, sad day
occured back in May '99 when I entered the island paradise
After getting over the culture shock of the hordes of Balinese 'hawkers' trading their wares on every street corner, their snapping cases opening and shutting so often as to resemble a crocodile at feeding time, I started to get a taste for haggling, arguing and generally thinking I was a bit special at street trading.
Soon I would leave my hotel filled with a rush of adrenaline at the 'tasty' deals I was going to pull off in order to purchase countless fake watches, ornaments, baggage, linen - you name it I fucking wanted it and I wanted it cheaper than the man before me.
Sometimes I would leave the hawkers broken men as they literally spent half an hour rowing with me just to come away with a few pennies more than they had paid for the goods.
In fact, I know for a fact that on at least one occasion the poor fellow sold the watch to me at less than cost just for good luck!
For four weeks I continued (with some not inconsiderable help from the gazelle) to feed my new hobby, filling my newly purchased carpet bag (£4 worth £40) with half of Taiwan whilst laughing a demonic laugh at the misfortune of my 'rivals' on the streets.
When I look at my actions in the cold light of day I can only wonder at how I managed to get so 'in the zone' and worked up over what, in most cases, came down to a disagreement over no more than probably 40 pence (65 cents).
The average Balines adult male earned on average around £30 a month ($45) and here I was determind to keep their extra-curricular earnings as low as I possibly could just in order to sate my own ridiculous craving to own truckloads of imitation jewellery which I didn't really want in the first place.
Still, if it helps to even the balance a little bit, you'll be pleased to learn that a week after my return to British soil that my bulging carpet bag of ill gotten gains was promptly stolen out of the back of my car with all my booty ensconsed within its spacious storage areas!