There are not many things in Bali that run smoothly. The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening fairly reliably, but that's about it. One of the un-smoothest of things is moving one's household from one place to another. Done while deathly ill with the flu is not recommended.
I had set the date and time for the move with one of my local friends, who did show up on time, but minus a truck. Given that I was moving four years worth of stuff first to my new place and then to Louis' villa, a motorbike was not going to work. Nor were two motorbikes. So the first task was to find a driver and a truck, just after the nick of time. That being accomplished, the driver surveyed the items to be moved and decided on a price of Rp. 300.000.
Having loaded my items (it would take two trips for both my things and Louis'), we headed for my new place in Sanur. On the bypass, I missed the proper turn, which entailed a slow return in heavy traffic, which in turn irritated the driver. He decided Rp. 400.000 would be more suitable for the trouble inflicted. Okay.
I had previously arranged with my friend and another friend who was helping carry the things for them to make the second trip to the second location on their own, given that I was feeling lousy with the flu and just wanted to go to sleep. Okay, no problem.
Except that it was. About an hour later I began to receive phone calls. The two friends had lost sight of each other during the second transport, could not find each other, and the friend riding with the driver in the truck did not know the phone number of the other friend who was, by that time, waiting at the villa. Unable to solve the problem, they began to call Louis instead. Not a pleasant scenario for any of us. Louis, by the way, is in Thailand, which, as she reminded me in a distinctly shrill phone call, was 'thousands of miles away'. The question as to why I couldn't seem to handle the simplest thing was posed.
Well, my two friends passed close enough in the night (for it was now night) to be reunited, and straightaway headed for the villa.
The driver decided, at this point, that Rp. 500.000 would be more appropriate for his trouble. The move was becoming rather more expensive than originally anticipated--which, actually, is something that one can count on in Bali.
Most people with MS will understand that under the stress of trouble and confusion, the MS brain will begin to slog to a halt. So it happened with mine at this point. I forgot how to speak Indonesian. Just staying upright was demanding enough.
But oh well. All's well that ends well. I'm in the new place today, feeling better than I have been for the past month or so, so will just take it from here, and try not to move again any time soon!
I had set the date and time for the move with one of my local friends, who did show up on time, but minus a truck. Given that I was moving four years worth of stuff first to my new place and then to Louis' villa, a motorbike was not going to work. Nor were two motorbikes. So the first task was to find a driver and a truck, just after the nick of time. That being accomplished, the driver surveyed the items to be moved and decided on a price of Rp. 300.000.
Having loaded my items (it would take two trips for both my things and Louis'), we headed for my new place in Sanur. On the bypass, I missed the proper turn, which entailed a slow return in heavy traffic, which in turn irritated the driver. He decided Rp. 400.000 would be more suitable for the trouble inflicted. Okay.
I had previously arranged with my friend and another friend who was helping carry the things for them to make the second trip to the second location on their own, given that I was feeling lousy with the flu and just wanted to go to sleep. Okay, no problem.
Except that it was. About an hour later I began to receive phone calls. The two friends had lost sight of each other during the second transport, could not find each other, and the friend riding with the driver in the truck did not know the phone number of the other friend who was, by that time, waiting at the villa. Unable to solve the problem, they began to call Louis instead. Not a pleasant scenario for any of us. Louis, by the way, is in Thailand, which, as she reminded me in a distinctly shrill phone call, was 'thousands of miles away'. The question as to why I couldn't seem to handle the simplest thing was posed.
Well, my two friends passed close enough in the night (for it was now night) to be reunited, and straightaway headed for the villa.
The driver decided, at this point, that Rp. 500.000 would be more appropriate for his trouble. The move was becoming rather more expensive than originally anticipated--which, actually, is something that one can count on in Bali.
Most people with MS will understand that under the stress of trouble and confusion, the MS brain will begin to slog to a halt. So it happened with mine at this point. I forgot how to speak Indonesian. Just staying upright was demanding enough.
But oh well. All's well that ends well. I'm in the new place today, feeling better than I have been for the past month or so, so will just take it from here, and try not to move again any time soon!
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