After spending almost 45 minutes in my Grab Taxi getting here, despite it being a short drive, the traffic finally let up and movement was achieved. Eating ramen in this heat is irresponsible, but I calculated in at least 10 minutes of wait time between being seated and eating, which was enough for the AC to cool you down a touch. 

Housed in a charming building on "tourist lane", with every corner taken up by yogamericans in their late 40's hoping for a Julia Roberts experience, I naturally gravitated to a table away from the hushed whispers about acai seeds and stool consistency. 

On the odd occasion you find miracles in the strangest places.

This was not one of those occasions.

Home comforts are not only for travellers with a fear of coriander, they also apply to those that spend more than half the year away from home, and therefore have cravings of normalcy that creep in. My life has always been about spending the summer months in Europe and winter months (as many snowbirds do) trapped in the constant rays of a tormenting sun. 

Look, I know you're in Bali to try Balinese food, visit a temple, prance around barefoot because you think it's  sacred, buy a sarong at the nearest stall for 10 times the real price, almost drown learning how to surf, put off that morning meditation alarm until your holiday is over, and maybe, just maybe, meet the person of your dreams... well.... those things can happen, but one thing that doesn't happen too often in Asia is finding an above average Mexican-ish spot.

I started eating at places Bourdain went to years ago, knowingly wanting to see what his palate was like, or if his local friends were short-changing him. On some occasions the food met with muted grief, on others divine raptures of falling angelic gang-bang euphoria shaking the very foundations of my soul. ​

Walking down to rent a scooter from my hotel, I happened upon this cafe with a nice outdoor seating area that was well enough shaded from the midday sun. Bali is hot these days, hot enough to make me reconsider my aversion to head-wear. 

I started off with a cooling cocktail of lemongrass, ginger and vodka. It took the edge off a blistering day filled with airport arrivals, grab taxi's, bag draggings and room unpackings.