I'm getting to know the locals a little bit and I see the same faces at breakfast every morning. The guy who runs Stiff Chilli knows me by name now and refers to himself as Johnny Be Good...this always makes me smile when I go in there for a coffee or a light bite at lunch. The other day I was in there and one of the waiters was chasing a baby squirrel around the place. It was running between people's feet, squeaking and jumping around tables while people were trying to eat. The waiter cornered it and picked it up and took him discreetly out back, although I hope he just set the poor little thing free and didn't hand it to the chef in the kitchen.
I went to dinner at a restaurant called the Piccadilly the other evening. The restaurant sign is designed to look like the London Underground logo and they serve gammon, egg and chips. They even had this old telephone box in the middle of the room:
There was an acoustic duo playing cover songs by artists like Coldplay, Bob Marley and The Beatles. I was dancing in my seat and singing along. The lead singer could see that I was enjoying myself so he asked where I was from. I told him that I was from London and so he said he'd play one last song for me, what would I like? Being put on the spot in front of the whole restaurant, I couldn't think of anything so I told him to play what he wanted. He chose "Angels" by Robbie Williams. He lost me then. I was not impressed. Anyone who knows my taste in music, knows that I loathe that song, he couldn't have picked a worse song to play me. And so, unfortunately for them, the band lost my smile. But I didn't have the heart to be an arsehole about it so I clapped and said "thank you" when it was over.
In other news, they've moved me to a different room at my hotel. I'm not really sure why but it's bigger, has a power shower and a balcony. I still have a shite view of the building work going on out back but this little place feels like mine. It didn't have a towel rack like my other room (I wash my clothes in the sink and hang them up in my room) so imagine me trying to explain for fifteen minutes what a towel rack was. All the English-speaking staff had gone home and it resulted in me miming getting out the shower and hanging a towel up to five Indonesian employees - all completely blank and wondering what the hell I was doing. In the end, one of them understood the alternative word 'hanger' and I finally got my rack.
And if you're wondering what Keith's been up to, well, he's a little annoyed that I don't take him out much but he enjoys it when I take him to the beach when it's quiet:
Last night I went to Antida, the garden bar in Denpasar, the same place I went to last weekend. Although this time, no cake in my hair. It was a blues night so it was far more tame. I didn't get to dance, but I swayed side to side, as you do when listening to blues music. There was a lot less beer this time but plenty of rain and some awful hotdogs that we bought at the food stand. This is what Loïc and I thought if them:
We quickly downed some Carlsberg to get the nasty taste out of our mouths and soon cheered up...
Loïc's UK friend, Kat joined us for an hour or two. Turns out she lives in Clapham, my neck of the woods. She heads home on Saturday and said she has some PG Tips she can give me...happy days!!! I haven't had a lovely cup of PG Tips since I was back in The Big Smoke.
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