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That weighted scent of incense as you step of the plane,

Hot and heavy on your skin.

Voices either side, ‘taxi’ ‘taxi’

Unmistakeable. Addictive.

Welcome to Bali.

I’m flying on Saturday.

I got flights so cheap that I couldn’t say no. I’ll be meeting some friends from Africa that I cannot wait to see. They’re already there, frothing out, going to parties on the cliffs of Uluwatu.

It took only three months for my feet to get so itchy I had to get back into the chaos of third world tropics. My favourite kind of place.

And by golly do I feel like I need a holiday. From my hectic life of relaxation. Now that my credit card is paid off (or was until late last night when I got nabbed by the sheriff for unpaid speeding fines) and I can return to racking it up again like I have cash to burn.

It’s supposed to be only ten days, but maybe I’ll stay forever. Lost in the wonderland of my oblivion. Nowhere to be.

Just me.

A surfboard.

And a whole lot of laughs.


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