to our beach shack and the arms of Aquaman, the universe has conspired to grant me 48 hours in the City of Dreams. 

Awoken at 4am by the ululating call to prayer (a rather inconsiderate notion in this predominantly Christian city), I snatched a few minutes sleep before the alarm at 5am.  I had news that the ferry was cancelled due to rough seas, so I took the chance of standby on the 7am flight. I wasn't alone in this mission, and by 8am, 31 names were on the list, and we had amassed quite the party in the small airline office. Ideas of chartering an oversized canoe, twin prop plane or helicopter were bandied around as we waited for news of a possible second flight (after it was established by all how unfortunate I am to not have children).  Four hours later my heart sank with the news there would be no flight, canoe or magic carpet and I returned to room 303.  The Sasando International Hotel was once a luxurious abode in this city of overpriced, worn and totally shit accommodation (and is still one of the better options). The citizens do not embrace maintenance, and the scene evokes a war weary city, with the only redeeming quality being the nightly food market.

I took the risk of death by chlorination and snot in the hotel pool, and was relieved my bather clad self did not elicit whistles, screams and photos, as happens when I walk alone through town. It was quite pleasant sunning on the broken pavers with a magazine, however I baulked from a second swim after witnessing the amount of deep throat mucus exhumed into the water.

To end on a more positive vibe, the hotel has free wi-fi, expansive ocean views and the staff kindly allow me to sit in the deserted dining room with my papaya and laptop. Should I be overcome with a need to fold in prayer (or despair?) toward Mecca, they have thoughtfully spray painted the directional arrow on the ceiling of my room. 

One more sleep and season 2012 begins. 

Are you ready?

If you are hankering for more photos of this captivating capital, have a look at this post from last year. 

heir to the throne

Greg is the manager and part owner of the resort, and he married a lovely girl from the mainland, whom he wooed over a season of ferry rides.  Anita was the hostess in the VIP section, and a splendid sight in her smart uniform checking tickets and handing out unidentified food objects.

Their little fella RJ Rogers (Rock to his fans) is seriously adorable.  He loves his pool time, is discovering his facial muscles and has the entire hotel staff and expat community wrapped around his tiny fingers.  He has a sweet life lined up as the first wave of "blended" kids in the village, with one foot in the west and one firmly running bare under the coconuts. 

How's the look on his face here?  This photo is scarily like a family portrait  I repeat, this is not my child. 

pool time

While Jen is here from Hawaii, the afternoon invariably finds me at the hotel for a cuppa, spot of lounging and a dip in the pool.  Perhaps a game of cards, Rummikub or frisbee, depending on the level of exertion desired.  Jen has a thing for a hot drink with her feet in cold water; I can work with that.