Hot Mom Travel Diary Day 3 – Silver Fast Cruise and Kuta Shopping
Hot Mom Travel Diary Day 3 – Silver Fast Cruise and Kuta Shopping
Day 3: At 7:45 a.m., the driver from Silver Fast came to pick us up. It was still a private car, but with a different driver, a smiling man who introduced the scenery along the way. His English was pretty good, without much of an accent. After about forty minutes, we arrived at the shore in Nusa Dua where the Silver Fast departs. There was a Chinese-speaking staff member guiding us to wait for the boat. Just then, I suddenly realized a fatal mistake—oh my god, I forgot to bring my swimsuit! My daughter was almost in tears, asking Anny (the Chinese-speaking staff) what to do. She comforted us, saying we could buy one on the island we were going to. My mood was a bit affected, but I thought, since it's already like this, I shouldn't be too upset. I should just enjoy the vacation. At 9:15, we boarded the boat. It was a nice yacht with two decks. We took some photos on the upper deck, then went downstairs to have what the brochure called 'international standard' breakfast—only orange juice and cake. Fortunately, we didn't waste the hotel breakfast; the kids were smarter—they ate more and brought me some pastries to taste. They were indeed international standard, super delicious. I couldn't help but eat two pieces, while shouting that I was going to gain weight and needed to diet... The boat sped up and started to bounce. I accompanied the kids to the deck to watch the waves. The Indian Ocean water was indeed a deep, deep blue, even the spray was blue. Inside the cabin, three female employees danced for everyone, and a chubby girl creatively tied different sarongs as fashion and walked the catwalk. My friend laughed at how confident she was, thinking she was a model, but confident people are indeed beautiful—the expression on her face was so full of happiness.
The boat ride took over an hour. In the second half, my friend started getting seasick, looking very uncomfortable. I also felt a little off (the boat actually provided seasickness medicine, but we didn't take any). Fortunately, after seeing a few small islands, we finally arrived at the floating platform. We disembarked and headed straight to the swimsuit counter. The swimsuits were 250,000 RP each, a fixed price for adults and children, no bargaining. And surprisingly, they were the Sanqi brand, the same brand I had bought online for this trip. In Shanghai, buying such a swimsuit online would cost about 80 RMB each, but now it was equivalent to 175 RMB. Luckily, my daughter picked one she was very satisfied with, and I picked an orange one that made my skin look even darker. Changed clothes, what else to wait for? Let's play... We lined up for the banana boat, and the seawater splashed on us, feeling cold. Seeing the 64-meter slide, the two kids squealed and wanted to go up. I was shocked—the exit of the slide was more than a meter above the sea, and below was the vast ocean. Even though we were wearing life jackets, this was no tropical storm park. My daughter was the most infuriating, with a look that said she knew the tiger was there but still insisted on going. I had to brace myself and said I'd go up first to take a look (my friend couldn't swim, so the task of accompanying the kids fell entirely on me). There were no other tourists on the stairs to the slide. Halfway up, a sign in English said 'Recommended for good swimmers.' I immediately found my evidence and told the kids it was for people who swim well, so we couldn't go. But the staff member next to us kept gesturing for us to go up. I said to him, 'They can't swim.' But he still gestured upward and said, 'No problem.' So we somehow reached the top. The boy was supposed to go first, but he got scared at the last moment. My silly daughter rushed ahead, and after seeing her go down, the boy stupidly followed, and then me, looking like a martyr. The slide was not much different from those in a water park, but the feeling of landing in the sea was entirely different. First, I was slapped hard by the seawater, then salty seawater rushed into my mouth and nose. As soon as I opened my eyes, I heard my friend shouting anxiously from above, 'The kids! The kids!' I quickly looked around. My daughter had already swum to the scaffolding, while the boy was drifting away, his face pale. I swam forward desperately and soon grabbed him. But then I realized that the direction back to the scaffolding was against the current. With a child clinging to me, I couldn't swim at all. He was leaning on me, and no matter how hard I swam, I stayed in place, and even drifted farther when I relaxed. I told the boy not to cling to my back and to hold hands and swim back together, but he didn't listen, just lay on me motionless. I started to panic and shouted 'Help me' to the people on the platform. Several staff members saw us but didn't help, letting us drift away. Just as I was getting anxious, I noticed a group of people swimming back from a distance. They were snorkelers returning. A kind woman pulled me along, and finally, I joined their group. They weren't swimming back; they were holding a rope in the water to walk back. So, exhausted, we returned. After resting for a while, Anny told us to go for deep-sea diving to feed the fish. This fee was included in Ctrip's Silver Fast tour package; many non-Ctrip guests paid an extra $45 USD. The two kids were too young and might not fit the mask tightly, so they couldn't participate. My friend, who can't swim, looked scared. I told her, 'It's a rare experience, go for it.' Each of us had a coach, and both happened to speak Chinese. They asked where we were from, why Dad didn't come, how many days of vacation, etc. My friend went down first. My coach led me down as well. At just about two meters deep, my ears started to hurt badly (I have a congenital weakness in my ears, and the first few times I flew I cried from the pain). I kept trying to equalize the pressure in my eardrums, feeling scared, and signaled to go up. The coach took me to the surface, and I told him I'd try once more; if it still didn't work, I'd give up. He massaged my ears and took me down again. At about two meters, it still hurt. I wanted to go up, but the coach massaged my ears again, and I said 'OK' and went deeper by about two more meters, equalizing constantly, but my ears still hurt. Then I saw my friend about three or four meters below and a little farther away, standing on a platform, holding a bottle and feeding fish. Many fish were swimming around her. My coach made me hold a rope and gestured for me to wait. He went down and got a bottle of fish food, opened it, and squeezed. Fish swam toward us from all directions. The coach took my hand and let me touch the small and big fish. At that moment, my ears suddenly stopped hurting. I pulled myself deeper along the rope, but it hurt again, so I equalized again. Finally, I stood on the platform. The coach gave me a thumbs-up, and we enjoyed the wonderful time of dancing with the fish at the bottom of the sea... When I surfaced, my heart was full of gratitude. My coach helped me push my limits. When I made upward gestures several times to go back, he comforted and encouraged me. Together, we completed the challenge. I gave him a deep hug, and I believe that at that moment, our hearts were filled with pride, joy, and emotion. After coming up, my nose bled a little. So what? Compared to the touch in my heart, it wasn't scary at all. Strange, I had also dived a few years ago in Hainan, but it wasn't as painful, nor did I experience such a breakthrough and the joy of self-challenge. Last time, the strongest memory was the fear of losing my sense of time and space in the sea, but this time, I was more integrated into the environment, with the drive and effort to achieve a goal! That coach was really great. After we came up, my daughter clamored to go down, and he actually agreed, taking her down a meter or two. My daughter came up extremely satisfied and proud.
Lunch was a BBQ provided by the tour company on the platform, with lots of delicious shrimp, fish, pastries, etc. After lunch, a small sampan took us to Turtle Island. On the way, we also did a boat dive to see small fish. Turtle Island was not large, mainly for seeing local cultural activities: holding turtles for photos, watching women weaving, cockfighting, and playing beach volleyball. Going further in, there was a market where women called us to buy their clothes and accessories, but we were in swimsuits and had no money. I told them, 'No money.' They said, 'No money, no beautiful.' After wandering around, we waited for the boat to return to the floating platform. The scenery around the small island was superb. Many local children set up stalls selling shells and corals they had picked up on the beach. 'We have no money.' But a little girl pointed to my friend's black hairpin and said it was pretty and could be exchanged. It was a very ordinary hairpin, you could buy four for 2 RMB, but the little girl actually gave a piece of white coral in exchange. This sparked our exchange enthusiasm. My daughter exchanged her hair tie for a shell. I exchanged the wooden bracelet I bought yesterday (10,000 RP) for a large piece of yellow coral. My friend exchanged her wooden bracelet for a conch. Her silly son watched in amazement but had nothing on him except swim trunks, so he jumped on me trying to take off my jade bracelet. I quickly ran away in fright—this one wasn't 10,000 RP, but over 10,000 RMB!
We took a small boat back to the platform. It was almost time. I asked the two kids if they wanted to go on the slide again. They were afraid and didn't want to, so they went to the children's center to have a water fight. I climbed the high platform alone. Actually, I don't really like the slide, but I love the feeling of swimming in the sea. By using the slide, I could take a swim in the sea. My childlike heart returned :P... On the Silver Fast back, there was laughter and singing all the way, plus afternoon tea. By then I was hungry, and I had never thought coffee and small pastries could taste so good.
In the evening, the boy decided to stay at the hotel, eat instant noodles, and play online games on his console. The girl decided to go shopping with the adults. From Tuban to Kuta (only 7-8 minutes without traffic), the roadside driver asked for 35,000 RP. We bargained to 15,000 RP. Finally, a driver agreed to use the meter, but the traffic was heavy all the way. He said a string of English, but we basically understood nothing, roughly suggesting we find a place to eat first and go to Kuta later. He half-persuaded, half-pushed us to a restaurant. We paid 6,000 RP, then ordered food. We had very delicious Indonesian fried rice and noodles, and great juices. The bill was 170,000 RP. Since we didn't have enough cash, we paid in USD, and they only charged us $19 at an exchange rate of 0.9. Looks like we should exchange enough money for shopping and eating :(. Then we took a taxi that agreed to use the meter to reach Kuta's famous Matahari Department Store. My friend did a lot of shopping for gifts, while I patiently compared prices and chose the essential oils I wanted. In a small shop with local style opposite Matahari, I bought a large straw bag, and my daughter and friend each bought bracelets. Thinking of the boy waiting at the hotel, we quickly took a short stroll at Kuta Beach and prepared to return. Kuta at night was extremely lively but congested everywhere. Finally, we got a taxi that agreed to use the meter. We asked about the price, about 20,000 RP, which was actually not expensive at all because the return route was a one-way road and required a lot of detours. The enthusiastic driver chatted about all sorts of things, and we enthusiastically responded. Anyway, we were just happy. In the end, we gave him 7,000 RP as keep the change—after all, we were out to have fun.
