Travel Puzzle

At the time I was suffering from a severely broken heart. I had no idea who Liz Gilbert was, so tripstering to Bali seemed a pretty original therapy idea: the long journey and learning how to surf were supposed to put the broken pieces of my heart together. So there I was: exploring what the dirty Double Six beach had to offer, injuring myself with a surfboard (the instructor’s infernal scream “PADDLE!” stuck in my ears), and raving with transvestites at world famous Kuta parties.

The first week went by, and the exhausting scratching (I could say surfing, but that would be a lie), constantly wet clothes, hectic motorbiking and partying all night long got me a splendid sore throat, which was practically killing me together with fever, muscle cramps and that bleeding heart.

That night I dined al fresco in one of the Legian Beach cafes. It was hot and humid, but I was shaking with fever, miserable and sick. I’d already paid and was ready to leave when an old lady approached me and invited to sit a little more. She stood tall in a long white skirt, her beautiful grey hair perfectly combed in a bob.

“You look so bad!” she said. (This comment is so not-Bali-like—I must look terrible, I thought.)

“Oh.” I tried to squeeze out something vaguely like a smile.

“You don’t feel well. Something hurts? Is it your throat?” I was taken aback by her intuition, soothing voice and kind, watery eyes. “I own this place and I want to cure you. Just no dancing tonight. Go and get some good sleep.” She turned and went back inside without waiting for a reply. Five minutes later she returned with a small white teapot which she placed, steaming, in front of me. The captivating Gandalf-lady said, “It is garlic, ginger and lime. Tomorrow you’ll be fine. But go sleep now.” And again, without waiting for a reply, she started walking away.

I was wheezing, “Thank you, Terima Kasih, Matur Suksma,” until she disappeared through the curtains on the far side of the cafe. At the start of this adventure I promised myself I’d be a “Yes Woman”. So as “No” was forbidden, I drank my hot and smelly garlic nectar and went home.

Next morning I was healthy and peppy. Pouring tropical rain gave me a break from paddling, so I went for a two-dollars manicure and pedicure. My throat was healed by garlic, ginger and lime—and my heart by the unexpected kindness of a stranger.