We seem determined to live our lives at a thousand miles an hour, each day a constant rush to get ahead, simply to buy more shit we dont really need.
Stuck on the we find ourselves trapped in the kind of jobs needed to somehow eek out enough to afford a house, the cost of which is, of course, astronomical. Whats more, in some insanity, the fortunate few are pressured to borrow way above their means for a home much grander than they actually deserve, forking out yet more in loans for fancy cars to park in the driveway.
The truly delusional then end up hiring staff, realising theyre way too knackered working overtime to be bothered with cleaning, gardening, or walking the dog. The sparkling fully equipped kitchen so rashly purchased is rarely touched, as it was replaced by the far quicker, easier, and, lets face it, tastier option of going online to order
It cant have always been like this. Legend has it way back in the 60s they could pick up a new home for First home buyers could save the cost of an enormous TV and simply go on genuine nights out at the movies, where there may even still have been some decent films, barely a superhero flick in sight.
For many, the only rationale for this behaviour is the need to impress a mate. Its a case of How to Save a Marriage and Ruin your Life. Marriage in itself doesnt have to be a prison, of course, but so many of us seem to marrying prison guards. And then for the shortly thereafter The Parent Trap. Ive always regarded ‘having kids as a bit of a misnomer, as the truth is, of course, that the kids have you, right by the short and curlies for a good twenty years, which, lets face it, is actually longer than your average life sentence.
Holidays themselves are a curious thing. Like diets, while they might at first sound a good idea, really theyre just another way to set yourself up for failure. Sure, you may dream of relaxation and untold luxury, or escaping to the adventures of The Lost World, but lets face it, after only a few days straight back to The Rat Race and whatever it was that made you want to get away from it all in the first place. Its as if the cast from the epic 60s classic, The Great Escape, forged documents and risked life and limb tunnelling out of Stalag Luft III just to spend a fortnight having a frightfully lovely time frolicking in the Alps, in scenes more like The Sound of Music, before tunnelling their way straight back in again to mull over their holiday snaps. Perhaps this is what separates the typical holidaymaker from the hardcore traveller. At first glance they may look similar, but in truth the traveller is not just looking for a quick recharge of the batteries; somewhere, deep down in his
To some Bali might sound fantastically exotic, but for Australians its a pretty routine hop much like Europeans popping off to Spain or Greece, or Americans heading down to Florida.
For Australians it has long a holiday clich, its reputation tarnished by mass tourism and a disdain for the kind of Aussies who tend to go there. And in some ways its well deserved, too. The last few decades have seen an explosion of development which has little to it other than sparkling infinity pools and cheap cocktails. In fact, in many resorts close to the airport, other than drinks and cheap massages theres little to distinguish it from staying at home. Avoid this southern area, though, and youll find there are still plenty of great little genuine hidden gems to choose from.
witching hour, wed need to brave it round these parts for at least a night. So Id hopped on the net and booked a spot at Hermanns place in Jimbaran Bay, a quick from where wed land. Really it was just a cheap to stumble into for the night, the only essential being a reception.
It was surprise then, on rocking up after A Hard Days Night, to find a nice cosy friendly looking little place peeking out behind a very high and firmly locked gate.
