Once we got back to Singapore I had just enough time to unpack, wash clothes, and fill the fridge before my solo adventure began. That's right. For the first time in my adult life I took a trip (that wasn't work related) by myself. It all started at a mom's coffee meeting. I was having breakfast with a group from Miniman's school when we were joined by a Mom that had just returned from a trip to Bali. She told us all about the surfing, the clubs, the shopping, and that fact that she went BY HERSELF. Wait, what? Moms go places by themselves? Hand to God, it had never occurred to me that a grown woman with a husband and kids might take a vacation that didn't revolve around family or friends.
I had really, really wanted to learn how to surf when we were in Bali in August but ran out of time. The idea of a solo trip intrigued me but I kept feeling that, as a stay-at-home-mom, going somewhere exotic by myself was greedy and extravagant. The funny part was that I didn't think either of those things about the mom at the coffee meeting. So anyway, I started planning a trip to Bali for the whole family when The Man informed me he wouldn't go. He was training for a 50km trail race and the trip would interfere with his training. I couldn't just delay the trip until after the race as it was already mid-September and October marks the beginning of Bali's monsoon season. I had to choose between not going at all and going by myself. Just for laughs I checked out plane ticket and hotel prices and was surprised by how much they had gone down since it was the end of tourist season. I took this as a sign that I should go. Alone.
My friends enjoyed teasing me that this was my Eat, Pray, Love trip but I was quick to retort that at this point in my life my novel would be titled something more like Surf, Sleep, Spa. I arrived late Friday night, contacted my family back in Singapore, and slept like death. Saturday I took my first surf lesson, spent a few hours in the spa, shopped, and slept like death. Sunday I surfed, spa'd, and caught my flight back to Singapore. Surfing was a lot harder than my kids made it look but I enjoyed every single minute. Any hopes I had of being a natural on a surfboard were quickly dashed and I spent most of the first lesson like this:
and this:
and this:
But by Sunday I could do this:
I'm totally ok with the fact that I'll never go pro. In less than 48 hours I learned how to surf somewhat, bought great souvenirs, relaxed at the spa, and was ready to return home well rested and refreshed.Unfortunately, my absence at home had been a total disaster. The Man got sick Friday night right after I left and spent the entire weekend in bed. Miniman had to miss a birthday party he was looking forward to attending because I wasn't there to take him and his Dad was too sick to go. BGC was forced to spend her weekend fetching meds for her Dad and keeping her little brother alive. When I walked through the door Sunday night I was greeted by three people who vowed not to ever let me leave them again. Baby Girl Castello hugged me the hardest. I think that weekend gave her a little insight as to what my job really involves and she wanted no part of it. Good thing I got all that sleep in Bali.
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