Day01

Friday 15 September 2000.

Day 1.

After a very pleasant flight with Garuda and a smooth passage through the Immigration checks, with none of the delays anticipated from previous experiences, we secured a porter with a nice crisp $5 note and waited for the luggage to appear. Again, little delay, and no dreaded chalk crosses on the cases despite being more than 1 or 2 kilos overweight. The 18 kilos of dry dog food for the Bali Street Animal Foundation sat in its hessian sack on top of everything else as we marched off to the Customs desk. We were heading straight through behind the porter when the unusual sack caught The Man’s eye and he imperiously pointed at it and, almost in the same motion, beckoned us over. Needless to say we obeyed without hesitation, well maybe I did for just a fraction of a second but not enough to be noticed. We had written all over the bag what was in it and to whom it was going, but we were required to explain it in detail anyway for his benefit. When he was convinced that we were not pulling his leg he broke into a smile which may really have been a restrained laugh. Who would ever think of bringing food all the way to Bali to feed the dogs? In case we really were crazy, and it might have been catching, we were quickly sent on our way. The glass containers of bubbly tea and the cardboard cartons of pre-mixed coffee remained safely where they were, far down away from casual eyes.

Nell negotiated a 6 seater to take all our gear and us from the airport to the Sheraton Nusa Indah. With consummate skill and little delay his opening price of $20 became an accepted $10 and we were loaded and away. The pleasant ride along Jalan By Pass Ngurah Rai to Nusa Dua came to an abrupt end when the proffered $10 Australian was vigorously rejected and $10 US (nearly double) was demanded in an uncharacteristic display of loud anger. Nothing would calm the situation and what I thought was a reasonable explanation, that he was meeting a plane from Australia and we didn’t sound at all like Americans and he had not specified US dollars in the negotiations, were a waste of time. The offered money was pushed back at me with contempt and words I didn’t understand but could have a good guess at. Eventually he stormed off and I went to join the others at the check-in desk inside the hotel with the money in my shirt pocket. A few minutes later he stormed back accompanied by (I think) the hotel Reception Manager. I explained what had transpired in detail and again offered the money that was again brushed aside. He was asked to leave and stormed off once more. The Manager shrugged his shoulders and went back to whatever he was doing. I was not aware until later that the driver had then gone to Phil and demanded his money. Thinking that I had already paid him Phil waved his hands and said, ‘No!’ This did not ease the situation and shortly he was back yelling at me again. Again I offered the money and in very clear English he asked if I expected him to give me a tip too, and held out a note. His ability to use quite clear English that I could now easily understand suddenly annoyed me and I said, ‘Thank you’, and reached for the note he was offering. It was withdrawn with the speed of light and the A$10 I was holding out snatched up at least as quickly. As he stormed off for the final time he threatened to kill Phil which I thought was very brave of him as Phil is not a small mountain of humanity. He seemed to think better of it when Phil turned and looked at him, leaving without any further word.

I am still puzzled by this confrontation, as it is quite un-typical of the people. In all our visits I don’t think any of us had seen anything like it.

The spacious and spectacular towering entrance lobby of the Sheraton returned to its normal calm and we relished the welcome drinks that were offered. The check in procedure was smooth and very pleasant, more so probably in comparison with our recent confrontation. Even the sack of dog food was calmly stored for future collection and an official receipt issued to me.
Regrettably we were all allocated rooms in different wings and on different floors of the hotel. The Sheraton is a quite large hotel and we were to get lost a few times going from one room to another, hindered by the lack of little number plaques and arrows that are common aids in other places.
Our room was supposed to be a ‘pool view’ room. It would be more accurate however to describe it as a ‘poolside’ room (as opposed to an ‘outside’ room I suppose). The only view of water was a small corner of the duck pond visible through a thinner area of the intervening screen of coconut palm fronds on one side of the balcony. ‘Poolside’ too, I guess, could be open to funny interpretations, as we were certainly not near the side of the pool, which was quite a trek away.

Our decision to have a swim before heading off to do some quick shopping for sustenance necessities lead to the discovery that the shower was only capable of dribbling straight down, almost against the wall at the end of the bath. A shower over the bath in a hotel of this class is not something I expect (but in fairness I must say that it was not something that either of the others endured in their rooms) and to have it so dangerously unusable was a nuisance. A quick call to housekeeping brought the promise of a plumber to attend to it and I had no sooner hung up from this call than I found that the in-room safe would not lock. Things were going from bad to worse. I was getting a little up tight as I made a second call to housekeeping. I had no sooner hung up from this call than Claire began to orbit at high speed looking for the two bottles of Chivas Regal scotch that she had bought Duty Free. And her new sunglasses were also missing!

The door chimed and the plumber materialised in a remarkably short time from the call for help. Claire disappeared back to the lobby to look for the wayward scotch and the plumber quickly declared the shower rose broken, promising to return shortly with a new one. To my utter surprise he was back in about three minutes with a replacement which he fitted in about the same time before calling me to inspect and approve the performance of the replacement. It truly was a transformation and I congratulated him on the efficiency and quality of his work. He confided that he had taken the replacement from the vacant room next door and would bring a proper one later in the afternoon. I was astonished!

As the plumber left another man with a small bag and a screwdriver arrived to fix the safe. Ah ha, I thought, this is more like Bali service. A screwdriver to fix a malfunctioning electronic safe that is, I hope, securely bolted to the floor with tamper-proof nuts. Again I am confounded as he quickly tries the locking process, nods, and prescribes new batteries which he has in his little bag! Well, I am silenced as he quickly unscrews the inner cover of the door, removes the small plastic battery holder, inserts four new AA batteries, replaces the door cover and demonstrates the success of his work. Less than five minutes again! I am left confused by feeling on the one hand that the hotel is falling apart and on the other hand applauding service that I would probably not get in a 5* hotel at home.

A quick trip to the lobby bay secures a double Chivas over lots of Ice and a splash of soda to ease Claire's anguish at her loss.
It helps only a little.

Given this level of attention to life;s problems things are looking up a bit and positively shine a little later when Nell turns up with the missing scotch.

We have a quick dip in the pool, to which everyone gives a big thumbs up although we think that the rooms at the Hilton which we had last year were larger and had a better layout.

By Taksi to the PT Money Changers at the Kodak shop opposite the Kin Khao Restaurant on Jl Dew Kartika. We used Pt Central changers exclusively throughout our stay and never faulted them. This Kodak shop was our most frequently used as it was conveniently located for us, but those at other shops and the main Department stores like Matahari and Ramayana were equally trustworthy. Our only complaint was the delay at busy times and the annoying frequency that Matahari’s, in particular, ran out of money. I think that this was sometimes when the girl just wanted a break, as nothing significant seemed to happen before the service started up again. The rate at the time was Rp4650 to one Aussie dollar. It varied at least once daily, from a low of Rp4550 to a high of Rp4700 as we were leaving to go home two weeks later.

From Kodak to TJ’s in Poppies Lane for dinner. As good as ever, two courses and three large cold Bintangs for Rp57,000 (A$12.26) on average for each of the six of us. Not the cheapest meal we would find in Bali but we didn’t expect it to be. We knew we would be satisfied with the quantity and quality. Sure enough, everyone is Happy as we stroll out into the cooling night air.
What a pity such good food and service is marred by toilets which I graded only 4/10.

Off to Matahari’s for the essential stocks; cheese, biscuits, mixer drinks etc, and then a Taksi back to the Sheraton, well satisfied with our short first day.

Coming with Garuda certainly beats arriving at midnight or after as we have done before on other carriers. It really adds a bonus half day to the holiday and you wake up fresh for the start of the first full day, not feeling as though you had celebrated a bit too much the night before.

We all gave it a big tick of approval!

3.10.00

From here you can go on to Day 2 by clicking this link. Day 2 tells of the pool, the beach and the first massage. Breakfast at the Galleria and flirtatious locals. Shopping prices, spectacles and Versace. The search for a white shirt and dinner prices in Bualu village.

If you would like to see more photos of Nusa Dua over Days 1 to 4 you can click this link.

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