Hoping for a ‘best for last’ scenario, I secured the final room in the yoga camp. My confirmation stated ‘standard room’ but there was no further information, no photos, not even a mention of such room type anywhere. When inquired, I was told it’s an “additional room”, but “the same as other ones” (?), just that after Covid, the room was no longer advertised or offered for the general public. While my imagination ran a marathon conjuring reasons, I tried to keep my composure and not judge prematurely.
Entering room 101, I allowed my senses to conduct the assessment. First, the smell – approved. Clean, no hint of mould, paint, or plumbing issues. Visual aesthetics – passed. A well-laid-out space featuring a sizeable, immaculately made bed. Two steps in, a direct access to the pool through window-doors. Soundproof – yet to be tested, but first impressions positive as all I could hear were nature sounds. Touch – no dust, relatively comfy bed; however, I dared not investigate the mattress – sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
Amidst the self-congratulatory moment for not bailing out and actually listening to my intuition, I failed to notice the massive gaps between the window-doors until bedtime. A light breeze hinted that fresh air is also serving as a highway to ants, mosquitos, spiders, geckos and what not to enter the room. In the midst of panic, the creativity bulb lit up – I ran to the bathroom, grabbed a roll of toilet paper and began my DIY construction work.
The solution was great for bigger gaps – inch-wide crevices at ground level, but smaller ones toward the top needed extra tools. I dug out the manicure scissors to tuck the paper in the gaps and seal the deal. Pleased with the results, after almost an hour of tedious labour, I tilted my head distracted by a gecko on the other side of the room, and realised there is another set of window-doors to fix. Running low on toilet paper (had to keep some for its actual use case), I glanced at the box of tissues sitting on the table and got to work again.
Expecting to wake up and see no previously listed intruders in my room the following morning, I was shocked to witness an increase in ant traffic. The audacity! I decided to give it another night and another one and one more, until my zen attitude succumbed to waking up numerous times battling mosquitoes and ants. Losing my patience and running out of anti-repellent and after-repellent lotions I went to the reception to complain. The lovely Balinese man listened carefully and assured that his “friend” (everyone is a “friend” or a “brother/sister” in Bali) will find a solution.
I discovered later that night the solution was to spray the anti-uninvited creatures chemicals around the doors which unfortunately made it impossible for the invited creatures i.e. me to stay indoors either. Apparently the “friend” did not want to destroy my toilet-paper art and therefore did not dare to open the doors to let the chemicals ventilate. After spending a night in another ‘emergency room’, I gave my blessing next morning to ruin ‘the art’, and a handyman proceeded with installing rubbers on the edges of the door that miraculously fixed the problem “built up through many years of use” as explained by the receptionist. You are welcome, future guests.
