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Jan 31 (edited) • BEDFORD TO BALI
DAY ZERO (THE DAY OF TRAVEL… AKA WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK)
HOW IT STARTED.
Day zero. The dreaded day of travel. I actually woke up with my anxiety pretty settled, which surprised me, but the morning itself was a bit of a rush. I didn’t get much sleep before travelling, which always happens because I get a bit giddy and wired and just can’t switch off, and that’s kind of cool in its own way.
I finally went to bed around 2 o’clock in the morning at my daughter Rachel’s, which is when the cats decided they were suddenly very comfortable in the house and started being absolute dickheads, running around like lunatics. Jennifer decided that anything left on any surface was absolutely not allowed and needed to be knocked off immediately because obviously it was her space now.
THE MIRROR INCIDENT.
I was just drifting off to sleep at about 2:30am when I heard a noise and then a mirror fell on me while I was laying in bed. This wasn’t a small mirror either, it was a huge, heavy mirror, like a big IKEA wardrobe door mirror, and oh my god. One of my feet was sort of up, toes pointing towards the ceiling, and the mirror landed straight on my big toe. I genuinely think I might have broken it because I couldn’t move it and it went quite numb.
I had to call Racheal, who was sleeping in the front room, to come and move the mirror because it was literally flat on top of me and I couldn’t move. Racheal found this absolutely hilarious. She was wetting herself laughing at the fact that I rang her saying a mirror had fallen on me, and she thought I was sleep talking until she came in and actually saw the mirror lying on top of me. We’re a family that laughs in awkward situations, so yeah, she was laughing her head off and then we both tried to get back to sleep but couldn’t because we were just giggling about the mirror casually deciding to rest on me.
I don’t even know what time I finally fell asleep, but I was awake again at 6am.
THE MORNING BIT.
Morning coffee got made, I made Rachel a coffee, and just potted about a little while she got sorted for school and headed off. Lils went with her on the school run but then came back with me, which was really nice. Cirilla stayed with me and we had some proper cuddles, which doesn’t happen very often, and she’s been poorly so she was in a really cuddly mood, which was lovely.
THE JOURNEY BEGINS.
When they got back from the school run, we headed off on our jollies to the train station. Now, walking into a train station sounds simple enough, unless you’ve got a three-year-old who is highly clumsy, so she fell over on the way which held us up a little bit. We finally got there, collected my tickets, said our goodbyes, and as we were crossing the bridge to the platform my train pulled in.
I rushed across and just as I got there, the doors closed and the train left. I missed my train. That was really annoying, but this is exactly why I leave loads of time when I travel, just in case things go wrong. I didn’t want it to frame my whole day, it was what it was.
AIRPORT MODE.
I got to Heathrow, checked my bag in with no problem at all, it all went really smoothly and didn’t take long. Security was also really quick, which was nice, and then I found a little place to sit, had something to eat and a couple of mimosas, which felt like a decent way to start the day.
FLIGHT ONE: GO WITH THE FLOW.
I boarded my flight in the second group, and by the time I got on there was no space in the overhead lockers for my hand luggage, which was frustrating because it meant it had to go by my feet. I don’t need loads of legroom because I’m little, but it was just enough to stop me stretching out comfortably.
My hopes and manifestations of having a quiet, empty flight absolutely did not come true, so I’m guessing the universe was telling me something there. This flight was full of people and families with small children, and bearing in mind this was my first ever flight on my own, no kids, no one else to look after, I’d had a very different plan in my head.
But Bali is all about going with the flow, and I think that’s exactly what this flight was teaching me. I wasn’t meant to be structured and rigid, I was meant to adapt. The plan had been to sleep on the first flight and sort my body clock out, but that didn’t really happen, and that was okay.
I felt quite emotional on that flight, especially after the stress of the trains and switching platforms. There were some really high escalators and I am not good with heights at all, even escalators freeze me. I get vertigo and panic, and there’s a very real reason for that fear.
When I was a kid, I was sitting at the top of a two-storey staircase at school when another child pushed me over the edge. I fell two storeys, dislocated my jaw and split my chin open, so yeah, my fear of heights is very rational. I’m trying not to let it control me, but it definitely showed up.
Despite that, everything went smoothly.
THE LAYOVER AND FLIGHT TWO.
I got off the first flight, which was just under seven hours, and didn’t have loads of time for the next one but enough. Qatar airport is huge. Heathrow felt like 15 minutes to get across, Qatar was more like half an hour, but everything was really clear and straightforward and there were no problems at all.
I boarded the next flight and this time managed to get my bag in the overhead locker, which gave me a bit more legroom, but again the flight was packed. Sadly, the person behind me thought it was acceptable to kick the back of my seat constantly, and this was a grown adult, not a child, which was really frustrating. I tried not to let it get to me.
I had planned to work or crochet, but there just wasn’t space, so instead I accepted the reality that I was absolutely exhausted. I slept, woke up for food, slept again, and ended up getting about five solid hours of sleep in total, which I really needed. The rest of the flight I just watched a film and relaxed.
ARRIVAL.
I arrived in Bali and honestly, passport control and immigration was easy peasy. My bag was the first off the plane, and I was out of the airport within 45 minutes, which I’m told is very good.
I met my driver, who was an absolute gem. He gave me water to help me decompress and chatted to me on the drive from Denpasar to Ubud about Bali and what I wanted from my trip, which was really grounding.
THE MOMENT IT LANDED.
I finally met my epic friend in person after four years of being friends online, checked into my room, dropped my bags, went out for a drink, walked down the road and met up with two of the other ladies from the retreat. We sat chatting, laughing, having a drink, and in that moment it really hit me.
I made it. I actually did it.
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DAY ZERO (THE DAY OF TRAVEL… AKA WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK)
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Documenting my journey: real, raw life as a neurodiverse mum. First solo trip to Bali 🏝️
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