So here’s a story from 2017.
We planned to get a moped to explore Bali at the end of our travels, the day before we fly back… get lost amongst the rice fields, take some photos and embrace nature. You know wind in our hair type of affair…
Mopeds are the main source of transportation in Bali, everyone has one. A Balinese lady I met there has been driving since she was 12, and if you don’t drive a moped you get a Blue Bird taxi, or a GoRide or a GoCar everywhere.
So anyways, we found a rental company that was reasonable – you’re allowed to haggle- and when I say rental company, I mean a man with some mopeds in a hut.
You’ve gotta live life on the edge guys.
The day before we leave Bali, we make our way to the rental man, all ready for the day. Pretty excited to go touring with my Mr for our last day. Price negotiated, papers signed, helmets secured….Vroom vroom and we’re off!
Driving to Seminyak Square, only 2 minutes in to our journey and I’m having a lovely time. Now you see Seminyak square, let’s say it’s the equivalent of Trafalgar Square, The Bull Ring, Bristol City Centre. Now imagine those in the summer, you get the picture… It’s manic.
Mopeds are allowed to the mount the pavements in Bali. Traffic can get ridiculous, so they have dipped curbs all the way down the roads to allow mopeds to go up and down to get through the traffic. So that’s what we did.
10 minutes in, he mounts the curb, I’m holding on tight but I’m confident he’s got this. We’re approaching the other side.
Now imagine a cartoon where the car is soaring through the air – that was us, I’m sure of it! The moped tilts to the side, we’re sliding through traffic towards parked mopeds. Crash. He’s off, on the floor holding his foot. I’m stuck underneath the moped. What is this life.
I check my bones, I’m ok.
The local men came rushing over to his aid, pour water over his wound. He isn’t ok… blood is pouring from his foot. What do we do?! The clinic was two meters away (thank goodness) so he was taken there by one of the men. I sort the moped, grab the keys whilst a local man is trying to get an insurance claim from me. No chance. I walk to the clinic. He’s alive. He has his limbs but the cut on his foot. Yikes.
Luckily we had insurance, however the doctor asked me about anaesthetic as he may need this for the stitches. Shocked and overwhelmed, here’s were I made a bit of a mistake. I thought she meant the general anaesthetic, you know the one that puts you to sleep. So I’m thinking recovery time, money and whether it was necessary, don’t forget we fly back to the UK the next day. Wasn’t until after the stitches I realised she meant local anaesthetic.
Anyways, I reassure him that it’ll hurt a bit but he doesn’t need the anaesthetic, he’s got this. Goodness me. I didn’t realise how much it would hurt. Ever had someone speak in backslang and understood it under pressure? I have.
Feeling a guilty.. understatement. Still feel guilty now? Definitely lol.
My leg now starts bleeding and they clean it with iodine. Mother of God. I forget how much that stuff stings. Overwhelmed with it all and scared we won’t be able to fly back, or the Balinese Mafia will be after us for the moped, I’m crying. Adrenaline is a crazy thing.
Bill settled – equivalent of £200. Hobble to the taxi and make our way back to our Villa. He can’t walk, well on one foot he can. Next problem, how the hell are we returning the moped back? We’ve left it in Seminyak Square, and our villa is a taxi journey away. He cant drive it now and there’s no way I can… or can I? He tells my G.I Jane self to relax because it’s too dangerous on my own. Now what…..
The rental company took our address see, so they know were to collect it from, and there are lots of insurance scams happening between locals and tourists. So if they attend the villa and if we don’t have it then what?!
I’ve got it. I’ll speak to the staff we know and see if they can help. He’s in the villa with his foot elevated, I’m in a taxi on the way to get the moped with the receptionist who has offered to drive it back to the villa for us. The relief. She’s the lady who has been driving since she was 12! She even stopped in the pharmacy to get us the medication we needed. Now I tell you guys, I held on tight and felt the wind in my hair. Drove through the rice fields. This is what I wanted… not a trip to A&E lol
Turns out the moped was faulty.
Even the journey home was a massive palaver!! Massive. At the airport I grab a wheelchair for him because of the pain, and his inability to walk on his foot. We didn’t realise, but as we’re about to check-in, we’re informed that he needs to be authorised to fly home. Off we go to see the Doctor in the airport. It was such a long walk I felt like I was going to be interrogated for being a drug mule at one point.
Providing the forms from the A&E, a check-up and a payment – yes we had to pay to be authorised to fly, we could catch our flight. After a few giggles from the Doctor and his staff at our expense, they explained that the A&E charged us triple what they would of charged a local because they know it can be claimed back on our insurance. Cheeky gits.
The staff in other countries as so attentive. Sure, they’ve probably come across 100’s of tourists injured from moped accidents, however they stayed with us until we sat at our gate. Pushing him around in the wheelchair – he felt like an injured King I’m sure. Taking us through all these secret corridors. We were grateful.
Next time I’m driving the moped.
theclumsywanderer 