Island Life, Bali

Bali State of Mind

Time to finally update ye olde journal, this time from the land of Bali.  At the moment I am sat with a towel around my face in my friend Slamet’s Villa as a cat climbed into the roof, had her kittens and died there resulting in multiple kitty deaths.  I can only describe the smell as a mixture of clown tears and disappointment.

I have escaped here during my 8-week summer holiday.  I know, even I feel that 8 weeks is a little extreme and I do worry that I will forget how to do my job… but I do have a manual for the DVD player so it won’t take too long to get back on track.

I have been to Bali so many times now that it feels like a second home and I have quite a few good friends here that I’ve met over the past 8 years.  There has been a lot of development here as a lot of time has passed since the bombings.  It’s a very easy way of life with its beaches, cafes, gyms, restaurants and nightlife.  I do literally nothing on a daily basis.  I’ve begun to hate the question ‘so what are your plans for the day?’ as it sends a lightening bolt of guilt to my brain for living like a lame version of the people on Jersey Shore.

I have another year left on my contract at the International School where I am teaching.  The children are really lovely and make the job pleasurable.  It’s still nice not to walk into a classroom and hear ‘I is gunna stab you right up Bruv…’  The children are generally a little slower than they are in the UK but I blame the heat.  Infact, Thai’s generally move slowly.  Like at the top of an escalator (which they would never walk up/down) they will just stand there for a few moments, I still don’t know why, perhaps they are pondering the wonder of a moving staircase but it creates a kind of domino effect at the top.  The shopping malls occasionally look scenes from ‘The Crazies’ or ‘Dawn of the Dead’.  Even after a year and a half I still haven’t got out of my London, time is money pace of life so we are constantly at odds. 

So in Bangkok, I’m about to move into the ‘posher part of town’.  I’ve promised myself I won’t let it change me.  Although I do fear I may take up Pilates, buy a 4×4, start speaking in abbreviations – obvs and purse my lips so tight that I will be too posh to talk but it’s totes fine.   There is even a swimming pool on the roof, well I say swimming pool but it’s more of a foot spa.   

I am of course missing the UK more than ever but all I need to do is put on my Royal Wedding DVD, cook up some sausage rolls and wave a Union Jack until my arm gives.

So, how’ve you been?

Jimbaran Beach, Bali

MISSING: CLIVE – Reward for anyone who finds him.

Trekking Sandals are Wrong!

A fine way to get around the whole Bangkok traffic congestion nightmare is via motorbike taxi. Their bright orange vests make them easy to spot, make sure they are standing next to a bike though or it might just be a traffic controller.

Usually a Motorbike Taxi guy smells like my old piano teacher’s flat.  Cat pee and Cannabis but today’s driver smelt delightful, so much so that I moved in closer to get a better smell of his cologne.  As I did we hit a speed bump causing me to lunge further forward than planned and nut the driver, giving myself mild concussion and an aching nose.

Bangkok has settled down a lot.  What used to be more exciting than an omnibus of Eastenders has become more like a Christmas Special of Last of the Summer Wine. The sweaty faced and oddly Etonian looking Prime Minister Abhisit has managed to cling on to his seat – for now. So,  except for the occasion blast to remind him that people still want ‘democracy’, things are fine.  The tourists still seem to be staying away though which just means that the sales of Crocs are down and I don’t have to look at so many of those awful ‘trekking sandals’ which are an obvious cry for help.  ’You are in the city, and if you are about to leg it to the beach, buy a pair of flip flops’… Evil and Wrong!

I’m now 8 weeks into my job as Head of Music in a quaint little school in the ‘burbs of Bangkok.  The place is lovely and the students are adorable.  As with all schools I have to wear a shirt and tie which I do kind of hate.  Thai’s are suckers for dresscodes and think that wearing a slightly better than Topman suit means you are smart and sophisticated which is the complete opposite to what I think, ‘You look like a numpty’. Anyway, all is surprisingly good and in only one more week I will be on holiday in Bali , lying on a sun kissed beach, supping a cocktail or thrive.

At the moment, the Thai’s are celebrating the ‘Festival of the 9 Emperor Gods’, meaning that most people go veggie for a few days and do extreme facial piercing. As you can see below, the man has either taken the idea a little too far or is about to appear on Casualty.

Right, I’m off for a tofu kebab, hope you are all well x x x

Stormy Weather

Tip It

A year of no (or at least very little) work is sadly about to end.  It’s been a blast but I’ve been thinking very seriously about my future and I am worried about the possible lack of funds for Botox later on in life and in the age of Gaga, it’s become increasingly important to buy more outfits than one actually wants or deserves.

I don’t know how to describe my new place of work other than a 6.45am start (annoyingly unnecessary) and it’s not even that close to my humble abode either.  In my previous schools I taught my kids that it’s stylish to be late and made the unstylish ones take the register for me, which worked well but I fear that this way of thinking won’t wash in the International School sector.

Monsoon season is upon us and most  days see a tropical storm of biblical  proportions.  It comes upon you with  no warning; suddenly the sky goes  dark and the heavens open.  Carrying  a brollie is essential and came in very  handy the other day whilst riding on  the back of a motorbike taxi.  We were  travelling at about 20mph swerving in  and out of the chaotic Bangkokian  traffic when I felt a tug on my bag.  I  looked to the side and saw a fat Thai  guy with more tattoos than a chav  from Blackpool trying to grab my bag.  At first I smiled apologetically as I was brought up to believe that all people are generally good people and thought he must be playing a game of tag but then I saw sense and grabbed my pink brollie and started poking him as hard as I could.  My poor driver must of thought the white guy on the back of his bike had gone mad as he caught glimpses of a pink brollie thrashing around in his wing mirror and could hear (but probably not understand) me screaming, ‘go faster, go faster’ at him.  Thankfully the traffic was too bad for him to continue his attempt at daylight robbery and he rode off.  He’d have only got a sweaty gym kit and a carton of sugar free soymilk anyway so my brollie and I spared him the disappointment.

Apart from my friends and family, there isn’t that many things I miss from the UK, especially now I’ve sorted out the wine situation.  Bangkok isn’t like the UK, as usually when you go to Sainsburys’ wine aisle and cast your eyes down you will always find a bottle of wine for about £3.99, it may be Bulgarian and give you the worst hangover ever but beggars…  It ain’t so simple in Bangkok, the cheapest bottle I could find was about £8.00 until I discovered the joys of boxed wine.  A box costs £18 but there’s a whole 6 bottles of joy in those futuristic bags of joy!!! And when it feels like it’s run out you can always tip it for another few glasses and then squeeze a couple more out.  Sorted!

Huge Congratulations to my old school kids Romy, Oliver and Jamie (The XX) for being nominated for the Mercury Music Prize today.

Singapore no more…

Sadly, no love for Singapore was found. My three day mini break turned into a 24hr disaster and I was back on the plane before you could say ‘Ooh, I’m starting to like it here.’

I woke up early and went to the Thai Embassy, the street my Hotel was on (Hotel 81 in Alunjied) was far nicer in the day. No hookers or drooling Japanese men tripping over themselves for a cheeky lap dance.

I handed over the documents and she skimmed through them and pushed them back through the little window, ‘you haven’t got the letter from the government’ and then she looked at the guy behind me as though she was done with me. And it was true, apparently the school didn’t send me a letter from the government which was needed in order to apply for the VISA.  

I soon realised that the woman behind the window was not interested in the specifics so I phoned the school who said, ‘We sent you all the correct documents, it’s the ones with the blue stamp at the bottom’.  I went back to the window and showed her the documents again and she shouted , ‘they’re not the correct ones’ and then there was a lot of toing and froing with the documents being shoved in and out of the small window hole until she snapped, barked and shut the hatch.  My school still reckons they have given the same documents to other people and they have had no problems and they don’t understand either.

Even though Singapore has been dubbed the Disneyland of Asia I decided that I didn’t want to stay there and wait for the documents that may not even exist, ran to the internet cafe, booked a new flight and came home to BKK and watched Doctor Who with a glass of wine.

Singapore Rules!