Or the time the co-working place Hubud lent us an umbrella.
Rain. I love tropical rain, especially when you’re at the beach and it’s 34 degrees Celsius and you have a means of getting back to the hotel fairly painlessly.
This Balinese rain is something completely different. It’s like the heavens have decided to throw buckets of water at us at a rate of 20 buckets/second, with no letting up. Yes, it’s warm but we found out the hard way that the local Ubud cabbies don’t venture out in the rain past 8 pm. Try to Google “Uber Ubud” to no avail (meh). In any case, locals hate Ubers, grabs, and any other apps killing their small businesses. But that is another story.
I. The day we had enough of the tropical rain!
We were at the co-working space Hubud (in Ubud)when it started. I, tapping into my infinite reserves of inquisition, questioned whether it was raining. My partner’s response: “Nah”. I thought that the incessant rattling of the rafters was the sound of the fans. But, yes, it was pissing down. Again. I’ll never complain about the rain in London again.
To explain, the tropical rain in Indonesia rarely last longer than an hour. Meanwhile, when it rains, it is a torrent of rain! Invading the streets! Transforming the numerous stairs of the Balinese houses you will encounter, in tropical waterfalls! Also carrying Indonesian rubbish with no mercy, to the roads, and rivers who run straight to the sea. If you moan about your partner being lazy to clean the garden; that rain is the solution.
II. But what to do with tropical rain?!?
Indeed, no one will carry an umbrella with that sunny 31 degrees it was, 23 minutes ago! If you get caught, you better relax and grab a tea-coffee somewhere. Wait for it to go.
OR! I hope you still have the What’s App of that Balinese driver, who live on the side of your AirB&B residence or hotel! No? Then you will end up wondering under the rain, like us, outside…
Finally truly had to venture out into the river-that-was-once-a-street to hunt for a taxi. Nope, no hint of a taxi on JL. Hanoman. A lot of scooters sloshing and spraying water everywhere but no taxi. My boyfriend traipsed back to Hubud, looking like a shaggy wet dog to find me, nice and dry inside casually talking to one of the Hub workers. On seeing my boyfriend’s dishevelled, wet, beard, Ms Hubud kindly loaned us an umbrella. And finally, we started making our way to the apartment (a 30-minute walk).
Luckily, my Balinese superpower seems to be sniffing out taxi drivers (steady) so, before we knew it, we were in a freezing cold cab on our way back “home”. The cabbie, whose name I didn’t ask, said that it was “the wrong time of year to visit Bali”. On this evening’s evidence, there is fear, fear that, he may be…right?
Oh, and Hubud is ok. Decent place to work, if you want your legs to be bitten raw by mosquitoes (they did provide repellent but it looks like the little shits are immune to all brands of the stuff).
Meanwhile, I recommend Outpost in Ubud. As many activities, but more spacious, fewer mosquitoes, and an amazing pool!
Let’s see what tomorrow has in store for us…
2 months later…
To avoid the tourist season, we spent 2 months at the raining season in Bali. Even if it was not the best season, it was still more tourists than expected. November and December are much better at 28 degrees on the sun! Also, even if it was the raining season, we did absolutely everything we wanted to do. Spending Xmas in Bali was one of the best experience.
Even if it was the raining season, it was 13 times less often rain than in London! Less often, but stronger.
Meanwhile, what have been the time you had enough of the rain? Share your story in the comment below!
And if you liked this post, you will like “The shadow behind bali’s temple” and “What does a career burnout feel like?”
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