You may have noticed that the most action I got in Ubud was with myself (or with a tiny Balinese masseuse if you count that.) Ubud wasn’t really a party place. Having spent a week there, I moved to the coast, to a place called Seminyak for the weekend, checking into a hostel. Being out of high season I was expecting a lot of rain but I have been so lucky with the weather, it’s only rained once or twice in almost three weeks. It’s extremely humid though so I would definitely come again later in the year. Out of all the places I have been Bali is the most westernised, with beautiful cafes and restaurants but still lots to see. 

In Seminyak it’s all about the beach and the nightlife. I arrived and immediately made friends with a few girls and we hit up this place called Motel Mexicola – one of the most fun bars I have ever been to. The crab tacos are banging. All the food looks awesome and a Mexican bartender cum dj who looks likes a latin Jesus jumps on your dinner table and pours free flowing tequila down your neck. I love tequila and free tequila is even better. After several tequilas everyone is dancing on the tables. My boisterous friend Rose joined me in Seminyak daring me to pull Mexican Jesus. I think he had probably kissed plenty of other tequila fuelled women, who, high on life and dancing to the Macarena think anything is a good idea. It was no real challenge to be fair, but hen he offered me tequila I offered him my lips and he was actually a pretty good kisser. That man must get laid a hell of lot. I took the tequila willingly but thought I know your game Mexican Jesus. Go and spin me some cotton eyed joe and think yourself lucky son. 

The weekend is all a bit of haze – we spent the days with a girl squad from the hostel thinking we were balling down at the W bar hotel’s pool or Potato head beach club. I say thinking we were balling as it ain’t cheap in Bali. It’s western prices. We couldn’t fathom how much a bottle of champagne actually cost there was so many zeros. But the beach clubs were cool and we defo brought the party, yet the vibe was more chilled. It might be the season. There’s also a lot of couples in Bali.  Every time I saw a hot man two seconds later his average looking girlfriend would pop up like an irritating fly that just doesn’t know when to quit. This one dark, exotic looking, muscular man sat opposite me at the pool bar. He looked miserable as fuck with his girlfriend and kept catching my eye. I joked to the girls that he would be much happier with me. What a waste. 

The Saturday night we went to a really cool, partially outdoor,  Spanish-garden themed nightclub called La Favella. It’s rammed in there every night and full of sausage. I’m picky believe it or not when it comes to sausage, so not just any will do. There’s probably a lot of my friends right now reading this thinking that’s the biggest untruth I’ve ever told. I met a really hot guy from South Africa and we were all over each other (snogging like 18 years olds at a disco which is highly embarrassing, but the tequila made me do it) He would have totally got it but I lost him – never to be found again. What a pity.

After a weekend of too much booze and sun I moved to a quieter place called Uluwatu to an amazing hotel for a couple of nights, watching beautiful sunsets from a few cliff clubs – El kabron was simply stunning and you could watch the sunset from their swimming pool whilst sipping on a speciality gin cocktail and eating some tapas. Yum.

Next up was the Gili Islands. I have been told by so many people to go to Gili. Of the three islands, it’s Gili T that brings the party. When I arrived off the boat, reunited with Landan Rose, we were greeted by a muddy shanty town. The whole island is an absolute dump. Apparently all the beach bars have been torn down due to them being built illegally, so the place is a building site right now. Our hostel was empty as we arrived as everyone was out at the booze cruise apparently. Yeah it’s one of them. Everyone seems to be (fake) best friends and there’s a lot of shipwrecked wannabes wandering around. Not my cup of tea. It was raining so the only thing to do was start drinking. We joined two guys from London at the bar and ended up partying with them and others until the early hours. I was completely off my tits and argued with Rose over a guy and ended up calling my friends in the UK, crying about how much I missed home. What a moron. The next day, I did a snorkelling trip alone to deal with the remorse from the night before and I decided to leave Gili. So I booked the next boat out of there. I couldn’t leave quick enough. The snorkelling was amazing – I saw a giant sea turtle, but getting on a boat in the rough water with a hangover is not the one. I nearly threw up a couple of times.

I had met a lovely couple of girls in Uluwatu who invited me to stay at their sick villa in beach town Canggu, which is one of the new hip areas to stay in. The villa is like something out of cribs, for 35 pounds a night per room as a special deal. When I arrived I checked out my room with ensuite, stone bed frame with king size bed, and I knew I wanted to have sex in this room. It’s been chill during the day, eating brunch at cool cafes and going out at night. Saturday night we hit La Favella again and I pulled this Balinese guy, but I wasn’t feeling it so I ditched him. I woke up with the worst hangover and slept most of yesterday before pulling it together to go to a packed beach bar for sunset. Bali is all about the sunsets. 

I had arranged to meet a cute looking younger man who happened to be a Spaniard who I matched with on Tinder. (Just for a laugh!) Him and his friend joined me and a girl from the villa. He was pretty fit in person. His friend was hilarious too. Considering my Spanish heritage I’ve never been with a Spaniard. Hmmmmm. He was also kind (or offering dick) when he offered to drive me to a cash machine when my bank card wasn’t working. He ended up driving me to the villa to get another card. I could have probably pounced on him there and then but I wanted to assess him a little longer and the night was still young. A few frozen strawberry daiquiri’s later we moved to a night club that was absolutely rammed and playing a good mix of old school hip hop and rnb. The Spaniard held my waist and learned in for a kiss. His tongue was gentle but I could feel his semi through his jeans. The club ended at midnight and I invited him back to the villa, leaving him to his own devices as I showered. I joined him in just a towel. We lay on my bed and he kissed me, licking my bottom lip. I could feel his erection through his jeans as he pressed against me. He took them off making a lame excuse but we both knew exactly what we were about to do. His fingers wandered up my thighs, and I closed my eyes as stroked me until I was soaking wet. He opened the towel slowly, like I was the gift he was most excited about on christmas morning, and kissed my breasts, as I pulled his lengthy dick out of his boxers. Wow. What a pleasant surprise. I’m definitely trying Spanish sausage again. I couldn’t wait to sit on top of him and rode him fiercely. He flipped me over, kissing my back gently and parted my legs to lick me from behind. He gets extra points for the oral. The sex was good, hard, and when he did me from behind I wasn’t sure I could take it. The boy had stamina. But despite our best efforts no one could orgasm- I think it was the alchohol. We slept, exhausted and sweaty. In the morning we cuddled in and I felt his fingers tracing my back gently. His morning erection digging into my stomach. Round two was far more successful. For him at least, but he left me feeling well and truly fucked. Just what I needed, and a great end to Bali. Malaysia tomorrow here we go.