Where in the World is Polly Allen?

The town was originally important as a source of medicinal herbs and plants; Ubud gets its name from the Balinese word ubad (medicine). – from Wikipedia entry for Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

It started with the flip flops. They were the first item of great personal worth that I’d lost on this trip so far, and I was very annoyed. Then I left my cell phone – also a prized possession – in Borneo. I was losing my touch! A week later I realized that in a space of a few days I’d lost:

• a plastic bag with about $40 worth of sunscreen & skin care products (fortunately returned)
• my mask & snorkel (left at a restaurant – also returned)
• my mask, again (lost of a dive trip, never found)
• my mesh bag used for dirty laundry
• my sunglasses

Something was definitely amiss – how had I managed to travel without atrophying goods for three and half months, only to fall to pieces so late in the game? It wasn’t just that I was losing things. An itchy rash around my eyes had developed while I was diving in Borneo, and despite all my best self-medication efforts, it was still around ten days later (tip: neither toothpaste nor tiger balm were good ideas.) I felt achy and tired and generally grumpy. I was spending too much time on facebook. But it wasn’t until I very nearly missed my flight to Bali, simply because I was careless about calculating how much time the airport shuttle bus would take, that I knew something had to be done.

Traveler’s fatigue: I’m sure most long-term travelers have experienced it. For most backpackers I’ve met, it seems to hit between the thee-to-four-month mark, so I was right on schedule. The grind of packing and unpacking your bag every day or every second day; of having to bargain for every item you need; of meeting new people, re-introducing and presenting your most-fun-smiling-self only to start building your social network all over again a few days later when you part company; it all starts to wear on you. I’m not expecting sympathy – it is part of the traveling experience, which I still love. But I had lost my traveling mojo.

I’d planned to rest up in the Perhentians, but spent most of my time there diving, so it was no surprise that I wasn’t ‘cured’ when I arrived in Bali. I enjoyed an extra day in Kuta, Bali’s throbbing nightlife pulse, just so I didn’t have to organize travel or pack my bag. But it wasn’t until I arrived in Ubud that I knew I’d found the place to really relax and rebuild. Ubud is a place meant for such things, and it crossed my path just when I needed it most.

Have you been to Saltspring Island market? Imagine that, but the size of a small village, built up on the ruins of ancient Hindu temples, overgrown with moss and flowers, and surrounded by rice paddies as far as the eye can see. This is Ubud – touristy but delightful. You can get crafts and batiks and paintings galore, and dine on raw food, vegan salads (real salads!) and mixed-juice health elixirs. Yes, it is the first time I have seen wheatgrass on a menu since leaving Victoria! Considering it has been practically impossible to find a salad in all the rest of southeast asia, I was quite impressed! It has all the crunchy-granola tree-huggy goodnesss of home, with an extra-mellow spiritual vibe and gorgeous serene scenery thrown in, all for a fraction of the price you’d pay at home.

I went to the medical clinic, and two days later, the cream they gave me had cleared up my eye rash nicely. A lovely ladyboy cut and dyed my hair, and I spent the rest of the day getting body massages, manicures, pedicures, the works. I stopped by the Yoga Barn, an old converted barn whose second-floor studio has huge wide open windows that let in the Bali breeze and let you gaze out over the ride fields as you contemplate your intention of this yoga practice. “Listen to your body”, our instructor says as I roll forward into a deep bend. I can hear my body clearly. It says, ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you’.