With the large swell subsiding it was time to come home to Canggu. Having been in Bali for five days and still barely having dipped a toe in the ocean, I was gasping to get out there. Blissed out from my time in Ubud, I grabbed a taxi at dusk, looking forward to sleeping in my own bed and waking up for an early to surf.
Canggu is small enough that (while I assumed no taxi driver would know where I was staying), you just ask and figure it out. Still, the innocent young man had to pull over a few times to phone friends for directions and finally, in the dark and in triumph he pulled off the road to show me Echo beach. His exuberance was short lived as all of a sudden 'BOOM', into a bloody great hole went his side of the vehicle. "Oh shit" I thought, "this isn't good". As we both clambered out, I observed the taxi's rear passenger wheel was up in the air, slowly spinning aimless and confused. Yet in true Balaniese style, all the scootering passers by simply stopped and as if on cue, some directed traffic while the rest heaved and hoed the van out its hole. My poor driver was shaken but not stirred and I was beckoned back in the vehicle.....oh lordy, what to do, what to do? Still, we'd come this far together so I wasn't about to ditch him now. 'Ditch' being the operative word, as I walked in blackness toward the van, 'BOOM 'I fell into a bloody great hole (a different one) and heard myself whimper 'help me'!
Oh boy.... as the same van pushing blokes now hoiked me out of the pit, I hitched my skirt and saw blood. Crikey, not ideal and all I could think was 'fuck - how am I going to get in the water now'? Again, in the no-drama community way that is Balinese, my driver acquired a third passenger from loony tunes corner who became our human GPS. He guided us home and I handed over my money to rapid fire "sorry Miss, sorry Miss, sorry Miss".
Just a flesh wound and sprained ankle, 'lucky' about covers it.
As the next morning unfolded, conditions were still stormy, so it was time to put the kettle on and chill.
"Pero, get out of the kitchen"!
You can't make this shit up and as I retold my latest misfortunate incident to my friends - (given my track record so far), we were all in stitches.
I believe I neglected to mention on day one, I couldn't find my scooter key, only to discover it was in the helmet, which was firmly on my head. On day two I accidently toppled over two other scooters in an unsuccessful attempt to steady myself, having not putting my kickstand down all the way! After the ditch tale, I was wondering if Patrizia and Andrea would simply lock me in my room for two weeks to keep me out of harms way! Not a chance, my daily calamities were a vast scource of amusement and they were not about to rob themselves off that. "Toast-catch"!
Day six - gashed leg, swollen ankle and rain. Perfect for pool surfing.....
And underwater baby stone training......
And band practice..........it was good to be 'home', surely tomorrow I'd get in the water?