That’s Paula Gillham, a 64-year-old Sydney pensioner and mother of two who came to Bali three years ago with just one acquaintance living on the island. Gillham smiles often, is dressed youthfully in a short dress and seems perfectly content in her adopted home, where she now has an established social network. On a part age pension, she rents a $10,000-a-year, two-storey home at Kerobokan with a swimming pool facing emerald rice paddies, and has a daily home help (pembantu).

At $100 a month, the pembantu makes Bali life seductive. “She cleans, cooks, washes, irons, runs messages, pays the bills… she found me this house,” enthuses Gillham, a three-time divorcee and retired shop manager. Then there’s the gardener and pool man, the $6 massages, the constant dining out.

Maybe it’s that permanent on-holiday sensation, the tropical sun, affordable spas, ready Balinese smiles, exotic Hindu ceremonies, but Bali has become a mecca for retirees wanting the good life – or at least, a quality of life they could never afford in Australia. Many who claim they could barely make ends meet in Australia can live like lords here. One Australian visitor described it as a colonial paradise, one reeking of the last days of the Raj.

A growing colony of retirees are able to call Bali home under a retirement visa available to Australians aged 55 or older who can fully support themselves. The one-year visa, which costs $1000, can be extended every year until five years has elapsed, at which time they can apply for a permanent stay permit. However there are restrictions: visitors on the retirement visa cannot work, must employ an “Indonesian maid servant” and must be able to prove that their living expenses total $US18,000 annually, close to the full Australian pension.

Once there, nagging worries can surface about healthcare and living arrangements as old age approaches, isolation from family and lifelong friends, and a sense that in emigrating they’ve burnt their bridges, at least in an economic sense. Not to mention worries about the recent spate of assaults and robberies targeting “wealthy” expats (more on this later).

But Gillham is content with the expat life and adheres to its catchcry: if you can’t work, you must do something useful in Bali; you shouldn’t just loaf in the lap of luxury. Gillham’s circle of friends include women – many Australian – dedicated to charities, particularly the Bali International Women’s Association, which keeps inmates at Kerobokan’s infamous jail clothed, fed and health-smart, at least to some degree. Today, Gillham, in her BIWA role, has made hundreds of sandwiches to deliver to the jail. The Bali Nine heroin smugglers and convicted marijuana trafficker Schapelle Corby rely on BIWA’s weekly support visits, but, says Gillham, the Indonesian inmates are more in need. “Most of them just want us to visit; they’re lonely.”

Gillham eats out a lot, sometimes at cheap local warungs, sometimes at smart restaurants, although with the exorbitant taxes alcohol – apart from the local Bintang beer – is too expensive.

When she first arrived here, Gillham considered it only a base for travelling. “I will keep my little flat in Dover Heights [eastern Sydney] until I need to sell,” she reflects. “It’s some stability.” A seasoned traveller, courtesy of AirAsia’s cheap tickets, her next trip is to Southeast Asia next month with an expat pensioner friend. Next year they’re off to Mumbai and Malaysia. What’s not to like?

BALI is a great leveller, with expats from unlikely backgrounds connecting in cafes and clubs. Those who would be hard-pressed to pay the weekly grocery bill in Australia can afford to eat out frequently here. And let’s face it, you’re not doing too badly as a pensioner if you can afford a pembantu, a chauffeur, a swimming pool, and the odd posh restaurant meal.

How can you live like that in Australia? “You can’t,” says Melbourne expat Frank Andrews. “You live on a third here of what you need in Australia.” The opportunity to slow down – and, no doubt, his 38-year-old Javanese wife of two years, Sandra – has given Andrews, 64, a new lease of life. Though not retired, he says he’s proof of the island’s health benefits, which he attributes to a stress-free lifestyle.

He’s ditched a host of medications including heart tablets and blood pressure pills after his diabetic condition abated. “I don’t need them,” he boasts. “I have a different lifestyle, ethics and diet.” Having sold his house, he has no ties to Australia. Divorced in 2009, his two adult daughters and four grandchildren in Australia visit annually. “I won’t go home. I’m having a great experience here.”

Quitting his printing business in Melbourne, he carved out a career in Bali several years ago as a business and villa consultant, advising foreigners on investment pitfalls. Clients have become his closest friends. “That’s what wonderful about Bali – your work contacts merge with your social life. The friendships I’ve made here are much stronger than those I had in Australia.”

Though the self-confessed revhead didn’t ride a motorbike in Australia, he now owns a second-hand Harley-Davidson, joining the Bali Harley Owners Group and establishing a set of Indonesian friends. The day-trippers roar around the island on weekends with a police entourage in tow, cutting through traffic like VIPs. Andrews likes nothing better than to zip off with his wife on the back. When they see him, “my Australian friends say, ‘Here comes the old grey fart on the Harley’. I honestly believe I’ve added five to 10 years to my life. I reckon I could get to 85 and still be very active because of the way I’ve changed my life.”

John Burridge, a fit-looking 69, lives frugally, but it’s not an entirely ascetic lifestyle. Savouring his evening tipple – the local brew, arak – at his favourite warung and relishing the social contact is a daily high point while the sun sets over the surf at Batu Belig, near Kuta. At $2 a shot, arak is a pleasure he can afford. “And where else can you enjoy such a stunning view from a restaurant at that price?”

Burridge, who lost his wife, Anne, in 1988, sold his house in Tasmania to live on Bali four years ago. He rents a small flat for $3500 a year in the southwest area of Canggu from his Balinese landlord upstairs. “I liked the climate, the people, the food… I thought I may as well move. I like the quiet life.” He visits his three daughters in Australia about once a year but friends have drifted away. “Friends thought I was mad to come… I am isolated and insulated here.”

Despite a strict budget, he says he’s much better off in Bali than in Australia. “I live entirely on the pension. It’s ample. I don’t go out socialising much, sometimes for a meal. I can get a decent meal and a drink for the price of a cup of coffee in Australia. There I’d be classed as a poor pensioner, but here I’m not.”

The strong exchange rate and a part UK pension – about $2300 per year – stretches his total income to $18,000. He doesn’t have health insurance. “If I need it, I will return to Australia and use Medicare. I’m nearly 70, I feel quite healthy, I don’t have any major health problems.” He relies on local dentists and GPs, paying about $5 a visit.

After years spent caring for his wife, who had multiple sclerosis, Burridge says it is his time to enjoy life. “I can see myself living here for the rest of my life unless something untoward medically pops up. Your perception changes here. I don’t need a big plasma TV, a four-wheel-drive, or the trappings of life.”

CHRIS Lauder is dolled up in fire-engine red leggings, trendy black dress and heels. Sipping cocktails at an expat gathering, she says her son – a corporate chef who works in Indonesia and lives near her in Uluwatu, in the island’s south – complains he can never get hold of her.

The gregarious 64-year-old divorcee from Victoria recounts one of her trips to a remote village for the breast cancer charity Pink Ribbon, which is a branch of Bali International Women’s Association. Eyes shining, she describes the pomp laid on for Bali’s visiting Governor I Made Mangku Pastika and wife Ayu.

As a BIWA member, she is enrolled in its inexpensive Bahasa Indonesia classes and uses her business acumen as a former fashion shop owner and wool promoter to assist with charity events. Voluntarily, she also manages a dress shop in the fashionable Legian area, the Bali Black Orchid Boutique Plus Size Fashion Boutique, catering to Aussie tourists with fuller figures. “They’re thankful to find something that fits them here.” She loves the social interaction.

On divorcing eight years ago, Lauder’s options included living with her daughter and family in Queensland or in a gated retirement village, neither of which appealed. She chose Bali three years ago for a better quality of life on the pension. She has no superannuation. But a weekly rent of $52 and a weekly grocery bill of no more than $50 provide considerable financial freedom. “If I’m out at lunch I have warung food. But I can afford to go out with friends to a nice restaurant sometimes, which I couldn’t do in Australia. You can remain in a hole, worrying about which bill you can afford to pay next, or try for a better life. I acted before I was too old to do it.”

Despite budgeting assiduously, she’s always out, and employs an occasional chauffeur. She even manages to save, joining visiting Australian friends on tours. “In Australia, if you don’t own your own home, the weekly pension of $350 for rent, bills and food is not enough. Probably a lot more people would be here if they realised they’d be much better off.”

Lauder is another who swears by the island’s youth-enhancing characteristics. Yet life in a society geared to tourism can be challenging for the elderly. A full-time nurse can be employed for about $300 a month but the standard of care, depending on needs, may not be up to scratch. There are no retirement homes in Bali, though Craig Beveridge, Perth part-owner and operator of the private Bali International Medical Centre Hospital, has ambitions to open one.

Lauder thinks about the future: “There may come a time when I can’t look after myself. Where do I go when I get too old? There are no guidelines for pensioners.” Under Centrelink regulations, pensioners must return to Australia every six months to retain the pension. Fearing the pension will cut out, she says, “I will get to the stage where I will be unable to travel.”

Paula Gillham says insurance costs about $1000 a year but a lot of people don’t keep it up because they can’t afford it. A brief spell in hospital that cost several thousand dollars convinced her insurance was crucial.

EXPAT Sydneysider Robin Dougherty, 73, who has holidayed on Bali for a couple of decades, built a $5000 granny flat three years ago beside her daughter’s rented house, a gorgeous, rambling property and tropical garden in the heart of Legian. “If Sarah [her daughter, a single mum and journalist] had not been living here, I probably would not have come.”

A divorcee and mother of four, Dougherty could not fund her retirement in Sydney. Though she worked until the age of 70 she could barely afford to go out. She left her rented apartment and arrived on her daughter’s doorstep with a couple of suitcases. It was the start of a new life. “I was very excited,” she recalls.

Most retirees, including Dougherty, say a lack of assets probably rules out a return to Australia. “Realistically I can’t, I don’t have a home there. I will probably die here,” she says. As we chat, the pembantu pads through the open-air house delivering freshly laundered clothes to Dougherty’s apartment. Another maid cleans and there’s also a gardener. Dougherty, wearing smart white pants and top, employs a tailor who whips up a wardrobe at minimal cost, saving on off-the-rack garments. “She’s making something for a wedding now.” What retiree wouldn’t jump through hoops for this type of lifestyle? “It’s fantastic,” admits Dougherty, a keen cook. “When you cook, she’s there cutting up things. When you walk away, she cleans up after you. If you have people over, she’s cleaned the table and washed the dishes by the time you’ve finished the meal.”

There have been a few health scares, however. Since living here, Dougherty has suffered dengue fever, pneumonia and a broken wrist. “It made me realise the vulnerability of being here and being sick,” she says. Travel insurance costs have tripled for those over 72 in the three years she’s been on the island. Retirees told The Weekend Australian Magazine they would rely on Medicare for serious conditions. “The thing that worries me is if I have a stroke and I need to be medically evacuated,” frets Dougherty. The cost is up to $65,000.

Dougherty also bemoans the ban on paid work. “I haven’t come to terms with not going to work anymore,” she says. She is involved with many fundraisers and is lobbying for a home hospice facility.

Men? Lauder and Dougherty would welcome a congenial dinner companion but both women are fiercely independent – and wary – and would rather read a book than compromise. Says Lauder: “The men have 18-year-old Bali girls. I’m happy with my independence and my dog. But if I did meet someone it would be nice.”

THE trouble with paradise, of course, is that it can never last forever. In recent years many of Bali’s problems – water shortages, frequent electricity blackouts, dodgy phone and internet connections, poor sewage facilities, traffic congestion – have increased along with the much bigger inflow of tourists and untrammelled development (this year the island will welcome more than 2.1 million tourists, up from 1.3 million in 2001, despite the bombings by Islamic radicals in 2002 and 2005). Starry-eyed newcomers also need to learn the concept of jam karet or “rubber time”, where appointments made often don’t eventuate and tomorrow never happens.

Much more troubling is the recent surge in violent crime – robberies and assaults – particularly against foreigners. In August, a British tourist was stabbed during a villa break-in in Kuta, the fourth foreigner, including an Australian woman, to be targeted that month.

Just as we were going to press with this story, Paula Gillham’s villa was broken into and $100,000 worth of jewellery stolen. She is now under no illusions about the dangers of the island, particularly after a friend of hers was raped by an intruder after stepping out of the shower (after the police asked for a fee to file a report, the friend has even questioned the value of going to them). While these incidents have deeply upset Gillham, she has no plans to leave Bali at this point.

Nor, for that matter, do any of her friends. Many don’t even register with the Australian Consulate in Bali – an Australian government recommendation because of the high threat of terrorist attack – perhaps because they’ve married Indonesians or relinquished all ties to their homeland.

As with everything in life, it comes back to weighing up the risks, particularly for retirees as they get older and frailer. It would be foolhardy to believe that Bali offers the same level of medical and aged care as Australia. Reflects Lauder: “At the moment life’s good, but long-term I don’t know about my health. I don’t believe in burying my head in the sand.”

In the meantime, Lauder is revelling in something she insists she doesn’t get as a retiree in youth-mad Australia: a sense of dignity and respect from the people around her, whether young or not-so-young. That, for her, is the real icing on the cake.”BALI makes me feel young. I don’t know what it is, or why. There’s a freedom. And then I walk past a mirror and go, ‘Oh shit.’?”

That’s Paula Gillham, a 64-year-old Sydney pensioner and mother of two who came to Bali three years ago with just one acquaintance living on the island. Gillham smiles often, is dressed youthfully in a short dress and seems perfectly content in her adopted home, where she now has an established social network. On a part age pension, she rents a $10,000-a-year, two-storey home at Kerobokan with a swimming pool facing emerald rice paddies, and has a daily home help (pembantu).

At $100 a month, the pembantu makes Bali life seductive. “She cleans, cooks, washes, irons, runs messages, pays the bills… she found me this house,” enthuses Gillham, a three-time divorcee and retired shop manager. Then there’s the gardener and pool man, the $6 massages, the constant dining out.

—————-

from http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/features/paradise-on-a-pension/story-e6frg8h6-1226146772640

“Loving and serving yourself and others,

is the key to happiness, fullfillment and inner peace

This is the greatest secret of all.”

I talked with my seatmate Rachel on the flight to Singapore. She was 6G, I was 6H — Cathay Pacific Business Class. I was sitting up front thanks to my Platinum status and a big stash of Frequent Flyer Miles. Rachel was up front thanks to the global bank she worked for, which after a brief display of frugality was now back to flying even its junior employees in Business.

Rachel was the same age as me. She had traveled to much of the world, but hadn’t really seen anything. It was always running back and forth, flying to meetings, going to business dinners, arriving late at night back in the big Asian city where she was based before getting up early for more meetings.

It was obvious that Rachel was discontented, wanted something different, and had no shortage of intelligence and drive. Yet she was the first to admit that major change was unlikely. She had a good job. Her employer flew her Business Class and paid for her taxi from the airport so she wouldn’t have to take the bus. She had spent years applying herself to earn two finance degrees, and besides, what would her family think if she turned her back on a successful career?

–

Why is it so hard to break free of a life that’s good enough to pursue the life we truly long for? We like to think these things are complicated, but the root cause is pretty simple: change is hard, so we tend to put it off until it becomes urgent. When the time comes to change, it becomes an overpowering presence; something that must be resolved one way or another. Maya Angelou put it this way:
The need for change bulldozed a road down the center of my mind.
In the AONC book I told the story of Sean Ogle, who left his job as a financial analyst with no real backup plan in place. The most interesting part of his story (I think) was when he met with his employer to propose a remote working agreement. Sean thought it was a win-win — he could see the world while still earning a regular paycheck and benefits, and his employer wouldn’t have to replace the position. Unfortunately, the employer thought otherwise. Not only did they turn down the proposal, they also presented a counter-proposal: You’re fired. They gave him two weeks to wrap things up, and he was so shocked that he didn’t know how to respond at first.

Thinking about it later that day, Sean was bothered by how the exchange had played out. He typed up some notes with his side of the story and sent them in a memo to the boss and H.R. rep. The response was quick: Forget the two weeks — you can leave right now.

Eighteen months later, Sean has turned out to do quite well for himself. Nice work, man! But from the outside, people tend to focus on the end result rather than the process, which is always filled with uncertainty. When Sean said farewell to his first real job after college, he honestly wasn’t sure what would happen next — he just knew that something had to change.

–

When the time comes where you’re willing to make a big break, you may find yourself facing down fear and trying to see through to the other side. Just remember: once you start going down the road of change, you don’t always know where you’re going to end up. This very reason is why many people remain stuck in discontent but unable to find their way out.

Will it be easy? Probably not, at least not if it’s worth doing. Will everything be OK? Maybe, maybe not. That’s why it’s scary.

Many people, like Rachel, will not be able to leave behind what is comfortable in pursuit of what is compelling. Others, like Sean, will find a way “come hell or high water” to follow the path of no return.

.

http://chrisguillebeau.com

I recently read about a woman who needed to clean out her fish bowl, but could not find a container in which to place her two goldfish. So she filled up her bathtub with a couple inches of water and placed the fish in the tub. After cleaning the bowl and returning for the goldfish, she found them swimming in a corner of the tub in a circle no bigger than the fish bowl.

Compare yourself to the fish in the tub. Do your fears and habits and the patterns of your life keep you swimming in a small circle?

Or do you live dangerously, exploring the potentials of your existence?

Margaret Stortz says, “It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.”

When making a new decision about your life, Osho advises, “… don’t choose the convenient, the comfortable, the respectable, the socially acceptable, the honorable. Choose something that rings a bell in your heart. Choose something that you would like to do in spite of any consequences.”

Dangerous ideas? For sure. You could screw up big time. Or you could find yourself walking down a new path of aliveness.

If you’re swimming in small circles and life isn’t as fulfilling as you want it to be, consider your level of aliveness. Aliveness is excitement, enjoyment in doing what you do. It’s that blood-pumping exhilaration, challenge, joy, stimulation, and pleasure that makes life worth living.

If you’ve traded freedom and aliveness for security, there is no time like the present to consider adding some joyous new challenges to your life.

My Vodafone mobile contract is due to expire in 4 months so they offer us the chance to upgarde early because we are a long term customer.

So today we picked up our iPhone 4

The great thing as well is that we currently have an iPhone 3GS and they are listed on ebay for sale.

So, we get the new iPhone 4 and we get to sell the iPhone 3 – what better can you get ??

iPhones are so good – I always used to wonder why people used to rave about them – once you get one you know !!

Throw a Bomb into Your Business

Jim McCann, the CEO of 1-800-Flowers spoke at one of the SuperConferences, he said he needed to be a BOMB-THROWER …

to occasionally open the doors, throw some dynamite in, blow everything up and build something better in its place.

He also said few businesspeople are willing to do that.

Most cower in fear and settle for plodding.

DO YOU WANT TO FEAR?

DO YOU WANT TO PLOD?

Liquid Image 5MP Underwater Digital Camera Mask D1

Liquid Image Video Mask – D1, 5MP

• 5 megapixel digital camera
• 720 x 480 D1 video recorder (30fps)
• 16MB internal memory with MicroSD expansion slot
• Suitable for depths up to 20m

Keep your hands free and still take amazing underwater pictures with the worlds first swim mask with integrated digital video/camera.

This 5.0 MP camera mask makes it easy to share your underwater adventures.

————————

This info is from http://liquidimageco.com/products/cameras/312/index.html

The Wide Angle VideoMask Series D1 is an integrated dive mask/camera that records D1 video (720×480) at 30fps along with 5.0MP still images. The depth rating on this new model is 40m/130ft, which covers depths reached by certified recreational divers. The mask has a micro SD/SDHC card slot. The memory can expand up to 16GB, to record thousands of still images or approximately 5 hrs of video. The camera operates on 4x AAA Batteries. Estimated Lithium battery performance is 2200 still images or just over 2hrs of video.

The mask features lever style buttons which are easy to press while wearing diving gloves. To record a photo or a video, simply turn on the camera, choose the mode, then press the shutter button. LED lights inside the mask indicate the mode to the user. The buttons are positioned along the upper right corner of the frame and area easy to access. The goggle lenses are made of tempered glass.

Estimated battery performance is 2200 still images or 2:20 hrs of video. The new wide angle will solve the issue of not completely framing the subject which some first time Camera Mask users have experienced with the original 54 degree lens. The wider angle POV camera will capture a larger field of view and therefore allow the user to think even less about operating the camera while snorkeling or scuba diving.

Downloading images is as easy as plugging in the mask to your PCs or Macs USB port (USB cable provided) and pressing the power button. The included otional software (PC only) allows you to edit your content. A microSD/SDHC card slot allows you to add memory up to 16GB for additional pictures or videos. Requires four AAA batteries (included).

Day 8 – Friends are Friends Forever
By Joel on Friday, November 5th, 2010

Life is not about money.

It’s not about fame.

It’s not about power.

And it’s definitely not about ourselves.

“Our lives are all about the impact we have on other people;
how we become an instrument of blessing to others’ lives.”

.

How does this fit in “your” world ?

.

.

,

Coffee, Coffee and more Coffee

I must say I love my coffee – but I’m starting to get too fat !!
(weighed myself – 105kgs !!!)

So yesterday I decided to cut back on my coffee’s.

Yesterday I only had 2 cups, and today only 3.

I’ve also decided it’s time to stop snacking so much – so yesterday I ate properly, and today was good as well (with the exception of having a few pikelets both nights, but that won’t be happening again for quite a while)

Not a bad effort, even if I do say so myself.

I’m sitting here writing this at 3:40am Wednesday morning, and I reckon I can feel the benefits already … my belly isn’t bloated like it’s been lately, so all is on track – Fantastic !!