Jax Burgoyne Writes

Causes hysteria.  This is science-fact.

By the end of it the four of us (me on just a cup of tea, the others had had a couple of airplane drinks) were giggling at everything.  Like walking along the Nothing to Declare (Customs) aisle - hoping that you didn't need to declare a massive lump of parmesan and a bottle of balsamic vinegar - and seeing a 'Bird Flu Surrender Point'.  Wildly optimistic I think.  (Bird Flu can't read, and even if it did, would it obey the command?)  Actually I was the only one who laughed at that.  Tea, it's a strong substance.

So, basically, we managed to get to the airport (Bologna) on time.  Me, Lizzie, Sujata and Toby.  Having attempted to teach/art/sport/drama about 60 Italian kids for two weeks.  We left a bit late, had to take a different exit because our driver's first choice was closed, but somehow we arrived in plenty of time.  Magic! 

We had a cup of tea, some Kinder chocolate stick things (I can never remember what they're called, but the boy on the front inspired my naked-teeth confusion dream - I'll explain that later, if I remember.), and then walked through the scanners, past the passport people etc, and I think it was Lizzie who said, "Wow, I've never had such a hassle-free journey."  Or something like that.  Obviously the title of this post has already told you where this is going.

We got on the plane and sat around for a while.  The captain man gave us regular updates.  Their systems were registering a problem.   An engineer had been called.  Sujata noticed retrospectively that he'd never said, "We'll be leaving shortly."  This was a clue.  Basically, in the end they'd found a sensor in the engine which wasn't working.  They sent us off the plane and gave us a complimentary sandwich and drink at the somewhat rubbish cafe (I've known many better sandwiches).  We ambled round a bit, and then sat to watch Coupling (I had Quentin with me! - laptop).  HALFWAY through the first episode of Season 2 - where Jeff has too many legs - we were summoned somewhere.  And then somewhere else.  There wasn't much information going on.  Generally we acted like dazed herd beasts, hoping that the one in front knew where he or she was actually going.  Rumours.  Many rumours.  Occasionally we glimpsed a person who was in a BA uniform.  Occasionally there was an announcement, which was always in Italian first, which gave them an advantage!  We went in one place and out another.   We were told to go to Belt 8 for our luggage.  We got to Belt 6 and that seemed to be the last.  We went to Lost Property and queued there for a while.  We managed to find Belt 8.  We got our luggage.  We went a few other places.  Someone's company had direct access to BA and had been told they were flying in a plane to come get us.  (Oh, yes, by then we'd discovered somehow that the plane was unfixable.)  We had to go to the BA check-in desks.  Possibly.  We herded along. 

There were two groups of us - who'd been teaching at two nearby schools.  The bigger group, and then us.  My (smaller) group queued to rebook our tickets (this seemed to be the thing to do, or we'd heard something like that) but in the wrong queue - so we got to the front and were told to go to the queue with the other big group.  But this wasn't a queue, it was just a 'sitting vaguely in a line'.  They were playing cards.  I tried to fix Lizzie's wheely suitcase by sellotaping a pencil sharpener to it (one of its standy bits had fallen off).  However, despite my being known, as a child, as 'The Sellotape Girl', my skills were not up to the job.  At one point (when were were in the wrong queue), Lizzie asked me to tell her one of my funny tales, to cheer her up, so I told her about Sir Humpalot, aka Sugar, the rabbit who we used to babysit in America, and the kitten, which we'd also look after.  She liked the story :) 

Then TOBY went CRAZY!!!  Well, not crazy, but he got stressed out enough to go briefly awol, and returned having done something: although initially he'd been against the idea, insisting he was getting on a plane here and now or else, he now had signed up for The Coach.  They were coaching people to Milan (Linate) to fly out from there.  People with connections had priority.  But there was just enough space for 4 other people.  We were for some reason added under his surname.  So we were his siblings.  And mother/somewhat older sister.  (Sorry Sujata!)

We then were all called for the coach.  We ran out, desperately searching for it.  We looked left and then right.  It was neither way.  It hadn't arrived yet.  Everyone waited (again).  Sujata found a sponge ball in her bag and Toby and I tried to play hand tennis with it.  But we stopped after this man had to pick it up for us about 10 times in a minute.  On the coach Toby snuck on a secret side entrance, we went the main way and registered him, and he'd saved us a weird set of four seats around a table - like on a train except this was a tin can old coach which I think gave us fleas.  Toby kindly switched with me so I didn't have to travel backwards (makes me feel sick). 

When we got to Milan - or, possibly, at some point in Bologna - we went through a non-manned passport control.  We figured as no-one was there we could just walk through.  The plane had kindly waited for us for an hour.  Well, the hostess said they'd been delayed a bit anyway.  No-one actually hissed or booed as all us Bologna people staggered onto (well, we capered - hysteria!) the plane, but they probably hated us.  We were the Back Row.  Well, I was the Second to Back Row.  Toby, Lizzie and Sujata were the back row.

We asked for extra wraps - 'Back Row is hungry, could you give them an extra wrap?'  Yay!  The others were given extra drinks.  I snoozed and listened to music for a bit, and when I turned my music off because we were starting to land, they were in an excited discussion about all the horrendous ways you can die in an airport, why they ask you to adopt the brace position, that the oxygen is actually to sedate you (I don't know if any of this is true)....  And when we landed - well, you know when a car goes round a corner too fast and sort of goes on two wheels?  It felt a bit like that. 

We cracked up.

The air hostess said to the air host (who'd given us the extra wraps which, by the way, are delicious - best plane food I've ever had, thanks BA!), "Back Row is giggling.  It's my fault.  I gave them extra drinks."

I think he may have asked if everyone was ok.  They were very nice air steward people.  Air hosts.

On the way off the plane I joked that I'd set it all up (the delay) so my parents would be able to pick me up from the airport, having by this time completed their 40th anniversary partying (thanks parents!!).  And the air host said now we had a train to catch.  I looked at him in a cross between anger and disbelief.  And he said, "Don't look at me like that.  Mummy and Daddy can't pick you up from here."  Patronising joking tone.  Brilliant :) 

And there was a train, too!  In the airport.  Apparently Heathrow's quite big.  We were loudly chatting about where the train went - because on the line we were the first/last stop, but the train (empty) went somewhere else first, and a German (I think) lady told us never to ask this question, because if you rode the train the wrong way, you couldn't go back, but had to go all the way in and out of security again, and then be put on a 'special bus' for the stupid people who disobeyed the rules.  So we behaved ourselves.  I kept directing Toby the wrong way, to follow the purple signs (BA were giving hotels to those with connections, and we'd been told to follow those signs to get to flight connections).  He luckily ignored me.  But then, at the end, he unfortunately continued to ignore me - went through passport control to collect his luggage (surely a necessary act before going to a hotel) and then the purple signs disappeared!  In the end, however, the hotels were just for those with connections anyway.  He found another one, with his own mind and money, and went there.

Well, I got to the arrivals bit and my mummy and daddy were waiting.  Actually, my mummy had nipped off to the loo, but she soon returned.  So it all worked out perfectly for me.  Hurrah!

(And we all now have laughing-sixpacks.  We reckon.)

So, it doesn't take long to forget things.  I'm in Italy now (doing TEFL, which is why I'm currently covered in glitter.  Well, that actually wasn't the students - I bought glitter, and it exploded in my bag.  It's really hard to get off....), and I really should have done this in my day between flights!  (I flew to Italy on Saturday, and briefly freaked out because my watch said it was Sunday 3rd.  I think it must have been the time-changes, somehow.)

Quick summary then.  After Macau, during the day we...did something.  Hmm.  What did we do?  I think I had a nap.  And in the evening we went out for szechuan (thank you Google - did not know how to spell that) with some of Tabs and Matt's friends for a friend's birthday.  It was this great small place, up a few stairs and with kids' drawings on one of the walls (we contemplated adding to the collection).  There wasn't a menu - the woman who ran it just gave you various things.  And you could buy a can of coke etc, but had to bring your own wine/beer.  It was quite spicy but really nice.  Especially the beans.  As in pencil beans.  Not baked beans.

The next day Tabs had to work, so Zoe and I went on the tube/metro with our Octopus cards to the Ladies' Market, which was on the non-island side of Hong Kong (apparently the more 'Chinese' part).  I managed to improve my bargaining skills enough to barter about 50p off the cost of a pair of coral/red leggings which were a lot brighter once I looked at them in decent light, and maybe £1 (Zoe helped on this one - and she'd have helped more if I hadn't so clearly wanted the painting, praised it a lot, and questioned her negotiations) off a painting.  It was really nice, though: big, cost about £15, and I only left it 2 places on the way home (once in the scanner thing in Shanghai - a nice man shouted after me - "Miss!" - and waved the painting at me).  I managed to tear Zoe away - "Zoe, No More Handbags!" - at about 3/4pm and we went home, bought some thankyou gifts, realised we actually had very little time to meet Tabs, got ready, rushed out, and went for a very expensive cocktail in the tallest building in Hong Kong (Sky Tower I think).  There weren't any seats so we asked a man and woman if we could sit in front of them - opposite their sofa, with a table in between. 

They were on a date.

It didn't particularly seem like the woman wanted to be there.

Although maybe we were putting her off.

Next day/million years was travel home (on no sleep because someone - me, kept drinking water then going to wee), my Mum (thank you!) spent a day doing my laundry and also polishing my sandals, and now I'm here, in Savignano.

So that's it.  Thank you to those people who've read this :)

(And now, the final photos.)

The best thing about going to see the Cirque du Soleil do a Michael Jackson themed performance was the row of teenaged girls who every now and then (including when the screen whizzed up a MJ signature) screamed, 'We love you Michael!'.  Hopefully they were believers in the spirit world, and didn't think he was actually there. 

This was a trip (we're back in Hong Kong with Tabs and Matt again) that Tabs' friends had arranged for her birthday.  The music was fantastic (obviously), although occasionally they did remixes, or would have just a snippet of a song then move onto another, which made it intermittently hard to sing along.  It did feel more like a dance performance than a flying trapeze circus-stunts style thing (I was reminded of...that dance troupe that won Britain's Got Talent) - there were no diving through the air hands-free tricks.  A few people were lifted up and down on wires in pretty poses, one very flexible lady climbed out of a giant book, some men dressed in white Swan Lake-esque shorts did a few back flips....  And they began with MJ's childhood, and then moved onto his love of children (Neverland and some monkey I wasn't aware existed) - some slight awkwardness registered in even this stadium of fans. 

The most impressive thing - and it was very impressive - was the pole dancer.  And it wasn't sexy-vixen pole dancing, it was 'How the hell is she doing that?!' pole dancing.  I was trying to think of ways to describe it: basically if you imagine a star fish, a completely dried one, so rigid hard.  Put one point of it next to a pole, just touching.  Let go.  And it somehow stays up.  And twirls around a bit.  (It also climbed up the pole itself, before becoming rigid.)  How!?  Fingers of steel.

And yesterday we spent in Macau.  Gambling den of sin.  Also ex-Portuguese colony, so the old town bit of it had some beautiful Portuguese buildings in it.  We arrived at the fanciest hotel in the world.  (Well, the fanciest one I'd ever been in.)  It had a lounge, another lounge, a bathroom, a toilet, a bedroom, three big plasma tvs.  (We got a deal from a friend of Tabs' who worked there.)  Then we went out to the old town and to see a ruins bit.  In the old town, which was beautiful, we had some delicious tapas and Tabs coined a new phrase: water-juice.  This = ice :)  Zoe bought one of the famous custard tarts.  I did not, because I'm not really a fan of custard tarts. 

After that it was back to the hotel for complimentary cocktails/glass of wine, then across the street (more complicated than you'd think, but we were a little surprised that Tabs' friend had advised us to get one of the free coaches: it was genuinely the other side of the road) to the Venetian. 

In the hotel, I checked my phone and had received 4 text messages.  3 advertised hotels in the area, and one warned me severely against smoking in another hotel.  (And also said something about children, I think - presumably in a related way.)  I read some more of my book and discovered that the 100 years war DID actually last over 100 years.  I'd always assumed that was an exaggeration.  I expect, however, that they weren't fighting constantly the whole time.  Maybe it's like that country that's still at war from WWII (or something) because they forgot to finish the paperwork, or maybe it was more like every now and then a French or English family would look up over their breakfast/dinner and think 'Grr those French, I hate them, and we are at war with them'/the French equivalent.  Going out to drink our cocktail outside, I temporarily forgot where I was, and thought, 'Oh no, I'm a bit cold now, and I'm about to go outside.  If only I had my jacket.': stepped out the door and my glasses steamed up (a la entering a pub in England in Winter).

So, the Venetian.  I think I was told this is the biggest hotel in the world.  I would Google that fact to check it.  It has canals inside and outside, and you can go on a gondola ride if you want, under the painted blue sky.  It has shops, restaurants, bars with live music, I think a cinema, rooms to sleep in (presumably), and a casino.  Tabs was telling us about some of the tricks of the gambling trade: 1. They pump oxygen into the air so you don't get sleepy, 2. The blue sky etc are all so you don't know what time it is, 3.  She said it was really hard to find your way out.  There are some signs, but things are confusing.  We're not sure if this is an intentional trick or not - it took us 2 attempts to find our way out (stopped in a bar and listened to a fantastic band for a bit before attempt number two). 

And as for the Vice.  Zoe and Tabs had a go on a roulette wheel.  It was quite fun to watch it.  Zoe lost her money straight away, Tabs made some money.  It seemed to be more worthwhile (kind of unsurprisingly given statistics etc) to go for little wins by choosing red or black, or odds or evens etc, rather than hoping for a specific number or choice of 4.  A man came and sat next to me and fell asleep but somehow did not fall over, despite being perched on a stool, it was kind of scary and dead, in general, with lots of electronic screens rather than real-life things, and the croupiers were frequently asleep/rather angry looking (our one hated us, her life, and probably life in general)/one was doing some kind of meditation. 

The best part of the evening was when we went shopping. I didn't buy anything but Tabs found a nice dress and tried to help me into being fashionable/looking good by encouraging me to try it on - dress and cut being good etc.  I tried it on but wasn't convinced.  Change, ugh.  And in the process....  Well, Zoe and Tabs heard me laughing from inside the changing room, just little bursts of giggling.  Basically I somehow managed to get my long necklace down and round my waist while putting on the dress.  It had no clasp or anything, and was fairly snugly round my waist.  It made a nice belt-necklace thing, like were around in the 90's I think, but I had no way of removing it save scissors or someone else's assistance. 

Hee hee.  (I still keep laughing about it now.  How did I manage it?)

I needed help, so Zoe came in, with me standing in skirt and a bra, and pulled it up and back to round my neck.  Saviour! 

And now we're back at the flat and Tabs and Matt's kitten Audrey is back from staying at friends (they've been away on holiday while we've been away).  Audrey is a cat that is weirdly ginger: it looks like she's had ginger tips done over her general tortoiseshell fur.  And she miaows a lot.  But she is cute, because kittens can't not be.

For those of us who've seen 28 Days Later (Mum, Dad, it's a zombie film where this guy wakes up from a coma to find the streets and everywhere deserted - because the zombies are nocturnal!), certain scenes will always remind us of horrifying rabid humans ready to spit in our face or, indeed, tear our face off.

Nusa Dua shopping complex type place after 10am is a bit like that.  The airport was like that except not even remotely scary.  It was fun.  By the end of it Zoe and I were pretty frayed, but we managed to avoid arguments or violence.  Go us :)

The airport place we found to try to sleep had sofas, which was good, but was really air conditioned, and really well lit.  So we didn't really sleep.  11 hour layover.  We checked in (as we were told) and they reprinted our boarding passes (apparently these had been printed.  But they weren't given to us.) and then we had to go and hang out in the airport overnight - we stayed by Gate D3.  In the morning some perky Americans appeared: we went to Starbucks.

Oh, another word of warning about Denpasar Airport (Bali), which is the bane of Zoe and our lives: you have to pay to leave too.  Which they don't tell you when you're queueing for ages to have your passport looked at, or for various other things.  So you've gone through all the queues, checked in, dumped your luggage.  And you've got rid of all your money as felt you no longer needed it.  THEN you discover the charge, have to turn back, and there's no cash machine inside the terminal, so you have to go ALL THE WAY OUT AGAIN.  And queue again....  Annoying.

So back to the airport - this is what I wrote at the time (in a somewhat excited state, for some reason).

'Well, it's actually quite fun so far.  Had a cup of tea at Starbucks, which was still that big sack of twigs hey've switched to, but somehow tasted quite nice (without milk).  Maybe I'm getting used to it.  We met a US girl from...Maryland I think, who's also here overnight.  We've left her in Starbucks (now closed) but we might return. 

We've come to a nice rest place where there's these stamps (printing not licking) for your zodiac sign, and couches/soft sitting things long enough to lie on.  Obviously there is now in my notebook/art book a pig (me) and a rat (Zoe).  Zoe is doing yoga, and I just had great fun walking first all the way left, and then all the way right.  I've photographed bins and fire paraphenalia and other such stuff to my heart's content (well, the battery's going, but I was almost done anyway). 

To the left I found a Mind Rest Place (or something), including computers and books, but that was sadly just closing as I came back.  I've resisted running madly down the corridors/gap between the shops (not really a corridor - indoor avenue?  I'm sure there's a word), but I did have to go the wrong way down a travelator at what was probably the human equivalent of a fast trot.  I have so far resisted playing in the kid's place.  There's slides!!!

I'm going to read the patronising book a bit more (maybe) - and those brackets are to show it's very unlikely - draw a picture, then we'll probably watch The Holiday.'

(In the end I ran the wrong way on a travelator twice.  The second time quite fast - more of a canter.  I resisted all other temptations.)

(Except taking a photo of myself in one of those things where there's two people, like a mermaid and a seaman, with holes instead of faces.  Sadly you can't really see in the picture.)

Just thought I'd add a couple of bits about the pictures below and our final evening and morning in Bali, before moving onto The Layover.

First, when Zoe and I first arrived in Bali we saw these stands of Absolut vodka on the street.  Except it looked like it had been diluted with various amounts of wee!  I am pleased to report that don't worry, it's petrol.  However why Absolut vodka bottles are the petrol bottles of choice, I do not know.  Should have asked....

Second, on the last evening we treated ourselves to a Posh Night Out (although still only about £25 each for a meal).  Someone had recommended Potato Head, so out we went.  It's a restaurant/bar, and you drive/get driven by the taxi driver down a long entrance-road, staff members check the boot of the car, you rock up at a modern glass-shortscraper type building, BUT made with blue and green window shutters.  And when you enter (down another corridor), you're confronted with: WHAM!  (Club Tropicana.)  It's great!  I mean it's not quite that cheesy, but I just kept expecting George and the other one to suddenly appear in Relax t-shirts, shorts, orange tans, and start singing.  At this restaurant I had two new experiences: first, I had a drink recommended to me by the waiter.  A recommendation, which I followed!  And the other thing was that, when I received it, it was DELICIOUS!!  I had a Kookaburra.  Mainly because it was recommended, and also because it had the name (and the link to the song - Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree), and also because it was #33, which is a good number.  And yes, normally with alcoholic beverages they're quite nice, but there's still a feeling of drinking something somewhat for a purpose other than taste.  But this was exceptional: yum.

So then the next morning we packed and killed time (I wandered around a few side-streets), and I said goodbye to Jackie at the bar about 3 times because I kept passing back by, killing a little bit more time.  The third time he was a bit worried I'd miss my flight!

I kept on seeing Bintang everywhere.  It's apparently Indonesia's favourite beer.  I have now had one.  (At Jackie's place.  He doesn't own it, I don't think, but in my mind it's his place.)  And I'd seen some nice t-shirts and vest-tops with it on them.  I thought 'this would be a nice souvenir of the holiday, as long as I also drink one: it's quite nice, fairly standard and inoffensive beer.  I.e. along the Sol/Corona/um...green bottle, English? type beer.  Rather than that really strong tasting stuff that you get from Real Ale places like The Fat Cat (in Norwich). 

So, in a shop with all this 'cut price' stuff, the type you see everywhere, I found a top I liked.  I looked at it, critically.  (Don't show too much interest.)

One man said to me "100" - which means 100,000 IDR".

I had read in The Book, that you usually offered, first, a third or half of the price, and then they counter-offered, and eventually you agreed on about 2/3 of the price.
I said, "300" (which means 300,000 IDR).  The man looked confused.
I said, "I mean 600."
Zoe managed to get me to then say '60' instead.
Another man in the shop came up.
He said, "120."
I said, "Wait, that man said 100."
Then I said to Zoe, "Hmm, do you think it'll be a bit see-through."  (Cunning move!)
I said, "60."
He said, "You have to give me over 100."
I said, "70."
Zoe said, "Come on, let's go."
He said, "Ok, 70."
I said, "80."
He said, "Ok."
I said, "Wait, I meant 70...."  But it was too late.  D'oh.
Still, that was my first bit of bartering.
Good thing Zoe was there.