Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Paintings part 2
We headed straight down to the South coast of Lombok and didn't arrive until after dark. Kym and I had been before so new the lay out and had made great friends with a local couple, Linda and Adi and their two little un's, Radit and Olea; so first stop was Linda's house. House needs a little clarification, it's actually a bamboo hut with two rooms one of which is Linda's sarong shop and the other the bedroom/kitchen. We certainly weren't expecting the welcome we received! We pulled up outside and Kym opened her door and was immediately spotted by Linda who leapt to her feet and ran over shouting Kym kym kym before throwing her arms around her! After promising to be back in the morning we checked Mum into a backpackers/hotel right on the beach and very kindly accepted the offer a room for ourselves. The next couple of days blurred into excursions, beers by the pool and catching up with old friends Bill and Gail who were on Lombok last year and who have given us tonnes of information on the Northern Territories, thankyou) and meeting new ones one of which lives in the village that Kym grew up in, Burlescombe! This idyllic mini holiday was abruptly disrupted 4 nights in by a text from Mum's friend at the villa on Bali saying that the police had been to the villa looking for Gary and the air hostess!!!
Yep, I know, Kym and I asked exactly the same question.. How did they know where the villa was? Turns out that all the women were complicit in their silence when I had said that the artist has no addresses. The air hostess had in fact given him the villa's address to bring the money to. Balls. Well what the hell. Through a number of texts it appears the police have no information other than mine and Mum's friends name and the owner of the villa told them we were only friends of friends and that we had left. They didn't know anything about the car and had no idea where we were. The only shitty bit was that Mum's friend told her that she wasn't welcome back at the villa!! The following day we all agreed it was probably best if Kym flew back to Bali with Mum just for moral support. So for the first time in a very long time I found myself alone in bed on Lombok.
Hysteria is how best to describe the reaction of Mum's friend. Storm in a tea cup and all that really. The artist had obviously given a much slimmed down version of the truth to the police and when told they quickly lost interest. This didn't stop the friend telling Mum that they were checking borders and the airport (for what exactly? Some bloke called Gary?). Mum wrote a letter to the villa owner explaining that neither Kym nor I had any idea that they had told the guy the address and that they should have spoken up and he graciously accepted this and that was the end of that, until a week later (now 3 weeks after the event) when I got a text from the artist saying "dear Mr Gary where can we meet for me to take back my 5 paintings?" I replied "hang on I'll fly from Sumbawa tomorrow and get them DHL'd from London and meet you at your shop in two days".. Yeah right!
Yep, I know, Kym and I asked exactly the same question.. How did they know where the villa was? Turns out that all the women were complicit in their silence when I had said that the artist has no addresses. The air hostess had in fact given him the villa's address to bring the money to. Balls. Well what the hell. Through a number of texts it appears the police have no information other than mine and Mum's friends name and the owner of the villa told them we were only friends of friends and that we had left. They didn't know anything about the car and had no idea where we were. The only shitty bit was that Mum's friend told her that she wasn't welcome back at the villa!! The following day we all agreed it was probably best if Kym flew back to Bali with Mum just for moral support. So for the first time in a very long time I found myself alone in bed on Lombok.
Hysteria is how best to describe the reaction of Mum's friend. Storm in a tea cup and all that really. The artist had obviously given a much slimmed down version of the truth to the police and when told they quickly lost interest. This didn't stop the friend telling Mum that they were checking borders and the airport (for what exactly? Some bloke called Gary?). Mum wrote a letter to the villa owner explaining that neither Kym nor I had any idea that they had told the guy the address and that they should have spoken up and he graciously accepted this and that was the end of that, until a week later (now 3 weeks after the event) when I got a text from the artist saying "dear Mr Gary where can we meet for me to take back my 5 paintings?" I replied "hang on I'll fly from Sumbawa tomorrow and get them DHL'd from London and meet you at your shop in two days".. Yeah right!
Saturday, 20 March 2010
Paintings!
After 5 or 6 days Mum's best friend found herself in a bit of pickle. She'd commissioned a painting from a bloke after seeing one of his paintings that was way too big for her house. She'd negotiated a price she was happy with and agreed a new size for the picture. 3 days later on return to the shop she paid the balance and took the picture (all ready rolled) back to the villa where upon measuring it discovered it was exactly the same size as the original (which had mysteriously vanished from the wall of the shop). The next day the artist himself was very apologetic but when Mum's friend said that she had no longer enough time to wait for a new painting and could she kindly have her money back and draw a line under it, he said no. Funny that. Actually that's not strictly true, he said he didn't have the money but he would tomorrow. Mum's friend returned tomorrow and surprise surprise he wasn't there and after a phone conversation confessed he still didn't have the money. At this point the story was told to Kym and I and after asking if she'd been to the tourist police ,not yet, I popped down and saw them. They said that if he hadn't paid after a further visit from me, they would go with Mum's friend the following day. I should have left at that really but whilst at the shop I said to his staff (he still hadn't made an appearance back at the shop) that if he hadn't returned the money to either me or her by telephoning either of us and arranging to meet, that the following morning I would come back to the shop and take 5 paintings.
The next day I went to the shop and after a brief telephone conversation with him in which he asked me not to take the paintings but also that he still had no money, I took 5 paintings. He had 3 contact numbers. Later at the villa sat around the table with all Mum's friends and the owner of the villa I explained what I had done and only the owner had some reservations in that he lived there and didn't want any trouble. Fair point, but I explained to him that the artist had no way of knowing where he lived and that I had walked to and from the shop so they had not seen our car and they didn't know where I lived, not only that but the artist had in fact never seen me! Remember that bit. The days went by, the women, as is their wont, shopped some more ate at some restaurants they didn't like and ate at some they did (One they all liked was a seafood restaurant on the beach at Jimbaran with fish about as fresh as it gets, a sunset spread with a mixture of everything went down a treat until Mum was persuaded to pose by the tank with the live crabs in and point at them for a photograph, the brother of the one they had just eaten saw his opportunity and leapt at Mum's finger clamping it in his claw causing Mum to scream and flail her arm about successfully removing the crab but not it's arm which remained on Mums bloody finger. The restaurant let her take the claw home for free. I promise you I couldn't make this up!!!). With only a day to go there was still no news from the artist so it was decided that the paintings would return to the UK with Mum's friend. Fair enough.
Air hostesses back where they toil (don't know if I mentioned, two of the three of Mum's friend are stewardesses) Mum was left with one friend who stayed at the villa while Mum elected to have a mini adventure and hop in the car with us to Lombok. No two ways about it Mum was excited. Until she saw the ferry. To say Indonesian ferries have a poor reputation would be somewhat of an understatement and all the ones we've ever been on have done nothing to alay this fact, this one was again no exception. In it's defence it sat upright in the water and left on time. Comfort, I'm not sure if there is a word for comfort in Bahasa Indonesia. Wooden benches, and remember those metal framed chairs covered with a kind of crocheted plastic string that pinched bare legs and were everywhere in the 80's? Well they're now chained to the decks of Pelni ferries. But it was only 4 1/2 hours so no real drama, and judging by the noises Mum was making whilst flat on her back, the benches couldn't have been that bad!
The next day I went to the shop and after a brief telephone conversation with him in which he asked me not to take the paintings but also that he still had no money, I took 5 paintings. He had 3 contact numbers. Later at the villa sat around the table with all Mum's friends and the owner of the villa I explained what I had done and only the owner had some reservations in that he lived there and didn't want any trouble. Fair point, but I explained to him that the artist had no way of knowing where he lived and that I had walked to and from the shop so they had not seen our car and they didn't know where I lived, not only that but the artist had in fact never seen me! Remember that bit. The days went by, the women, as is their wont, shopped some more ate at some restaurants they didn't like and ate at some they did (One they all liked was a seafood restaurant on the beach at Jimbaran with fish about as fresh as it gets, a sunset spread with a mixture of everything went down a treat until Mum was persuaded to pose by the tank with the live crabs in and point at them for a photograph, the brother of the one they had just eaten saw his opportunity and leapt at Mum's finger clamping it in his claw causing Mum to scream and flail her arm about successfully removing the crab but not it's arm which remained on Mums bloody finger. The restaurant let her take the claw home for free. I promise you I couldn't make this up!!!). With only a day to go there was still no news from the artist so it was decided that the paintings would return to the UK with Mum's friend. Fair enough.
Air hostesses back where they toil (don't know if I mentioned, two of the three of Mum's friend are stewardesses) Mum was left with one friend who stayed at the villa while Mum elected to have a mini adventure and hop in the car with us to Lombok. No two ways about it Mum was excited. Until she saw the ferry. To say Indonesian ferries have a poor reputation would be somewhat of an understatement and all the ones we've ever been on have done nothing to alay this fact, this one was again no exception. In it's defence it sat upright in the water and left on time. Comfort, I'm not sure if there is a word for comfort in Bahasa Indonesia. Wooden benches, and remember those metal framed chairs covered with a kind of crocheted plastic string that pinched bare legs and were everywhere in the 80's? Well they're now chained to the decks of Pelni ferries. But it was only 4 1/2 hours so no real drama, and judging by the noises Mum was making whilst flat on her back, the benches couldn't have been that bad!
Hello again!
Oh my goodness, where were we, where are we, what have we done! I'm typing this sat in a converted container in a yard that with no modifications needed could be used in "Mad Max 4" (beyond the UN Enclave). The newest country in the world is where I'm sat. Timor Leste or to us Brits plain old East Timor, and what a place but more on that later.
I promised tales of larceny, misinformation and stewardesses and now I shall explain.
The last true update saw the final few days of Julian and the future arrival of Mum. Julians last few days were great and I know he would have loved to stay longer but it was not only his wife and children twanging his emotional strings (he wished they were with him) but being bestman at his brothers wedding the day after landing. Something he couldn't really avoid, though after his speach I wonder if he would have been happier to miss the plane. I'll leave the telling of that one to Julian for those who know him and for those who don't it'd only make you cringe. So he was gone and Mum and one of her best mates plus two others all arrived. One of the others has a friend who has a villa on Bali and believe me when I say this villa is luxurious. It comes as no suprise I'm sure, that they decided to stay there instead of our lovely little house (with no aircon, pool, en-suite, bar, wi-fi and staff). As is a womans wont on holiday they shopped, then they shopped, then they shopped a bit. In the small spaces between shopping we got to see them. Some wanted our help with local knowledge, language and logistics, others didn't.
I promised tales of larceny, misinformation and stewardesses and now I shall explain.
The last true update saw the final few days of Julian and the future arrival of Mum. Julians last few days were great and I know he would have loved to stay longer but it was not only his wife and children twanging his emotional strings (he wished they were with him) but being bestman at his brothers wedding the day after landing. Something he couldn't really avoid, though after his speach I wonder if he would have been happier to miss the plane. I'll leave the telling of that one to Julian for those who know him and for those who don't it'd only make you cringe. So he was gone and Mum and one of her best mates plus two others all arrived. One of the others has a friend who has a villa on Bali and believe me when I say this villa is luxurious. It comes as no suprise I'm sure, that they decided to stay there instead of our lovely little house (with no aircon, pool, en-suite, bar, wi-fi and staff). As is a womans wont on holiday they shopped, then they shopped, then they shopped a bit. In the small spaces between shopping we got to see them. Some wanted our help with local knowledge, language and logistics, others didn't.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Fear not....
We're still here and still moving. On a bit of a schedule now as the boat for Australia leaves Timor on 16th March and we're still on Flores at the moment (having hopped from Bali to Lombok to Sumbawa to here. Also picked up two Brit's on a motorbike that are on the same trip as us and left UK only 12 days after us!
Hopefuly will have a bit of time and internet access on Timor to do a pretty interesting update of the last few weeks including amazing surf stories, old acquaintances, international art theft, becoming unwitting fugitives, millionaires villas and dodgy air hostess's.
Keep watching..... love ya.
Hopefuly will have a bit of time and internet access on Timor to do a pretty interesting update of the last few weeks including amazing surf stories, old acquaintances, international art theft, becoming unwitting fugitives, millionaires villas and dodgy air hostess's.
Keep watching..... love ya.
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