One of the funny things about marriage is learning how your partner works and then somehow merging that with how you work. Like a puzzle, but not always as straightforward.
Take, for example, the lead-up to this Bali adventure: we were originally planning to take a glorified weekend jaunt up to Bundaberg to witness the mass hatching of sea turtles that occurs every year around this time. A three-day weekend to a destination within driving distance was manageable. Cheap and easy. Done.
Those of you that know Peter know that he:
a. Is really, really fun
b. Possesses spontaneity bordering on the extreme. After agreeing on the Bundaberg trip, he decided that he wanted to fly somewhere. Somewhere international. In two weeks. For a week.
While not quite as
reckless spontaneous as my beloved, I was into the idea. We could do this! Let’s go to Asia, finally! I scrolled through pictures of whale sharks in the Philippines, Thai beach resorts and Balinese temples. We decided on Bali.
Then I remembered that I’m not yet a permanent Australian visa and my in-between status means I cannot legally leave and reenter the country without a specific visa. That visa carries its own forms, fee and indeterminate processing time. I think this is a deal-breaker, I said. Let’s do it anyway, Peter said. What’s the worst that could happen? If you can’t reenter Australia you go home to the US for a while!
That sounds like a pretty $%^!# worst-case scenario, I said.
Not to be deterred, I paid a quick visit to immigration. On the way, I successfully drove my MANUAL vehicle and PARALLEL PARKED on a HILL. I considered that a good luck omen. I was right.
A lovely immigration man heard my plea, assured me that I was safe to book flights, and within an hour I had received confirmation of my travel visa! For once, immigration gets a gold star and ten points.
So here we are- flights booked and leaving in a few days. I am giddy with excitement and full of visions of dirt-cheap spa massages, beautiful diving, elephants, markets and temples.
Peter says he just wants a monkey to serve him beer. I have a feeling that once we get there he’ll decide we should paraglide off a live volcano.
Here we go!