Bringing things full circle. 5 years ago, I had left my 11-year relationship and was about to start a new job that ended up propelling my career in new and very good directions. It was a transition point. I was in Bali. It was my first solo trip. It was momentous. I sat at the bar of an Italian restaurant on my second and last night in Bali after a massage at Jari Menari, and I met my surfer friend Jake, who’s become an oddly important person in my life.

So as I was going through my usual routine of where to stay when I left the Bukit a few days ago, it turned out my friends were all staying in Seminyak. I booked a room at the Four Points Sheraton there.

As my Uber made its way there, it all suddenly felt very familiar. It was in the certain winding of the streets and character of boutiques, the quality of the narrow sidewalk. I am usually too clueless to really take in my surroundings, but I knew I had been there before. My mind flashed into a feeling of walking down the street feeling foreign and tentative in dodging cars. I felt a shadow of my past self sitting inside watching it rain – downpour in a way that only happens in Asia, in fact. I was transported.

Suddenly, I felt my intellectual brain and emotional brain on alert and searching. I looked to the right to find it, and there is was. The Italian restaurant where I had sat 5 years ago nearly shaking unsure and new to the feeling of being independent and traveling alone, uncoupled. Ultimo was the name of it. The bar was a rectangle with seating on 3 sides, and I had sat at the third barstool on the side furthest away from the open kitchen. The only closest to the entrance.

I decided to repeat that night last night in order to gain some symmetry. I thought it was my penultimate night, but it was also my actual last night in Bali like it had been many years ago. (It’s a good thing I checked my flight details this morning because I could have missed it all.)

So…last night, after my massage at Jari Menari, instead of meeting up with friends, I walked back down the same road to Ultimo. I sandwiched myself between a cigarette-smoking older French couple and an older Australian woman (also smoking). Without thinking, I ordered a half bottle of white wine that the Australian lady recommended (it wasn’t even on the menu). I ordered a pasta trio. It was almost compulsive. When it arrived, I realized (I think) that I was eating the same meal I had eaten many years ago, sitting in the same seat (only seat that happened to be open). Weird. There were a few people around who looked like they might want to chat me up, but I was elated from my surf class yet introspective and wanted to be alone. I was engrossed in my phone.

Bookends.

Bye, bye Bali.

I hope this is a good inflection point, the start of a good new chapter, book, or series.