Sunday, July 25, 2010


Think of Bali and you imagine sea, surf, vast hordes of Aussie backpackers doing what they can (and can't) get away with in Kuta, tropical rainforests, Balinese traditions and culture....all this but surely not rain? Ahhhhh, the luck of the Irish eh? Got into Bali late, very late, last night. So much so that there was quite literally no room at any inn (by the twelfth knock back I had to look to make sure there wasn't a pregnant Mary and donkey with me) and so I was forced to pop around the corner to the local 24 hour McD's and enjoy their wi-fe and drink gallons of their unpleasant tea. It's morning now and I'd quite like to move and search for some accommodation but there's been an obscene emptying of the skies for the past hour and it hasn't relented in the slightest. At this stage I feel as familiar with the staff here as, say, Jack from Coronation Street might be with Bet Gilroy. A mere lift of the finger brings the umpteenth tea of the morning. It's quite the spectacle outside and nowhere is there a sign of a break in the rain. Ah, Bali; come for the surf, stay for the rain.

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