Company

On my last international holiday I was accompanied by Admiral Ackbar, who, as you'll recall, shamelessly hogged the camera.


This time I left the Admiral at home, and opted for the only companion I could find with any sort of Asian sensibility.





As you can see, there was also a stowaway. No wonder the Sumo is grumpy.


I'm staying at a very nice and comparatively expensive resort. I say "comparatively" because for the same price in Australia I'd be stuck in a mouldy box at a motel on a major highway in a bad neighbourhood, but in Bali I have a beautiful room with french doors leading onto a balcony overlooking gardens and a swimming pool. The resort is in Seminyak, one of the more upmarket areas of Bali, and agreeably removed from the bogan hoardes and cut-price tourism of Kuta.











It's the sort of place where the staff slip unobtrusively into your room while you're out drinking $5 mai tais at the pool bar and restore pristine order... and create the occasional work of art.





I loved it. But Lord Vader is not impressed.