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In my usual procrastinating manner, I fluffed around leaving packing to the last minute. I took my 2 fur babies up to the pet sitters, then I received a photo of them making themselves at home on her couch. No worries there. In between the last few episodes of Masterchef, I ironed a couple of things, folded a few things, bagged a few things, sat down for a while, you know how it goes. I noticed the 'just-in-case' things might need their own case! I'm a walking pharmacy! I'm not taking as many clothes this year. I do t wear everything I take. Next thing I know, it's midnight & I've achieved little. I'm off to bed for a few hours sleep.
OMG! I've only had 3 hours sleep, eyeballs hanging out & I've just seen myself in the mirror. One of our GPs is going to start doing Botox & Fillers, so my hand went up to be a 'test subject' (aka guinea pig) for a free treatment. I have super-sensitive skin and highly alert nerve endings. That is my excuse, and I stand by it. Ok, maybe I'm a bit of a sookie-la-la. It stung! I now have 6 very precise small bruises, 2 rows of 3 at a 45 deg angle at the edge of my crows feet. Today is not a contact lens day. Today is a put on my foundation with a trowel & wear my thick-armed glasses kinda day. Holy heck, I should have left 1/2 an hour ago! A vanity delay.
There are roadworks on the freeway. Noooooooo! I finally get to the airport parking place & they hold a bus for me while I pay. Get dropped off in front of the airport hotel, conveniently opposite the international terminal. Except some mean-spirited civil servant has erected fencing across the length of the road island, so people have to walk to either domestic terminal to cross and then double back. Marvellous! Not at all inconvenient! I'm in the arrivals area now and using my wheelie suitcase & cabin bags as walking sticks as I pant my way to the escalator (step-less) & then try to prevent luggage bowling ball on the people (potential skittles) behind me. Once off I stop to put my coat in my suitcase, as its 6 deg outside & will be 30ish in Bali.
Check-in desk D. I'm in the internet queue. A queue of one. Me. Now that IS marvellous! The quickest airline check-in EVER! So through the customs door I go. What are all those people doing along the back wall? Oh, they're filling in their departure cards for customs. Shit - spots blank departure card in hand with luggage ticket! I begin my creative writing experience leaning on a wall too. What a rookie mistake.
Through the cattle corrals, where myself & 2 others are herded offside. No, not to a shorter queue. For a bomb residue test. Really. A wand thingy is waved about my now open cabin bag, handbag & person. No beeps, confirming I'm a tourist not a terrorist. I'm directed to an out of sight X-ray machine & metal detector, along with several other victims. After a successful pass, I'm queuing again in another cattle corral for the auto passport scanning. Cattle corral is a good description. Little gateways cut you off into a compartment & the place smells like farts on the plane home from Bali. The man in the queue behind me has a fruity cough. Maybe it's him farting? I've never used a passport scanner in customs before. Read the instructions, put in my passport which gets sucked up into the machine, remove my glasses for a photo & my passport pops out. But it didn't work, I'm told. An immigration officer points me to a side queue 10 people deep for manual processing. Whilst standing there for 10 minutes, I decided that my scanning was unsuccessful because my 9 year old passport photo is just too different from how I look now. When it came to my turn, the seated official flicked his eyes my way for less than a nanosecond, the same on my passport & goes yep that's her. Stamp. Next!
I was crushed! My passport photo is truly hideous!
I make my way to the TRS counter & stand in the internet queue. A queue of one again, but I have to wait whilst a cross official tells off a customer for not bringing in their receipt. Receipt? Gulp! I'm pretty sure I printed it.......and pretty sure I left it at home. Oh well, if I can't claim the $66 GST on my iPad then so be it. My turn. I look up the receipt in my email & show her then show her my claim code scan. She grunts but accepts it. Winning!
A short wait at the departure gate & then the flight is called for boarding. Garuda business class looks awesome! Envious. Alas, I'm economy. I have a window seat 1/2 way down, over the wing. Excellent. The seat configuration is 2/4/2. On my seat is a blanket, pillow, small bottle of water & a pouch with a pair of socks & an eye mask. The first thing I notice as I sit down is the leg room. There is at least 6-8 inches between my knees & the seat in front. Impressive. There is a monitor at eye level in the back of the seat & a hand-held control lodged underneath. I pull it out for inspection. It's attached to a cord. I can't get the cord back in. It takes me until take off to manoeuvre that little sucker back. I don't need it - it's a touch screen. I find some headphones & flick through the movies on offer. Jungle Book. I can't get the volume to turn up high enough, so 10 mins in I give up & watch a tv program on my iPad.
Even as the passenger in front lowers her seat back, my tray is not digging into my guts or balanced on my knees like other airlines. My flight is very comfortable, thanks.
And no bus from the plane to the terminal! No sirree! Winning. However it did seem like we arrived at gate 50,906 with the amount of walking to customs. My cabin bag walking stick is coming in handy. I'm stuffed! And puffed. And hot.
There was a long queue for customs, no surprise there. Another long wait for my suitcase. Getting hotter waiting. Where is it? C'mon!
Out in the Meeting Point I scan the crowd for my name. Not there. I walked the row another 3 times. Where's my transport? I buy a SIM card, cash some money to pay for it & ring the hotel. Yes they have my booking. No, I didn't book transport? I thought I had. Apparently not. So I get a taxi to my hotel. That at least was easy to do.
I give my taxi driver directions once we are on the main road through Sanur. I check-in quickly & escorted to my room. Oh no - stairs! Steep stairs! Steep enough that I need to land both feet before going up to the next. (Getting old sucks). What fun!
My room is enormous! It has a separate hallway with a lounge room that opens onto a balcony, a kitchenette with a big fridge & microwave, a bedroom which opens onto another adjacent balcony, a bathroom & another hallway leading to a huge semi-outdoor rainhead shower. Wow! It's fairly quiet in the treetops. I can hear chirping birds over the hum of the AC.
I'm knackered & try for a nanna nap on my mosquito net draped bed before unpacking. No go. I unpacked & was pleased to see that my pool noodle survived the trip. Bali is 2 hours behind so I wait another hour for the sun to go down & go to the hotel restaurant for dinner. The restaurant is conveniently close to my room. I had lumpia (spring rolls) & a chicken with basil dish (very Thai in flavour) both delicious, before retiring to my room for sleep (aka coma).