Flying to Bali

I'm off on my travels again. Right now I am sat in the departure lounge at Perth Airport. It's 4.30 in the afternoon and I have just caught a taxi straight here from work. Tonight I fly out to Bali for a three-day break.

I am surprised to note from the entry and exit stamps on my passport that my latest stretch in Australia has been a few days shy of eighteen months. A lot has occurred for me in that short time. Long may the forces of change and upheaval continue their bewitching dance!

I've never been to Bali before. I'm excited to see it. Right now I'm killing time till my flight boards. I always find flying exciting - it takes me back to the very first family holiday when I went abroad with my mum and dad.

It was the early nineties and we spent two weeks in sunny Bulgaria. The Communists had left buildings unfinished everywhere and there were topless women on the beach. I loved it. Maybe there is still a subconscious link in my head between getting on a plane and seeing girls' tits. I just enjoy flying.

I'm stopping at a villa in Seminyak that my friends have rented out. It has a pool and a pool table. Yes, that's right, two accessories with the word 'pool' in the title. And there's more features too, including some wicker chairs and maybe some beds and light sockets. It promises to be the height of luxury - it looked great in the photos and we only payed about $35 each a night for it.

Before I get there, another encounter with Air Asia, a microwaved meal of Nasi Lemak (egg noodles, non-fascist related) during my flight and possibly a cheeky beer to go with it!