SE Asian Adventure Part Deux: Episode 5 Balinesian Fire Ants

Jul 25, 2015 08:38

"If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill

The Nusa islands are three tropical paradise islands off the coast of Bali, another tropical paradise island in the Indonesian archipelago. We nearly missed our ferry due to a seaside lunch, cold Bintang beer and a misunderstanding about when the boat was actually set to depart. The travel Bali book I "borrowed" from the hostel in Singapore it was a rough ride with few life jackets and rough waves. They were correct.

The bumpy travel conditions continued on the dirt roads of Nusa Lembongan, the middle sized and most developed of the three islands. After settling into our accommodations we decided to explore and take in the sunset. Google, who I typically consider a terrifying big brother who can pin point my location at a moment's notice proved to be quite helpful as even when there's no WIfi, that little blue dot followed us around the twisty paths of Google maps.

The rout we selected included a dirt path lined with palm trees. Two men were cutting down fronds up ahead. I was leading and suddenly Steph stopped and started shouting. I stopped and she said, I'm getting bit! Until I stopped I hadn't felt anything. Now there were tiny pricks and burns accumulating all over my feet. We had crossed paths with a colony of fire ants. Ahh! I started yelling and jumping and trying to smack the beasts off my feet and legs. What should we do? Steph asked as I realized we were equidistant from the main dirt path that this small path connected. Well, we have to go this way. I mused. There might be another path, Steph pondered. Meanwhile we we continued to stand in the middle of the ants, getting bit. Well, what do you want to do, she asked, Keep going or go back?

The men cutting palm fronds had stopped and were now laughing at us standing there wallowing in our itchy, burning legs. One, made a sweeping gesture to continue toward him to the safety of the path on the other side. We ran. We shook out our clothing. We emptied our sanders from safety. We felt phantom legs and phantom bites as we walked to a group of tide pools aptly named devil's tears considering the hell we went through to get there.

We spent the next two days avoiding the ants and taking the long way to the beach. Finally, on our last day on the island, running late for a yoga class at a place called Yoga Shack, with no clear address and two very different locations depending on if one consulted Apple maps or google maps, we were faced with a decision.

The previous night we parked our motor bike by Dream beach. As it was dark and we had been drinking at dinner, and the roads were more like rock filled pot holes back to back to back, we ditched the bike and walked home.

Now, pressed for time and still fearful of The Ants. We could either run through the small dirt path and right to our bike, or go around and risk being "those people" who come ten minutes into class right when everyone one else is settled and breathing deeply.

We ran. Either we were like lightening or the ants were sleeping late because we escaped unscathed.
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