My trip to Bali was amazing. I spent long hours sitting by the pool drinking smoothies, eating noodles , reading trashy novels and floating in the water when it got too hot. However most of my time was spent people watching. People watching is one of my favourite things to do.
What I like to do is glance at people, look away, and look at them one lazy time. I have a feeling that it’s longer than a glance and ultimately I am at staring at strangers. And they know. They can feel my eyes boring into them and it makes them uncomfortable. Hey, I hate being stared at. Who doesn’t?
People watching in another country, a tourist destination nonetheless, is a whole other ball game.
Maybe it’s the accents. It always takes me ages to work accents out. Or maybe it’s because I like making up stories about where they are from and the secret live they have.
So my people watching obsession helped me notice a bearded, tattooed, huggable man who was larger than life.
This middle aged man was staying at the same resort as me and he was with his entire family and a lot of friends for his daughters wedding.
Normally I wouldn’t approach total strangers as I’m pretty shy and don’t like getting in people’s way so thankfully he approached my friend through one of his friends.
I learnt a little about his life, how he reconnected with his children after not seeing them for at least fifteen years due to family friction. I learnt that he is president of his bikie club and his house is always open to his other bikie members.
He also revealed that he had been sober for the last five and a half years, something he was very proud of.
But what was I most impressed with? Well, he and his club raise money for children. Children with cancer and other life threatening illnesses. The club also sponsors children who live in third world countries and all of the money is raised through charity.
You’re all probably wondering why I’m sharing this story. It has nothing to do with dreams coming true, right? Right.
This man, his family and friends all hired motorbikes while they were there. I didn’t think much of it until he asked if I wanted a ride.
I’ve always wanted to ride a motorbike. Well, have someone give me a ride because I doubt I could actually control a motorbike. But yes, ever since I was in my late teens I have wanted to try one.
Maybe it’s something about the wind in my hair or just the adrenalin rush. It could be the possibility of escaping the stresses of life.
Did I want a ride?
With his guidance I found myself on the back of his bike, me with my sunnies and helmet and him with his wet singlet and devil horns on his helmet. I held on tight as he revved up the bike and rode out of the driveway from the resort onto the streets of Nusa Dua. As he honked his horn at pedestrians and other motorists, I felt the wind blowing into my face and my hair was uncontrollable. Of course I was scared at first but I let the rush take over and I loved it.
I was free for 20 minutes. Nothing was on mind except the view and the excitement from the rush.