Have you even Bali’d bro?

You know you’re off to a great start of a promising Bali future when you electrocute yourself and drink tap water in the first day. The last month living in this island paradise has flown but when I think back it’s been a whirlwind of scooter crashes, drunken nights, sunny productive days, dentist visits and more laughs had than ever before in my life. Arriving into your shared villa at the approach of silly season, living with a bunch of absolute legends can be tough on the old body. Every second night was a night out, every second day was a hangover from hell.

And I write this while nursing a brutal hangover on 4 hours sleep after at least 15 frozen mango margaritas were had at Old Mans last night. The second night in a week my visiting mate managed to crash his scooter, this time passenger in tow. All victims totally OK apart from the classic Bali scars (knee, side and shoulder grazes) which makes the memory of it hilarious. Just as hilarious as the night I drove my scooter into a river on my way home from Old Mans yet again. That night I had popped into the pub for “one cheeky beer”, but we got totally rained in, it was torrential and not at all suitable riding conditions. So what does one do when rained into the pub? She drinks tequila, of course. The night before I’d crashed into the back of a friend while watching another friend flip off his bike into a ditch. So we all decided to be extra careful on this particular night and travel super slowly. It was still drizzling when we left the pub so I put on my poncho for the ride. Well let’s just say a poncho is fucking useless when you are submerged waist deep in a river.

I was at the back of our pack, our bike gang if you will. Everyone ahead took a left onto a bridge. I also took a left, a metre shy of said bridge and found myself and my poor scooter in a muddy river, scoopy almost washing away. I was literally stuck in the mud. Unfortunately my trusty Havaiana thongs had to be left behind. 2 locals and a friend managed to pluck the scooter from the river in time and like the trusty old Scoopy she was she started first go. Despite being covered in smelly river mud you wouldn’t have ever known. Off I continued on my scoot looking like a total nut job laughing hysterically to myself all the way home.

Like many good things in life they do come to an end. Shortly after the river swim poor Scoopy was stolen from outside another pub in Canggu. After 2 crashes 2 nights in a row I decided I should start to be a little safer. My Gu Crew and I went to a bar a couple of nights before Christmas and after an incredible amount of Bintangs I decided it would be wise to jump on someone else’s scooter and leave mine there, as many people do.

The next morning I returned to collect her and she was gone. I wondered how pissed I really was and if I’d gone and driven it somewhere else. Nope, that’s where I parked my scooter. The week that followed was a typical Bali nightmare. Between the scooter rental agency, police and translators I spent at least 12 hours on this missing scooter saga. The rental agency thought I was a pissed twat that had just lost the bike, the police didn’t speak a word of English nor do they really give a shit and I spent most of my days scouring Canggu hoping some even more pissed idiot rode the scooter home accidentally and I’d find it (apparently this happens often.) As you can imagine Bali police stations are interesting.. dogs and lizards hanging about everywhere, the cops all smoking inside a tiny room straight into your face, the cop taking the report is a 1 finger per hand kinda computer typer.

Long story short after a week of stress I paid 2 million rupiah (approx $200AUD) which all in all isn’t so bad. This was after the scooter rental agency was demanding up to $1200AUD. Almost everyone in Canggu believes they found it and made a quick $200 out of me. #balilife

Despite most of my first month of Bali stories involving alcohol there has been more to it than that. Sunny days lazing by the villa pool (I live in a freaking villa!), hanging at cafes that offer the most incredible food in the world, working out in a gym where 50% of the members are barefoot, scooting across Bali for visa extensions or a grocery shop and my favourite; watching some of the worlds best sunsets from the beach.. almost every day. But yeah OK, most of it has been involving alcohol, let’s get back to that shall we.

If you’ve followed my blog for a few years now you’d know how lucky I am with my teeth. About as lucky as I am with men. About as lucky as getting shat on by a bird. Me + alcohol + front teeth just do not mix. So of course in a month of boozing something was bound to happen. Unfortunately folks I don’t even have a good story to tell with this one. I somehow chipped my front tooth and I have no idea how. Chipped tooth? No biggie. Chipped tooth that covers a silver wing attached to your crown bridge? GIRLS GOT GRILLZ. I literally woke up looking like I had grillz.

Off we go to try to find a dentist open in Bali on a Sunday. Luckily we found one super early into our journey to Kuta (I fucking hate Kuta!) Unluckily the dentist was horrific, let’s just say I probably wouldn’t recommend a dog eat from there. But anything to not have to go to Kuta. On top of the conditions of the dental surgery the “dentist” was about 14 years old. I thought he was a receptionist who was going to fetch the real dentist but when he told me to lay down and started grabbing tools I realised it was in fact him. He glued my bridge back in and capped the tooth. He told me to look at it in the mirror. I sat up, looked in the mirror, cap falls out. Cheers mate! Top job! Another cap & $50 later I have an off coloured tooth, but a week in and it’s still hanging in there.

I went over to Gili T for New Year’s Eve. Me + Gili T = WILD CHILD. Ozzy Osborne style wild. So arriving on the 30th December and convincing myself I’d have a fairly quiet night before New Year’s Eve was more than ridiculous. I saw the first sunrise I’d seen in a while on my walk home across the island, rolling in to our villa at 7am. New Year’s Eve was a shit show.. I managed to drink enough Extra Joss to keep my eyes open until midnight (which turned into 4am), but between ex boyfriends appearances and other wankers it was a c*** of a night. Apart from the fireworks of course. Who doesn’t like fireworks? Fortunately I managed to make up for it on New Years Day where I parked my ass on the same sun lounger for 9 hours, drinking Bintangs, eating all the food and hanging with absolute legends. The little Gili getaway pretty much sums up my shit show 2017 and hopefully the first day of 2018 is a taste of what’s to come.

All in all I’ve made some incredible life long friends, I’ve had some of my most amazing friends come and visit, I laughed until my stomach hurt every day, I cried more than once, I even had myself a lovely anxiety attack, but most of all I’ve had a ball! The Bali life this time around is testing me but treating me well. I’m broke, a little tired and not as fit as I’d like to be. But I’m tanned, have a full set of teeth and a new ripper of a Scoopy.

Oh and on a parting note I’d just like to inform you that I can now officially do the splits. When drunk. Over and over. In the pub. Unfortunately drunk Nadine thinks it’s a real hit and I now wake up with pulled muscles on my inner thighs on every single hangover. Winner, winner chicken dinner ?

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