The Travelling Life of Silvan Colani
September 2001 - Club Med Bali
On the occasion of a visit by my good friend Danilo and his son Noah (whose godfather I am) to
Hong Kong, I decided to take these guys for a week of sun and fun to Club Med in Bali. I have
not been to Club Med since I was a little boy and I was worried that it might all be a bit "too
French" for my taste. But since we were traveling with little Noah (4 years old), I figured
that Club Med might be a good choice.
My initial reaction at the Club was indeed one of apprehension: too many fat Europeans, too
many brawly Australians, too many silly games, everything too organized... But as you settle
in for your week in the Club, you start to relax and - slowly but surely - start to enjoy the
people and the program. So much so, that by the time you have to leave, you still feel like
you have not yet done enough of all the activities on offer.
The greatest asset of Club Med is its staff, or G.O.s, as they are called (contrary to popular
belief, G.O. does NOT stand for Genetically-modified Oztralians, but something French which
translates to 'generous hosts'). These are young guys (and girls) from various parts of
the world full of enthusiasm, humor, character and interpersonal skills. I have been to many
hotels and resorts before, but I must admit that the human factor in Club Med is unique.
And then there's the Club Med program. You definitely don't go to Club Med to sit on the beach
the whole day (that would be a waste of your money). But if you're looking for an active
program, particularly with a kid, boy you're in for a busy week! Here's a typical day of ours:
9:00 am. Get up after a repeated wake-up calls by a crazy squirrel, which tries to climb the outside of our door at exactly the same time every morning. Remember to buy a shotgun to kill the bastard next morning.
9.30 am. Breakfast. All meals are included and the choice available at the buffets is endless. Why, therefore, Danilo would choose to eat Vegemite sandwiches is a mystery to me. Remind him to check his mental condition upon return home. We are being joined by a regular crowd of young Aussies and Kiwis and the day's activity options are being carefully considered.
10:00 am. We opt for a visit to the Mini Club, where Noah enjoys the full attention of Mickey, Dui and their team. Although they speak no German and Noah no English, it seems to work quite well. Father and godfather sit in the shade and watch proceedings from the background.
11.00 am. Noah heads for the trapeze. This is a serious 'circus school' run by Ross and his team that allows young and old to learn - and show off - their acrobatic skills. It looks reasonably harmless from down below but having climbed up there causes many a grown man weak knees. But most kids tackle it with little fear. Even young Noah - not always the bravest of the brave - has a go at it several times before a belated feeling of fear overcomes him and we have to get him down the ladder in tears. A proud achievement nevertheless.
11.30 am. Pool games. Our favorite is water polo, where there appear to be no rules. It's like Rugby in the water. While goal scoring - and counting - is rather arbitrary, the entire exercise is very tough physically (especially if there are Australian 'killer ladies' on the other side).
12.30 pm. The daily poolside dance. This became as much routine as brushing our teeth in the morning. What happens is that, as the pool games are finished, everybody around the pool is encouraged to get out of the water, out of their chairs and alongside the pool to "swing their hips". Admittedly, it often looked rather pathetic, particularly in regards to the many 'fat Europeans' I was referring to earlier, but Club Med has this great tune (they play the same three songs EVERY day), which got everybody moving in some way or another. It was Brazilian and went something like this: "A-Boom Boo-a, di-bi-di-bi-di Boom-Boo-a" - I just loved it, even though that might not speak very highly for my musical taste at this point.
1.00 pm. Lunch. Back to the buffet, back to the infinite choice (although there was no Vegemite for lunch). We indulged in everything from mashed potatoes to Korean noodles. Most importantly, however, the bar was now open since beer on tab and bottled house wine was now freely available. I definitely need that, since the daily task of feeding Noah a few vegetables turned into a major struggle every time. Mostly, we were joined by our regular friends like Steve the Kiwi, who taught us such great indigenous language like "For crying down the bloody sink" and "Shit a brick".
2.00 pm. Time for a nap. By now, Noah was seriously tired, having been active non-stop since the squirrel action early in the morning. This, of course, gave daddy and the godfather, who had obviously again indulged themselves too much with the 'complimentary table wine', a great excuse for a power nap. I wonder who needed it most...
4.00 pm. Beach volleyball. Some refreshed from a few hours' sleep, some grumpy from having rudely been awaken by yet another squirrel, we headed for what I considered the sportive highlight of the day - beach volleyball. Counting on the participation of a few regulars like Vincent, the Belgian Hammer, we made our daily pilgrimage down to the beach for an adrenalin-pumped hour of great fun in the setting sun. While the quality of the game varied from day to day, we never missed our share of sand in the face and always left happily exhausted afterwards.
5.00 pm. Back to the Trapeze. The trapeze was now open for 'the big guys', although many of them didn't look as brave - or as stylish - as did the kids earlier in the day. I myself found great satisfaction in this 'sport', since it combined a bit of excitement with a dose of physical discipline and a toss of showmanship into a great afternoon pursuit. In the scope of a week I learned the "Knee hang "(catch and return), "Hawks off" (catch and return) and some other funny trick (which I caught but failed to return). I even received a certificate to proof it! The key to all of this, as I was told repeatedly, is simply TO: RELAX. I did, but probably too much, since I missed that last return...
6.00 pm. Pre-dinner preparation. Shower for everybody, to get that sand out of your body from the 'beach burial' I failed to mention earlier. Since we were all guys, this did not take too long, but still, getting Noah to put the shirt on with the label at the back always required a bit of extra time.
7.00 pm. Pre-dinner games. The highlight of this particular evening section was clearly the beer drinking competition on Thursday, which (surprise, surprise) I voluntarily entered. It was five of us against five of them, one after the other, with me being last. Our team fell hopelessly behind and it came to me to make up the points by winning a crucial standoff by emptying a glass with a straw. Needless to say, Colani sucker-power prevailed and the teams were now tied. It thus required a final confrontation by the strongest drinkers of each team. Having volunteered again, I was pitted against an Australian who had obviously had his Adam's apple removed in some cruel operation. Before I blinked, the guy's glass was empty.
7.30 pm. Dinner. With my self-esteem seriously damaged by the defeat in the beer drinking competition, I immediately set out to practice me drinking ability at the open bar during dinner. Apart from the free-flowing alcohol at Club Med, I must emphasize at this point that their food selection was always exquisite, both in terms of quality and diversity. While some of my room mates and friends did suffer a bit from an upset stomach at some point or other, I would entirely attribute that to the fact that their intestines have probably not seen a single bacteria twelve months prior to coming to Bali.
9.00 pm. The Kids Show. Thursday, again, was a memorable day when Noah performed on stage with his fellow Mini Club members and G.O.s. His rendition of a native Indonesian fairy tale (I guess that's what it was) was impeccable and moving at the same time. Talk of a proud godfather...
9.30 pm. The 'Real' Show. After the kids' show, it was our turn. Danilo and myself were hired for the 'Men in Black' part of an elaborate 'Titanic' performance on Thursday night. How exactly the Men in Black fit into the Titanic plot was a bit of a mystery to me, but by that time I was sufficiently drunk not to worry. However, the entire play was great fun - even when watching from backstage. Superbly choreographed by the G.O.s and chaotically implemented by the G.M.s (the guests), the play caused standing ovations by the crowd.
10.30 pm. The Trapeze Show. No sooner had I finished my Men in Black part was I whisked off stage to the Trapeze, where I was supposed to perform the "Hawks Off" in a late night performance. The key part to this performance was not my acrobatic skills, but my outfit - essentially some very tight red pants and nothing else. I thought it rather inappropriate for children to be watching this. Although this had now been a fairly long day with fairly large quantities of alcohol in my blood, I still managed to perform the "Hawks Off" reasonably well. I did fail to catch the return, however, and plunged straight for the net in a spectacular finish. Relax, I guess...
11.30 pm. A few last drinks at the bar, which - thanks to Club Med's totally moronic internal payment system - cost something like five blue tickets, two reds and one green. I still don't know how many greens it takes for a blue or how much this Monopoly paper is worth in the real world. Never mind. Noah was way past his bedtime and it was time to wrap things up.
12.00 am. Time to go to bed. Load the shotgun for the squirrel next morning and enjoy the well-deserved rest after another busy day in paradise.
