Bali - First Impressions
I arrived at Bali sometime before 18:00 local time, after a 7 ½ hour flight plus an additional 40 or so minutes of circling the ocean just outside the airport
Upon leaving the international airport I was immediately bombarded by unsolicited offers for taxi rides. Today I learned a lot about myself - what sort of person I am and what my breaking point is for a accepting a taxi ride.
I guess I am a fresh off the plane naive-but-cashed-up New Zealander who was basically born yesterday - evident in the fact that I accepted the offer after being followed 50 metres. In hindsight I realised I paid about double what I could have. (Even by NZ standards I reckon this was quite expensive) The ride probably took 30 minutes but we only covered about 2km. Shoulda caught a scooter ride.
Using a compass most of the way I miraculously made it from central Kuta to my hostel - Sweaty as fuck due to wearing 3 layers.
Walking through the streets of Kuta at night was a sensory overload; a combination of trying to find my way to the hostel, avoiding potholes, scooters, and unsolicited offers, all whilst taking in the vibrant and somewhat quirky urban squalor.
The hostel is ok. I’m actually quite shocked at how poor the build quality is. You know how when the floor of your room resembles your driveway back home in New Zealand but somehow manages to look even more shit.
The Indonesian guests and staff who seem to outnumber the foreigners also don’t seem to understand the concept of ‘day time voices’ and ‘night time voices’. I’m actually sitting there typing this up at half past 12 at night because I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because some people think it’s ok to suddenly start having hilarious phone conversations at 11pm. Some people also think it’s ok to burst into the room at around the same time and start a conversation - a loud one.
The wifi is slow and cuts out intermittently
I sound like such an old white person right now.
Upon leaving the international airport I was immediately bombarded by unsolicited offers for taxi rides. Today I learned a lot about myself - what sort of person I am and what my breaking point is for a accepting a taxi ride.
I guess I am a fresh off the plane naive-but-cashed-up New Zealander who was basically born yesterday - evident in the fact that I accepted the offer after being followed 50 metres. In hindsight I realised I paid about double what I could have. (Even by NZ standards I reckon this was quite expensive) The ride probably took 30 minutes but we only covered about 2km. Shoulda caught a scooter ride.
Using a compass most of the way I miraculously made it from central Kuta to my hostel - Sweaty as fuck due to wearing 3 layers.
Walking through the streets of Kuta at night was a sensory overload; a combination of trying to find my way to the hostel, avoiding potholes, scooters, and unsolicited offers, all whilst taking in the vibrant and somewhat quirky urban squalor.
The hostel is ok. I’m actually quite shocked at how poor the build quality is. You know how when the floor of your room resembles your driveway back home in New Zealand but somehow manages to look even more shit.
The Indonesian guests and staff who seem to outnumber the foreigners also don’t seem to understand the concept of ‘day time voices’ and ‘night time voices’. I’m actually sitting there typing this up at half past 12 at night because I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because some people think it’s ok to suddenly start having hilarious phone conversations at 11pm. Some people also think it’s ok to burst into the room at around the same time and start a conversation - a loud one.
The wifi is slow and cuts out intermittently
I sound like such an old white person right now.
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