It was a lazy afternoon on October 13, 2011. A cup of tea had just been poured, as we sat on the porch of our guesthouse in Ubud, Bali. The teenager was fast asleep inside.
Our teacups gave us the first hint that this moment in time would be transformed by an earthquake. We were bemused by the behaviour of our tea as it began to convulse onto the saucer. Then we noticed a few other odd things; the walls seemed to be moving and small chunks of concrete debris fell from the ornate Balinese walls. Time stood still as seconds stretched into minutes. Wake up Mischa, we have to get out, now! The teenager would not budge, adding an extra dimension to our adrenalin. As we bolted down the outside stairs, the concrete steps swayed in time to the movement of the gusting palm trees and the metal hand rails shuddered.
At 6.2, it was a big one by Balinese standards and was followed by a few aftershocks. The locals were really afraid, although had been trained from childhood to evacuate buildings quickly. In true Balinese style, they were genuinely concerned for their foreign guests. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured.
Thanks Ailsa for the travel prompt this week.