Bali's Got Talent

This is a picture of a German traveller we first encountered on the slow boat to Lombok, a week or so ago. Let’s call him Klaus. My first impression of Klaus was not favourable: a traveller of indeterminate age, he sat on the seat next to mine and for the next 4 hours repelled me with his frowsty, unwashed aroma. Then we got off the boat, went our separate ways and I rejoiced. It wasn’t to last. A week later we were reunited with Klaus, somewhat predictably, on the boat back to Bali. His long blonde hair was tied back in a lank pony tail and he was decked out in staple traveller garments: free flowing, ‘ethnic’ print shorts, a mysterious pendant made of stone or shell and work and dusty sandals. We were sat on deck, upwind from him thankfully, but this time he made a far more serious sensory assault. Klaus had a recorder, of the type usually favoured by 10 year old girls, and for 4 hours he sat broodingly on the side of the boat and played such classics as Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On.

As the hours rolled by, my distress grew. To Joe’s embarrassment (sorry Joe), I ostentatiously put my hands over my ears and glared at him, but my passive aggression was blithely ignored by Klaus, who was no doubt experiencing recorder-music induced euphoria. Towards the end of the voyage he instigated a duet with a Balinese guy with a guitar, but even Klaus could see that a recorder/guitar rendition of Hotel California was never going to work and the session fizzled to a halt as the boat finally groaned into port.

I bring your attention to Klaus because in many ways he embodies everything that is embarrassing and awful about travellers and travelling. In his native Germany, Klaus no doubt conducts his life in a moderate and Celine-Dion-free sort of way; it’s only when a few thousand miles separates him from his native shores that he becomes a grotty, recorder-playing berk. People like Klaus irritate me, and there are plenty of them.

Joe tentatively suggests that I should try to be more tolerant, but I can’t help but be incensed. And anyway, I think that not pushing Klaus overboard and throwing his recorder in after him was extremely tolerant of me.