An Indonesian bloke’s got my Nike’s – By @GCopywrite
An Indonesian bloke’s got my Nike’s
My Dearest Readers,
I received the most wonderful surprise in the post yesterday. A pair of White Nike Air Max.
And if you’ll kindly oblige, I’ll delve into the details of why this was the most fabulous Tuesday morning arrival.
Let us recreate in our imaginations the famous Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets scene. The one where Harry writes in the diary and says “I can’t tell you but I can show you” and the pages of the book flip and flop madly in the magical wind. We are transported fifty years back in time in the Hogwarts entrance hall with a rather dashing Tom Riddle on the stone steps.
Except this time, we are just going back two summers ago and to a little island in Indonesia called Gilli Trawangan.
A far cry from a Scottish stone hall, it’s the baking hot summer of 2018. In the previous months I had managed to snag a boyfriend and here we were on our first ever romantic holiday.
This was far far far from romantic.
We’d been on the island for about a week in a 20quid a night hut type thing. It had a sliding glass door to the bathroom and crap air con but it was clean and the staff who ran the site were expectional. Obviously they had five star reviews on trip advisor otherwise I wouldn’t have booked. I’m not that thick.
What I hadn’t accounted for was the travellers classic ‘Gilli Belly’. Yes friends, I had been struck down most terribly. ALL WEEK. It’s our final night and ever since by strawberry daiquiri at lunch time I’d been feeling even more out of odds than the last six days.
While Duffy was collecting a Pizzeria Regina pizza, I decided to see if being sick would alleviate my symptoms. Snaps for me, it did. I merrily ate some pizza and thought that I’d got whatever was lurking, out of my system.
I fell asleep dreaming of Draco Malfoy and abruptly woke. Something was very very wrong.
My dear Readers, I shall spare you the gory but the heavens opened from everywhere. And the glass door did little to keep the sounds out.
Staggering to my feet, I search around the mile long island to find the Doctor at 4am. I’m hooked up to IV and I reach over to my boyfriend, pass him my debit card and beg him to pack up our room and book an actual hotel for the remaining day. I was utterly and truly desperado.
I recover well in the beautiful air conditioned space and somewhat shakily am ready to hop on a boat to take us back to the mainland the next morning. But……
Where are my shoes?
Where are my Nikes?
The boat is about to leave and all I have is a pair of lilac fluffy primark flip flops.
Duffy jumps aboard panting and sweating saying that they have no idea where my shoes are. He left them in the old 20quid hotel but the cleaner has now island hopped and they are nowhere to be seen.
I fly home via Singapore in said flip flops, WITH socks and mourn the loss of my trainers.
Ping! My WhatsApp goes berserk as the staff FIND my trainers, I offer to pay post and package and they’ll send them back to me the next day.
Turns out, five minutes later there was an earthquake.
My shoes got looted.
I have been bitter to my boyfriend ever since.
But as of yesterday, he is finally forgiven.
And some lucky bloke is running around Lombok with a large Childs size Nikes. Please enjoy dear friend.