The question ‘Can we live here?’ becomes rhetorical in Bali. Like it’s followed by a silent ‘Do bears shit in the woods?’
Can we live here?
What do you reckon?
The neighbours live in a 200 year old teak house. John looks at it. ‘I feel bad. It’s like they’re living in the potting shed.’
I look up at our villa, towering over the Teak potting shed. It looks like the set of a vogue fashion shoot. There is an antique daybed overlooking the pool. It is draped with mosquito nets and strewn with so many pillows and cushions that climbing on it requires crampons. I grin back at John.
‘You’re enjoying it aren’t you?’ he says.
‘Yep,’ I say.
I pull on my fake Fendi’s. ‘So all we need to do now is figure out how to get a permanent visa.’