Or is it?
After one hundred million bintangs, a beautiful beet-red sunburn, miles of sweaty strolling (chafing), and many long gazes of utter admiration (because you know, I had nothing else to do..) it is good to be home.
The trip was a big fat success in every regard.
Abbey and I kicked it off with a marathon drinking session (standard), resulting in a terrible hangover for our very first day. After a nauseating (I'm talking a litre of spew nestled in the back of my throat threatening to say boo at any moment) boat trip, we found ourselves located in pure paradise;
Hello Nusa Lembongan you total dreamboat you!
How I had never set my little kickers upon that white sand before is beyond me. Bali felt like a lifetime away from this untouched, magical land. We spent two days soaking, scootering, sight-seeing, skulling, sweating, and snorting with laugher here, and I can safely say, it was the highlight of the trip by a white, sandy mile.
Post paradise, we ventured back to the mainland to take care of some serious business. First stop, the wedding venue for food tasting;
Yes, very serious, stressful stuff.
Sadly, Abbey departed after our day in Uluwatu, and I had no choice but to take over and drink bintangs for the both of us. I ended up staying at a lovely little boutique villa in the soon-to-be-super-busy Canggu. The place was buzzing with laid back surfers & carefree dreadlocked women, reeking of freedom & spirit. There were yoga shacks nestled amongst rice fields, & organic cafes & beachfront pubs with witty quotes galore;
It was 'oh so trendy'
So I hung out there with my wedding planner Libby for a couple of days, checking out furniture, testing cakes, meeting the celebrant and so on..
And that left me with a final two days to lazily wander the streets, people watch, and peruse menus. Admittedly, I was feeling rather anxious to see the two sprogs by that point. When in everyday life, 7 days feels like a few hours, those 7 days away felt like a lifetime.
The return flight was booked for a horrid time of 2am, so I booked myself into a hotel in Kuta with big plans to go to bed at 6pm, wake at 12am as fresh as a daisy, and own that mofo'ing 4 hour flight.
That was until I walked past a bar at 4pm and decided to stop in for one last bintang. It was there that I met a 55 year old washup, Neil Young wannabe by the name of Baz. And boy was he a hoot and a half. Fast forward 6 hours and I made it to my room with 2 hours to spare. As if that wasn't idiotic enough, I then set my alarm for 12pm rather than am, yet miraculously awoke with a jolt at 12:45am. I was not missing that flight. After a mild heart attack and a rush that resulted in bruises & a motorbike ride that left me frazzled, my sorry ass made it to check in on time! (Just)
The rest is history.
And so here I am, mopping up one very dirty nearly one-year olds (!!!!!!) cheeks, and laughing at my two year olds farts.
Knowing that we will be back in Bali in 11 short weeks time, makes the monotony of everyday life just that little bit (ginormous amount) more exciting though, and it also ups the nerves tenfold. I'm fairly sure we are on track with it all, even though my dress is a disaster at the mo. No biggy right? Ha ha ha- insert nervous laughter.
Meanwhile, being back into routine is bliss, and particularly being back at the gym. Strangely, I really didn't enjoy doing nothing but walking for that week. I had thought I would relish in the break, but no, I'm a sucker for a good old sweat up.
The kids are tugging at my hair, I better scoot,
Hope you are all doing swimmingly! Looking forward to spending more time blogging in the very near future so watch this space,
Au Revoir pretties,
Gem
Thought of the day "friyyyyaaayyy"
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