It was the 4th of February. Belgium confirmed a case of COVD-19, its first. Hong Kong confirmed the city’s 13th death. Malaysia now had 10 cases, Thailand 25, South Korea 16, and Vietnam 9 [Wikipedia]. The world was swirling around us but we remained in a calm eye of the storm.
Jill unfailingly meditated in our room each day. She had decided to try it for a year in 2019. So while she was looking inside herself, I kept up-to-date my phone on the porch.
After our first morning eating up the hill we started having our breakfasts on the front porch of our cottage. Our host even came down the hill with a menu, it felt pretty luxurious. He didn’t have to bring the menu. It was day 4 and I ate my fourth banana pancake. I usually ordered the omelet for Jill and we would enjoy our breakfast on the porch watching the pool, the jungle, and occasionally glimpse people at the other hotel across the ravine. A short rain shower added to the ambience. It was like we’d stepped into a Gauguin painting.
When we finished breakfast, I walked Jill over to her yoga workshop. I then walked across the street to a winner of a restaurant we’d discovered the night before called Bali Buda and ate my second breakfast of the day.
It wasn’t extravagant, just an English muffin with butter, Passion Fruit Jam along with a Long Black (that’s an Americano more or less). I wrote one or two postcards sitting there. Those are some of the missing postcards, maybe they will turn up some day. Now that I think about it I may have eaten lunch at Bali Buda as well. Honestly, I don’t remember what I did after that.
That evening Jill and I ate at a Thai restaurant and fondly remembered our 2019 trip to Chiang Mai.
Myna birds are creepy. Rain in Bali, not creepy.
P.S. Second breakfasts are for hobbits.