We rejected winter. We glared at Jack Frost. “No!” we shouted. “No, Jack! We can’t abide your icy influence. We’re outta here!”
And lo, a big jet plane took us to a little Indonesian island. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? Bali?
There were, let me see, giant barking geckoes, manta rays, hunting bats, mammoth moths, delicious things, bananas (biu) by the bunch, hundreds of mangy mutts, turquoise waters, sunny days and balmy nights.
There were also a lot of foreigners. If you scurry away from the south (which seems to be a commuter suburb of Sydney) you can escape most of the Australians. And anyway, the Balinese thought we were Dutch because we were tall and very white, being the only antipodeans who were behatted and sunscreened.
Twas grand.
livebird 