Why there’s no place like home, like Bali…

It’s good to be back in Bali. Some people have asked me, ‘at the end of all your travels, didn’t you just want to go home?’ And I say, ‘Definitely, more than anything. So that’s what I did. I went home.’


OK, technically, this isn’t my home. It’s my friend Paul’s home. I remember coming to the land blessing ceremony before the villa in front of this pool was built and watching the sacrifice of a young chicken pretty much where Noah is swimming right there. A lot has changed. But some things stay the same. I still waddle like a penguin and sweat like a chimp in a sarong…


but in places like this…


…who cares?


And if that’s where your heart is (ie, by a beautiful swimming pool where everything is pretty and nice) – that’s home.

For now at least.

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