Our last full day in Bali didn’t exactly sparkle with adventure. Matthew was running a temp and feeling wiped out, so he became patient zero of the villa while I tried to keep the day ticking over. I felt awful there was nothing I could do to make him feel better, other than keep things quiet and hope rest would do its job.

The laundry run at least came with its own highlight: two little pooches who were absolute opposites in character. One sat stoic, gazing off into the distance like he was contemplating life’s bigger questions, completely uninterested in the bustle around him. The other was flat on his back, paws in the air, looking straight up at me with the universal request for a belly rub. Between philosopher pup and belly‑rub enthusiast, the whole errand turned into a comedy sketch. Laundry suddenly felt less like a chore and more like a two‑dog show, complete with wagging tails and a captive audience of one.

Breakfast was leftover nasi goreng, which I’m now convinced is the breakfast of champions. Cold rice, fried egg, sambal still packing a punch, not glamorous, but exactly what you want when the day starts slow. Honestly, I’d put it up against any hotel buffet.

I squeezed in one last swim, determined to soak up the full sun on my skin before heading home. The water was warm, the sky blazing, and it felt like a farewell lap of the villa pool, my final chance to bronze up before reality calls.

Later I treated myself to a massage, which was so relaxing I actually dozed off. Pretty sure I woke myself up snoring. Not my finest moment, but proof it did the job. The therapist didn’t even flinch, which I’m taking as a sign they’ve seen it all before.

The rest of the day was quiet: some TV, checking in on Matthew, and a lot of wishing he felt better. It wasn’t the big finale we’d imagined, but sometimes holidays throw you curveballs. And if you have to slow down, Bali isn’t the worst place to do it.