Travel and Day 1

I was so fortunate that a colleague and her husband happened to be flying to the same place on the same day. Not only did I get to enjoy their VIP airport transportation service (see traffic in Istanbul in previous posting) but Moira saved my bacon by giving (a) knowing there was a visa fee to be paid in cash at Immigration in US dollars and (b) loaning me the requisite $25 US. This prevented a situation upon arrival which would have made me unhappy (see crankiness in previous posting).

In case your geography is imperfect, Bali is nowhere near Istanbul. Door to door, this trip took over 19 hours, 13 of which were spent in the air. The rest was ground transportation, layover, security and immigration. But here I am at last. A charming driver from the Yoga Barn picked me up and brought me to my hotel - about an hour and a quarter's trip.

Gorgeous statue just outside the airport

Hindu goddess of holding your breath for a long time.

My hotel is a small, family-run affair, and myk room is very basic, but it's clean and there's a tub. I don't have a bath in Istanbul, so this is a special treat. I didn't sleep on the plane, despite half a Stillnox. It's quite hot and humid, but despite the languorous atmosphere, my goal is to stay awake until 8. I must not nap. No yoga, though. I'm so tired that I'm a littly woozy, and falling down would be a bad thing (see Background).

Shrine in my hotel's garden

Enormous fruit, maybe Jackfruit or Durian. 

I had dinner at the Dirty Duck, a beautiful restaurant that back onto a rice paddy. This gorgeous floating floral arrangement greeted me at the door.

Their specialty is crispy duck, so I had that. The sauces are, from left to right, lemongrass, lime and chili, a mild Sambal, and Oh-my-God-These-People-are-Trying-to-Kill-Me chili mixture.

The view from the Dirty Duck

The fuscia flora is not a flower - try saying that fast ten times - but the leaves of a plant.

Now it is after 8, so I can go back to my hotel and sleep.

The Background

It is no secret that Istanbul has not been a good fit for me. I have lived in big cities before, but never one where transportation was so difficult. Robert College is in a beautiful, peaceful forest and because getting around outside the bubble is so challenging, I don’t often go out. The conflict this sets up inside me – living in one of the world’s great cities and rarely seeing it – makes me cranky. I feel like a living, breathing missed opportunity.

I mention this because by mid-September, having only been back at work for a month, I knew I had to do something about my attitude and mental health. I booked a trip to Prague for Paige and me over Christmas, and I arranged an experience in Bali for myself during our mid-winter break. Traveling alone is a mixed blessing. There is no other person to adapt to, but there is also no other person to share with. I decided to enroll in a series of yoga classes in order to have some sort of focus and structure for my day to combat loneliness and of course accrue a ton of health benefits.

We have a wonderful yoga teacher at RC, and I signed up for ten of her classes to get ready. The day after my first class, I slipped going down a slightly slimy hill on campus and cracked a bone in my hand. I couldn’t put any weight on it for two months. Goodbye yoga. Then shortly after I thought to myself that the hand was ready for downward dog, I tripped over a rolled up carpet while carrying an armload of towels and landed with all my weight on my left shoulder. Broke the bugger and couldn't raise my arm more than five degrees for weeks.

I've been going to physio, and very good about my exercise regime, but my range of motion is not perfect and I leave tomorrow. How will I manage, I wonder…