Englishman in Bandung

By Vodkaman

His royal redness

Robert Redford was not available for a blip today, so I decided to substitute for him. Not the SP that I was planning, but the boat race isn't that much more appealing even at it's best. Do not adjust the color settings of your computers, this is it, full reality.

Feeling a lot better today, the leg is not hurting, but I expect that to change when the blister pops and I can actually move my facial muscles without pain. Read on for a full explanation.

The fishing trip - part 3.

At the third location, it was about 1 o'clock and Chacha was starting to feel puckish and brought up the subject of makan (food). He was probably expecting me to produce a smorgasbord of culinary delights from my two hundredweight bag, as he obviously was not carrying any food. It actually gave me great pleasure to say, "maaf, tidak ada" (sorry, not have). He mimed me to stay here and returned fifteen minutes later with a purchased smorgasbord for us both, from the kampung, wrapped in greaseproof brown paper and the obligatory black plastic bag, to be consumed with your right hand. Delicious.

After the fourth and fifth locations and still no sign of a fish, Chacha suggested 5 o'clock for our departure and I was in full agreement. My leg had stopped complaining but was looking very ugly and I was not looking forward to washing off the mud from the area. My back was now constantly aching and I could not get comfortable and my face was starting to feel a bit prickly. I was not looking forward to another 50Km death ride, but the thought of my bed beckoning to me was overwhelming.

You probably are wondering why I didn't dangle my poorly leg in the lake, to get rid of the mud and provide cool relief. Like I briefly mentioned earlier, the lake is covered with floating villages of fish farms, where people actually live, there is even a floating mosque. They don't have plumbing installed in these villages. When they want to go to the toilet, they simply hang ass over the side, I saw this on a previous trip to the lake. Certainly the lake is well big enough to cope with the human pollution, after all, everything else that lives on or in the lake has to crap at some time.

5 o'clock came and we packed, fishless and set off for home. I requested that Chacha take it easy on the return leg, which he thankfully did, but the Indonesian roads are like the running of the bulls at Pamplona at tea time and I was most grateful to arrive home in one piece.

I was not aware of how bad my face was, although it was starting to feel like I had endured a chemical peel with sulfuric acid. I parked the bike, unloaded the five hundredweight bag and stumbled next door to see Beni and Lili. Their eyes opened wide in shock and horror. They brought me a mirror and my eyes too, opened in shock and horror. So, obviously the cream thing WAS a bad decision in hind sight, well, you probably knew that two pages ago.

I explained in mime the trials and tribulations of the day and once again I had them all falling about laughing. Lili's Mom buried her teary face on her arm on the counter, her shoulders still moving up and down. I scolded her for laughing at me, "This is not funny", but she just laughed louder. I guess I am good at miming stories.


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