Meanwhile back in Ubud

Meanwhile back in Ubud, the rice paddies surrounding our villa are waterbeds, filled to the brim. The men working in the fields slosh their way through the mud, having to lift the feet high to move forward. The flocks of noisy ducks swim and peck their way through what looks like duckweed floating on the surface. It is the time to catch the eel that lives in the paddies. The young kids do it when it is dark, first with their fathers and then when they are a little older on their own.




Villages have hung out the flags of the countries participating in the World Cup, Jip names them all as we pass, some have just one or two, we assume the favorites. The illegal betting season is hereby underway. Kites fly everywhere in the sky, kite season is also starting- and sometimes little boys chase each other like mad along the road, to be the first one to catch a run-away kite, just like in the Kite runner.

Traffic is increasing in Ubud and we have been told it will only get worse. I hide in Bar Luna when I can, often being the only one, writing in the corner. The fans rotate softly and the coffee is good.

We have bought two big aluminum spades at a dusty hardware store for Jip to dig. He likes digging deep holes and the plastic shovel in Rosie’s beach set wasn’t cutting it. Balinese stop to ask what we are doing. “Digging to America” we say together and they stand and look on in amazement at this pointless exercise.

Rosie biggest act of revenge this week was to convert Jip’s special drawing of a fierce knight in armor, brandishing a sword, into a girl, by adding a skirt, and a flower at the tip of his sword. This was after Jip refused to let her play his game. She knows how to hit him where it hurts.

Every time I say rainy season is finally over, it rains again.




The bali bugs multiply; grasshoppers are hopping, big buzzing things are buzzing, fruit flies hover and ants march in line, transporting the crumbs we care to drop on the tiles. We hear creatures running across our roof at night and sometimes we hear a thud as one falls. The word rat has been mentioned.

I bought a big blue hat from Panama.

My husband is on his way to meet me bali style, with both children on the scooter. Rosie sings as she sits up front: “turn on the sun, turn on the sun, light up the world, tell everyone…” It is not as warm as it has been and the breeze is gentle. A scooter ride is quite the best way to go.




School year is over. Reports handed out. It seems we have hardly had time to get into the groove. We are preparing for our month long trip, through Vietnam, Cambodia and Australia. I know it’s like an American whizzing through Europe in a week, but we are not doing everything in 30 days, just a lot.

We have been spending a lot of time on the internet, looking at hotels on wotif.com, cross-referencing with trip advisor, booking.com and the hotels own sites, before deciding what to do. We will be taking 10 flights, one train ride, many boat excursions, sleep in 15 different hotels, 4 campsites and on a boat before ending at friends in Sydney.

My children don’t like change.

Off in an hour. See you along the way.

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