"Do you mean to leave the island today?" A young Australian girl leaned against her backpack on a wooden platform next to the harbor. Her feet were dirty with what looked like days' worth of sand, and she held a folded paperback in one hand as she used the other to shield her face from the bright morning sun. She looked at us with our suitcases and water bottles and laughed. "No boats leaving the island today."
We walked over to the Indonesian boat operator behind the counter for confirmation. Surely because we had tickets? Surely they'd understand we had reservations on the other side for tonight? Surely after all we'd been through with natural disasters and transportation already on this trip, our honeymoon, after all?
He looked past me without a smile. "No fast boat today."
"Sea too rough. No boat sorry."
"Maybe later, if the sea calms down? Should we wait here for a few hours?"
"No boat today. Maybe you stay on the island for two days more."
"So no boats tomorrow either?"
"Maybe tomorrow. Definitely not."
With that clear and comforting answer, we wheeled our suitcases back down the dirt path to our beach bungalow hotel to find that, gratefully, they had not even cleaned our room yet and we could have it for another night.
We unzipped our bags in the same corner of the bamboo hut where we had just zipped them up less than an hour ago, pulled out our swimsuits, took the familiar 30 second walk to the beach barefooted, and promptly ordered two what-do-we-do-now cocktails. After all, it was the ripe drinking time of 9:15am.
When I last left you, dear blog reader, my new husband and I were stuck in Taiwan indefinitely, because a volcano had erupted in Indonesia, preventing us from beginning our honeymoon in Bali as planned.
This situation has me seriously contemplating the concept of "stuck."
I sipped my morning creamy banana alcoholic coffee goodness and lifted my sunglasses to ask my husband, "What do you think it means to be stuck?"
"When something prevents you from getting where you want, I guess."
"But what if you could take that power back by choosing to want whatever's happening, no matter what it is?"
"You mean like, 'Oh I'm so glad there are no boats today, that's exactly what I wanted!" I couldn't tell if he was mocking me...
"Yes, like that. Let's play that game from now on, ok? The oh-this-is-exactly-what-I-wanted game, no matter what it is. Won't that make it more fun?" He smiled and kissed me, which I took as a yes.
Turns out you can exercise your making-the-best-of-it muscle, and it gets easier as you go. This is how the game went:
- I'm so glad the fast boat was canceled because then we got to take the slow ferry. Even though it required five times longer traveling, it also meant I got to skip another death-defying speedboat ride that had us airborne and slapping hard on the ocean after every 10-foot wave. At least the boring ol' slow ferry didn't leave me crying and trembling and begging god for my life, thankyouverymuch.
We're now finishing our three-day stint in Amed, soon to leave for Ubud, where we will spend the rest of our honeymoon - presumably still playing the I'm-so-glad-this-happened game.
Stay tuned for more wild woman honeymoon adventures - both planned and unplanned. And as always, if you enjoyed this post, please share the love!
What type of wild woman are you?
Hello! I'm Melanie Munir, founder of Professional Wild Woman - a women's empowerment business dedicated to helping women who are tired of feeling either "too much" or "not enough" to connect to their inner wildness so they can create work that allows them the fullest expression of their unique voice. Welcome!