Every time I come to Bali, it's a long (now with the new "security" b.s., about 35 hrs total, from door to door) but exciting trip, but I must confess that the glamour of the flight, for the most part, has disappeared. Except starting from the moment when the Captain announces that we are about to descend for the final approach to Ngurah Rai. Then, I take a trip back in time: the feelings of excitement and anticipation are the same as they were 10, 15, 25 years ago. Even though I should be tired, as I step out of the plane, I've never been so awake in my life. The smell of frangipani, kretek, and wood fires (and some jet fumes) hits my nostrils, and now I am "flying" for sure. I walk the long corridors (It seems they are never the same) to imigrasi and customs (now really a breeze). As I step outside the terminal, I see my friends waiting for me: although Bali has never been my home, I honestly feel I am now really back HOME.
My friends would have brought me a large Aqua and a pack of Gudang Garam "filterrrrr," and as we find our way to Sanur, we carry small talk about the families, the latest situation in Bali, etc. As my arrival is always in the early afternoon, everything is quiet (and hot). They drop me at the hotel, wait for me to settle down, and we then spend the rest of the day in the most enjoyable togetherness. But in the evening, I am alone. I walk through the dark and almost deserted Jl Danau Tamblingan, eventually stopping for a most relaxing dinner in a small restaurant. Returning to my room, I will spend several additional hours on the balcony, enjoying the heat, the smells, the noises of the night, and before I know it, my pack of Gudam Garam is gone: it's time to go to bed. This is genuine, unadulterated blithe, at least for to night…
PS. Well, I know that I am not a good writer, but I am sure most of you will know what I meant.
