Arriving to Bali

"Tumbalen! Very far away" every person said at the airport. Bollocks. So a taxi took me, for a bargain of 10usd, to an inexistent bus station in a place called Batubulan (1 hour away from the airport) where I was meant to catch "the only bus" to Tumbalen where my friends were waiting.
The international bus station was a desertic parking lot with two run down buses. One of them was going to a place called Amlapura where my taxi driver explained in his basic english I would be able to catch the bus to Tumbalen.
Agus, had told me Tumbalen was only two hours away from the airport. So I imagined I was only half way from Batubalan.
Five hours later, after driving through numerous places, surrounded by chickens, hens and cocks, and local indonesian, I started to grow a bit impatient. "How many more hours till Amlapura" I asked. "One haouahs mor". What? "Yes yes...far away, pay now!"
Yes. At that point I began to feel a little fear of never getting there and ending up like Joan Wilder in Romancing the Stone. Where was Michael Douglas, to rescue me?, I wondered.
The views were amazing. Wildlife, palm beaches, green fields, rice fields, and once in a while, I could see glimpses of the sea, a bit pale blue and tourquoise.
At last, Amlapura. Freedom. What the hell was I doing with soo much weight on my shoulders? Amlapura was a small town, but meant to be a city. I was dropped on a street near a gas station. I needed to urgently find a bathroom, so my only hope of a bus to Tumbalen, was leaving as soon as I arrived and would not wait for me to go to the toilet.
Fuck them, let them go. I will get a taxi, I must not be that far away...after all, I had already spent 6 hours.
"No no lady. No taxi here. Tomorrow."
Me: "Hotel?"
Everyone stared at each other. No one understood a word I was saying. I made some signed to denote I meant a place to sleep. They laughed. "No hotel"
I was fucked. Someone offered me a motorcycle, but due to my lugguage circumstances, even though tempting, that was not a realistic option. Everyone was surrounding me, trying to get something out of me, but no one was really helping.
So I started walking. My indecisive nature, made me walk a few blocks, then back, then back again. I had no batteries on my phone so I couldn't call Agus. I needed to find a phone. But where?
Everyone in the street was staring at me, wondering what the hell I would do next. I was their only entertainment I guess. So I spotted a bank and went inside. "I need a phone, please, please" Phone? Hand gestures. The phone gesture is international. I showed them the phone number I had written in my agenda in Tumbalen. "Hotel, here, phone".
Magically a few of them handed over their blackberries and I convinced one of them to explain that I was looking for my friend. Argentina, friends. And someone picked up, at last.
Agus y Lucio, came to pick me up half an hour later. How they found me, I still can't understand. My only directions where "A red gas station, a bank across the street, in Amlapura". But they did find me.
And now, I am in Tumbalen. I just had a one hour massage for 6 pounds. Our bungalow is just across the beach. I can hear the waves crashing constantly. The Liberty, an old ship wreck, is sunk just in front of our hotel, so it's full of divers everyone.
London, home, work? What? Nothing sounds familiar.
I am not going back.