Falling in love in Bali.

I've done a lot of falling in love recently and its really taken the puff out of me. But what can you do when you've been to the beautiful island of Bali and some of your heart has stayed there. Parts of my heart have been dropped in the blue waters just off the Gili islands and been eaten by sea turtles. Some has been stolen by naughty monkeys in the monkey forest at Ubud. Some of my heart got left in the hotel shuttle bus with the long eye-lashed giggling Balinese guy who hummed out-of-tune to the radio every day. Some of my heart got swept away with the plates in Naughty Nuri's rib shack, to be licked clean by hungry travellers. Some drifted away bumping into rocks while white water rafting, and now floats between the steep palm tree covered slopes of the valley, driven under by tumbling waterfalls. I gave some of my heart away in return for the birthday cake from hotel Tepi Sawer and the polo shirt given as a gift to my Fiance. I gave some in payment for the bronze statue of Ganesh and the detailed story of his life written by the shop assistants. And I left bits of my heart all over Bali as my offerings to the gods, trod underfoot on pavements, by fat god statues, ones with big sharp teeth, ones with big hanging breasts, on walls, in temples, in restaurants in shops. So you'll see there isn't much of my heart left for London.