Ubud and a man with a plan #BaliDisey

After the Ubud Writers Festival finished for the day, I rang Made and asked him to come and get me: he had said after he dropped me off on Thursday night just to call if I needed a ride, so I did. I was in two minds about it though, because in the cold hard, light of day, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed at how fast things were moving, as exciting and interesting as it was. I was also conscious of the age difference—15 years, although Made said it was a non-issue. ‘Not old,’ he said. Still, I felt self-conscious at times, not in a “I wonder what people are thinking” way because no one seemed to bat an eyelid, but rather in a “what’s a young man doing with an old lady” way. But I couldn’t get a cab, so I called him. We had arranged to meet at 6pm anyway, so it’s not like I was thinking up artificial excuses to see him.

About 15 minutes later he pulled up on his bike looking fresh and clean in a white t-shirt and shorts, and I was surprised how pleased to see him I was. I climbed on the bike behind him, and put my hands on his hips. He moved them to his stomach. ‘You have shower,’ he said. ‘Then I take you to local market, maybe suckling pig.’

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘No problem.’

After the night before, I knew exactly how this night was going to progress, and how it would end up, but it was refreshing to be taken out for a meal first. Rarely does one get taken for a date before sexy times by an Australian man.

We rode past the Elephant Keep, and into a more local, non-touristy part of Ubud. The evening was warm, and I had an overwhelming sense that being with this man right now was exactly what I was supposed to be doing. I leaned in closer to him and my breasts pressed up against his back. I kissed the back of his neck. His skin was soft and smooth, almost silky. He smelled clean and fresh. Every now and then he would blow me a kiss over his shoulder. I loved that his tattoos peeked out from under his t-shirt.

We stopped at a little stall on the side of the road where Made had a couple of shots of ginseng—to make himself stronger for me, he said. Ginseng is popular among Asian men for power. And then we got back onto the bike and rode to the market, and we wandered through all kinds of stalls selling all manner of things: food, drinks, bags, trousers, vegetables, toys. I was the only westerner here. Made held my hand as we walked through the market and he said hello to the people he knew as we walked past.

‘You want suckling pig?’ He has a thing for suckling pig.

I shook my head. ‘No. Vegetarian,’ I said. ‘Maybe tofu.’

That was until walked past a satay stall and I saw steaming hot chicken satays on a char-grill that looked too delicious to pass up, so I bought a serve. Actually, Made bought me a serve. They were hot and charcoaly and peanutty and not at all like the satays one gets from home. These were thin strips of meat on a skewer, barely one centimeter wide and I was served six. The sauce was dark, with only a hint of peanuts, but spicy. Made didn’t eat—he told me he had eaten earlier—but he made sure I had something to drink and sat with me while I ate.

After my meal, he advised me of the proceedings of the night. ‘You’re a man with a plan,’ I said.

He nodded and smiled. ‘Yes.’

To he honest, I had no idea how this sexy times thing was going to transpire. I thought he would take me to his house, or he would come back to the hotel with me. I didn’t know there was a third option: he had arranged a room at a small hotel, not far from the market where we ate. (I found out later that he lives in a kind of boarding house, with too many other people around, so privacy and discretion was a big issue.)

‘Ok,’ I said when he told me. ‘But we need condoms. You have condoms?’

‘No. You?’

‘No.’

So we stopped at a mini-market and stocked up. Better to be safe, for both our sakes. He then took me to a hotel, where we rented a room for an hour. The room reminded me of the “three star” hotel I stayed in in Shanghai when I was stranded by Qantas. It was certainly not three star, not even close to two, but the sheets were clean and Made seemed pleased there was a shower. He also seemed pleased that the ginseng was working. ‘Very good ginseng,’ he said. ‘Very strong.’

I’m not going to go into details here, but suffice it to say sexy times were had and the sexy times were very good.

Made did ask me how long it had been since last time, and I told him a long time. ‘Me too,’ he said. I don’t think he had slept with anyone since he broke up with his wife.

We showered and dressed and went back into Ubud on his bike, and found a bar that was playing Bob Marley music. I had a couple more Bintangs (he didn’t, because he was the designated driver and is very responsible) and then he took me back to my hotel.

‘I see you tomorrow,’ he said when he dropped me off. ‘I take you to Elephant Keep. Other places.’

‘Ok,’ I said. ‘What time?’

‘One thirty.’

‘Ok,’ I said.

He kissed me, and I walked up the stairs to my hotel room and I slid into the cool sheets, wondering how on earth it came to be that I had taken my airport transfer driver as my lover. At the same time, I was very glad I had.