And so, the days have come to an end and I will be packing tomorrow leaving this island I so love. Time flies. And everytime this happens my heart dampens with wonder how soon will I be getting back here. That is the reason I return the islands time and again without must thoughts.
Someone said he wanted to do some ‘scrub’ and ‘scrub’ we went. It was dejavu nevertheless where how things can get pretty messy and uncomfortable. So I opted for some neck and shoulder along with another hour of foot. To fill up some time actually.
They had us into the room. Then they asked Eugene to change into some black disposal underwear (because he was the one interested in the scrub). I was laughing hyenas already. Then Eugene was mumbling that speaking with the head facing through the massage table hole gets one smelling over one’s own bad breath.
Someone said he wanted to do some ‘scrub’ and ‘scrub’ we went. It was dejavu nevertheless where how things can get pretty messy and uncomfortable. So I opted for some neck and shoulder along with another hour of foot. To fill up some time actually.
They had us into the room. Then they asked Eugene to change into some black disposal underwear (because he was the one interested in the scrub). I was laughing hyenas already. Then Eugene was mumbling that speaking with the head facing through the massage table hole gets one smelling over one’s own bad breath.
LOL.
Haha... I could then hear the shuffling and tugging of hands working on the body so I let it be for a little while. Then, it stopped, of which I took a peek and saw some gooey stuff was left on the body to ‘dry.’ I guess. It was a LONG session of drying up alright, so much so that the messagee (the person who was messaged) was asking me if they have forgotten about him. LOL.
After the LONG while, the massauer headed back to scrub off the paste and had this yucky sour smelling pig’s yogurt slaundered onto the body instead and then again, left to dry.
I was laughing without much control at this point. I just can't help it. I was in the opinion that it was more like being left to marinate while wrapped up with a piece of already soak with what-ever-slimy stuff batik clothes. Argh!
Haha... the sour scent was fermenting the air. My thoughts got even grossier (is there such a word?) when I learnt it to be pig’s milk.
I was laughing without much control at this point. I just can't help it. I was in the opinion that it was more like being left to marinate while wrapped up with a piece of already soak with what-ever-slimy stuff batik clothes. Argh!
Haha... the sour scent was fermenting the air. My thoughts got even grossier (is there such a word?) when I learnt it to be pig’s milk.
LOL.
I was hysterical at the point when I witness the session of drying up. So much so that I can’t stop gigling which I believe the massuer must be thinking she caught some funny bone she never knew.
So much for 'scrub' in a Balinese spa...LOL.
Anyway, we have failed miserably this time around in getting sufficient bakso. Fail. Fail. Putting up in Nusa Dua isn’t the best place to have Bakso in abundance. Darn. We went to extend with hailing a cab and driving around the area in a hot afternoon, looking for a Bakso stall. People may wonder. Is Bakso that delicious after all? Or actually these 2 kiamsiap tourists are that of a miser that they refuse luxurious yet expensive hotel dishes?
ohhh, whatever. This tummy needs 'real' food I say!
Eating in Bali has been a pleasure for me. I can’t express the magnitude of delirious experience savouring its Nasi Jingo, Nasi Campur, Soto Ayam and what ever else Balinese has to offer. Along with Teh Sosro. Sigh.
The last sigh, signing off from Bali.
