Dubious Beginnings
Upon pulling into the gate of the airport we prepared to disembark with seeming unhurriednes, but with an underlying wariness. Elbow propped on the seat-back we waited for the signal to exit in faux relaxation with a hawk-eyed view of the flight attendant. As the engines of the plane died out at the signal from the attendant our engines roared and we were off. Weaving around geris and families with small children and babies we loped(Judy and I while Angela Edna Moded it over) toward the visa cashier counters. I pulled into what seemed to be a short line by myself, while Judy and Angela found their way into another line. Through crowd osmosis I learn that I need to pay the $25, but the passport pictures that caused some trauma at the beginning of my journey was not needed at this time.
As with every line in which I'm in a different one from anyone I know or even recognise it was a competition to get to the front. Won that meaningless competition and wended my way to find another slew of lines to get through immigration. Brief analysis of possible choices and I find myself in a decently short line. Turns out to be tortuously slow, but seeing as how Angela and Judy are still buying their visas in blissful unawareness of the massive lines that potentially await them if they don't find me VERY SOON.
Thank God for the blessings of height and the kindness of strangers. I was desperately trying to find them because if I got through first, I would likely be waiting by myself on the other side for a good hour the lines had gotten so long behind me as the gates seemed to be continually disgorging passengers. On tip-toes peering over the tops of hundreds of asian heads, I spotted Angela and calling out her name in a rather unseemly fashion, she wandered about oblivious to the ruckus I was making. The tall Chinese young lady gestured to hold my place in line while I tracked her down and there we all were waiting in line reunited. Seemed more harrowing then than it sounds in type...
After gathering our luggage (with much hand wringing from our paranoid resident, Judy) we headed out to meet our tour guide and driver.
Seems nice enough and we promtly get a perfunctory flower necklace as well as a straw (?) hat that I can't bring myself to put on, though Judy and Ang cheerfully don it. The guide explained that there wouldn't be time to take us to some special "very Balinese" shops for seaweed and coffee factories. They sound like must see places so we promptly agree to go directly even though we were exhausted from the 20 hour flight. We pull up to the first building with several tour guide cars parked in front. Suspicion mounting, I enter to find a shop where we're greeted by shop attendants in Chinese who briskly try to sell us seaweed, Balinese tiger balm, bird's nest, shark's fin, drink powder...I want to leave immediately, but we're made to eat seaweed soup to guilt us into buying, but we awkwardly take our leave without purchasing.
With resignation, I'm driven to the "coffee factory" where we pull up to another parking lot full of tour guide cars. The entryway another saleswoman greeting us in Chinese but this time featuring several forlorn women picking through coffee beans and I have to wonder if they are just a prop to sell overpriced coffee beans. We're led to the coffee tasting room where we taste an inferior(ly made) cup of coffee then a better (way more expensive) one. I had no inclination to purchase when we had no idea the cost of anything.
These two shops cast a pall over my excitement and my expectations from our guide, whom I now distrusted.
Exhausted, we go to dinner then drive the 1 trip to our villa...where things start to look up. Way up.
As with every line in which I'm in a different one from anyone I know or even recognise it was a competition to get to the front. Won that meaningless competition and wended my way to find another slew of lines to get through immigration. Brief analysis of possible choices and I find myself in a decently short line. Turns out to be tortuously slow, but seeing as how Angela and Judy are still buying their visas in blissful unawareness of the massive lines that potentially await them if they don't find me VERY SOON.
Thank God for the blessings of height and the kindness of strangers. I was desperately trying to find them because if I got through first, I would likely be waiting by myself on the other side for a good hour the lines had gotten so long behind me as the gates seemed to be continually disgorging passengers. On tip-toes peering over the tops of hundreds of asian heads, I spotted Angela and calling out her name in a rather unseemly fashion, she wandered about oblivious to the ruckus I was making. The tall Chinese young lady gestured to hold my place in line while I tracked her down and there we all were waiting in line reunited. Seemed more harrowing then than it sounds in type...
After gathering our luggage (with much hand wringing from our paranoid resident, Judy) we headed out to meet our tour guide and driver.
Seems nice enough and we promtly get a perfunctory flower necklace as well as a straw (?) hat that I can't bring myself to put on, though Judy and Ang cheerfully don it. The guide explained that there wouldn't be time to take us to some special "very Balinese" shops for seaweed and coffee factories. They sound like must see places so we promptly agree to go directly even though we were exhausted from the 20 hour flight. We pull up to the first building with several tour guide cars parked in front. Suspicion mounting, I enter to find a shop where we're greeted by shop attendants in Chinese who briskly try to sell us seaweed, Balinese tiger balm, bird's nest, shark's fin, drink powder...I want to leave immediately, but we're made to eat seaweed soup to guilt us into buying, but we awkwardly take our leave without purchasing.
With resignation, I'm driven to the "coffee factory" where we pull up to another parking lot full of tour guide cars. The entryway another saleswoman greeting us in Chinese but this time featuring several forlorn women picking through coffee beans and I have to wonder if they are just a prop to sell overpriced coffee beans. We're led to the coffee tasting room where we taste an inferior(ly made) cup of coffee then a better (way more expensive) one. I had no inclination to purchase when we had no idea the cost of anything.
These two shops cast a pall over my excitement and my expectations from our guide, whom I now distrusted.
Exhausted, we go to dinner then drive the 1 trip to our villa...where things start to look up. Way up.