‘Mrs Putu will come and get you,’ Natasha says. ‘And lock you in a cage,’ I add. ‘And make you clean her toenails,’ ‘With your tongues,’ Jay completes the image. The three fall silent. Their faces in the candlelight are struck with horror. A lip quivers. I hear a wimper. Maybe we went too far. …

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Driving in Bali is like playing space invaders. Cars, dogs, scooters, chickens, trucks and bikes are all sharing the one lane road with you and they’re coming at you from every direction trying to kill you.  If you get distracted by the 7 year old driving past you on his scooter with his three year …

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