Ubud, Bali, Indonesia;
Last night at the closing of the Ubud Village Jazz Festival I’d had a blast; admittedly I’d drank far too much (mixing my drinks never serves me well) and hadn’t got much sleep, but I’d had a blast and wouldn’t have changed it for the world. However, today was pretty much a complete write off and I struggled to connect brain to mouth and brain to many other things too.
The jazz festival had been held in the grounds of ARMA (Agung Rai Museum of Art), and the setting couldn’t have been more perfect. I’d had a brief opportunity to look around the grounds and what I found when I did was pure beauty – stone statues and monuments enshrouded and covered in greenery and nature; fountains and sculptures; perfect little Balinese style villas which served as accommodation for visiting guests or tourists, and wonderful luscious colours, sounds and smells – it was peaceful, tranquil and idyllic. I’d planned to return to ARMA that day to check out the actual museum but my hungover detachment from real-life made it a struggle to do anything, so I settled on lunch with San Fran and Cisco instead.
Meeting up at a cafe called The Seeds of Life, I felt pangs of nostalgia as I walked through the doors – this cafe had been the site of my very first breakfast in Bali, back in June 2015. Without realising it, I’d agreed to meet my new friends in the place where my Balinese (and my Ubud) adventure had started two years ago. It was fantastic being back there, eating the most tasty organic, raw food, and the memories came flooding back – I recalled just how at ease I had been with myself on that trip; how I had been in love with life and travel and relationships and nature; how I’d felt confident in my convictions and how I’d had the world at my feet. And despite being hungover on this sunny Sunday, I cherished those memories and channeled them into my present state of mind.
For what it was worth, San Fran couldn’t tell I was hanging out of my arse; she said I looked radiant and was glowing with happiness and that the previous night’s events had obviously had a dramatic affect on my wellbeing. And they had, for when she took a candid photo of me and presented it to me on her phone, I could definitely see the difference in my aura.
I don’t think it was just the jazz festival that had set my spirit free though, I think it was the connections I’d made while there. In fact, being in Ubud itself, doing yoga, talking with my healer, D, and channeling my emotions in several different ways had altered my frame of mind. I felt happy in Ubud – happier than I’d been in a long time – and even though I felt as if I could sleep for a year, I dragged myself to a sunset yoga class (struggled through it) and finished the day on a relaxed and natural high. The weekend had been everything I had needed, the people had been everything I’d wanted, the backdrop had been better than I could’ve dreamed; and I was excited for what the coming week would bring.
Chasing Amy-Lou 