Once again we  booked our accomodation in Bali after checking our baggage in at Flores airport, about 2.5 hours before we would walk through the front door. Pip’s toe was hurting after opening a door onto it last night so we found a villa in Seminyak, an area to the north of Legian and Kuta.

Arriving in Denpasar and getting a Grab to the villa we had the usual worries about whether the booking would be a good one, particularly as at £55 per night it was the most expensive place so far. We needn’t have worried, we got a large villa with outdoor kitchen and seating, private pool, lounge with sofas, huge four poster bed, a jacuzzi that fit 4 people, and a great shower and bathroom. Plus breakfast, a whole range of options you could choose daily and a free Grab trip every day.

Whenever we spend what seems a lot on accomodation we compare it to our last night in Nottingham. A cramped Ibis hotel room, that looked like a student halls of residence, for £48 (and that was cheap). Everything has been significantly better than that, even when only £15 a night.

First job was to visit a medical centre to get Pip’s big toe nail assessed and she was quickly told it had to be removed. Now she does not like needles and panics just thinking about how painful things might be, so I think it might be the first time ever that Google Translate has had to work with the sentence “please be gentle, I am a baby and very frightened”.

Fair play, a couple of local anaesthetic injections later, the process took just a couple of minutes before the big toenail had gone, the bandage was applied and antibiotics dished out, all of which meant we had a few dry days ahead in Bali. No pool, no sea, no jacuzzi, no alcohol.

My mum lived in Spain for over twenty years, and whenever we visited we would normally travel to Benidorm for a day or two for tapas in the old town, but mainly people watching.

Although Australian domination is not as complete in Legian and Kuta as the British in Benidorm, there are many similarities. T-shirt shops (with way more offensive slogans), souvenir shops, Aussie bars, Aussie and western restaurants and more tattoo shops than can possibly be needed unless it is about to become mandatory for everyone who visits to have one.

Kuta beach is significantly lower than it used to be as so much of the sand has been washed away, seemingly without any effort to stop this from the government according to the locals we met. It still offers some fantastic views at sunset though.

Apart from the constant taps on the horn from scooters, motorbike and cars, or taxis trying to grab your attention and a quick fare, the most common sound as you walk along is “massage, massage, you want massage?” Most of the time they don’t even look up before saying it, they just sense someone walking past while concentrating on their mobile phone.

There are often several massage places next to each other so it can feel like running the gauntlet because even though they have heard you say “no thanks” to 3 in a row the 4th one will still try with the same hope in their voice. We have had several massages while away as they are very relaxing and so cheap compared to the UK, even though my body seems to put up a fight to anyone trying to bend my limbs, much to the amusement of whoever picked the short straw and got me as their customer.

While undertaking an alcohol free evening due to Pip’s antibiotics we found an outdoor games centre but I am not sure their idea of mixing golf and snooker will ever catch on.

Next stop, Vietnam