If you can believe it we discussed whether or not I should remove the pin from the tail of Dr. Vegas, it holds it on, and I was worried they would take him away, I did remove his mask as shown above, he wore it in the beret style or not at all until we arrived in Bali, our final destination. Taking the mask off was a no brainer he looks like a bank robber minimum with that thing on. Adam said I should take the pin out, but I thought of babies, remembered that I was a cloth diaper baby and so there must be moms out there using pins in the diapers and not all Velcro. I realize that Dr. Vegas is a sock monkey and not a living thing but even though we were discussing it, and even though I had a vivid image of standing there while they humiliated Dr. Vegas by making me remove his tail and how odd and embarrassing it would be for us both, I decided the tail was staying.

First thing is that yes I did just say arrived in Bali, and secondly on the return Dr. Vegas stayed in the checked luggage. And to make a possible long tangent short I will just quickly add that we haven’t pinned a tail on a monkey in years the crotches are sewn with precise and sometimes intense whip stitches and the tails are also sewn on with a few extra whips of the stitch for added strength. Dr. Vegas, like his brother Dr. Fever, is one of the originals when we didn’t even know they took two socks to make we just made what we thought would look like a monkey.

I didn’t even tell the vast majority of my closest friends that I was going to Bali because the trip came out of no where and was a secret surprise of monumental proportions. Top Secret. Mission surprise mom for parents 40th wedding anniversary went into full affect. I figured even though I know I can trust my friends that it was best to say nothing, my mom is pretty up on my online activity and there were a lot of missions to action before take off.

I won’t lie I was incredibly nervous and discussed the trip in therapy and with Adam. After all of the intense drama that happened at the beginning of the year it was a bit daunting knowing that he would be staying home this go and I’d be alone with my parents for over two weeks having no idea how things would be with my dad, we didn’t even actually speak until the trip was already booked and my parents were in Denpasar where the internets are a little bit faster so we could see one another and we had a Skype conversation actually speaking in code part of the time while my mom was there and none the wiser, it was the first time I’d seen him or heard his voice is close to a year and here I was about to show up at his house invited or not I spent one minute freaking out like HOLY FUCK I’M GOING TO BALI and the rest like HOLY FUCK will things be okay with my parents and I?

Cathay Pacific rules, I had uneventful flights, on the way down I watched, The Proposal and The Hangover.  The Hong Kong airport was fun to hang out in minus the SARS mask invasion, not as intense as ET but how long will it be till they are all in full suits? Given the choice between the fear injection you receive every two minutes in all American airports – “please report any suspicious looking persons and unattended baggage ….” –  I’ll take the SARS masks, then I can hide my suspicious lookingness anyway.

When I stepped off the plane in Bali I was smacked in the face with the distinct smell of gas mixed with heat mixed with exhaust, I know crazy right? Not the typical vacation smell which is one of my very most favourite smells on the face of the earth.  I thought it was just the airport but everywhere smelt explosive to me and this isn’t just because they sell gas in bottles right on the side of the road so close to your vehicle you could grab it, but it probably doesn’t hurt either. I thought it was shitty wine at first but nope, bottles of gas. I got stuck in the airport for an hour and a half, fuck man I was beyond grumpy, beyond freaked out that my driver would be gone, my head was pounding, my eyes hurt, the ceilings were way low, at first I got in the wrong visa line, I was so hot and light headed I probably could have dropped dead from exhaustion if I had to wait one more minute in the let me in the bloody country line, all I knew was that there would be a dude there with my name on a sign to drive me to Singaraja on the opposite side of the Island another three and a half hour drive minimum away and I had already been traveling fifteen hours ahead in time for more time than that. BUT HOLY FUCK IM IN BALI! Hence this is where I stop complaining.

Even though it gets dark relatively early there around 18:00 hours and we didn’t get out of the airport till 16:30ish that initial drive all the way north from Denpasar in the south was one of the most beautiful drives I have ever been on. I covered a wide array of terrain from areas of intense traffic like I have never witnessed before, Bali has a scooter per every person in Vancouver and then some, through areas of nothing but rice fields and mountain views, scooters buzz by in every direction, they pass on every side in every direction, you quickly learn the horn in Bali is as valuable as the entire vehicle, be it scooter or car.  It is nearly impossible to tell the difference between someone honking at you because they are pissed off or just giving you courtesy honks as they literally fly by you. By the time I got to my parents place I was having an extremely hard time figuring out why they waste the paint to make non passing areas across the island it is almost comical that they bother.  It was dark when we hit the famous Monkey Forest coming over the mountain and it had started to rain but I saw one or two sitting around eating bananas and knew I would be back to that area anyway.

Driving over the mountain can make even the strongest stomach squeamish as I later learned when I relayed my trip over it to my dad who confessed it had almost made him yack a time or two. It is uphill switchbacks and downhill switchbacks, with let us not forget scooters and fast drivers passing at every free moment, tight turns in one and then the other direction that open to more switchbacks, basically if there isn’t a roller-coaster designed with thoughts of that road in mind, there should be.  To say there are statues and temples everywhere would be an understatement, you don’t buy a chocolate bar when you have a few extra rupiah in Bali you buy a temple and then you buy a chocolate bar but you offer to the Gods, trust me I have a photo.

The road you turn off of just outside of Singaraja reminded me of being up north, it is dirt, with full size tire pot holes and it isn’t finished being built yet, it probably won’t get much better than it is it’ll just get driven on more as more people move into the area so it will get wider on its own. It was oddly comforting even though I was far, very very far from visiting my parents in Prince George. We pulled up to the house and after I did almost fall over, Jackie, the driver grabbed me, with legs made of what felt like twigs I made my way to the front area of my parents house, having been staring at it in photos for almost a year saying this moment was surreal would be accurate.

I walked toward the outside sitting area where I could see my parents reading from their eBooks. Other than their lights (power saving I might add) it was pitch dark almost 19:00, my mom didn’t even hear me approaching, it is the windy season there and it was whipping up a fuss, my dad had of course heard us pull up and was waiting, finally I said “Hi Mom” but even when she looked over it didn’t register and so I repeated myself, still, oh wait, we have recognition but it didn’t take away the disbelief.  But how she starts to wonder out loud as she starts to realize I’m really there having made it into hugging distance. So she is crying and I may have shed a wee tear and by this time my dad has already gone to get my luggage and pay the driver and did I mention that HOLY FUCK I’M IN BALI!

To be continued…. with pictures!

all photos from Bali – 2009

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 7th, 2009 at 19:56 and is filed under Bali Trip - 2009, Sock Monkeys. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site. All content (c) 2005 - 2010 Gus Greeper, unless otherwise credited. All rights reserved.