Less than a day in Bali and I have almost killed myself with two lattes, carbon monoxide poisoning and the shock of an internet connection that doesn't require me to read half a book between clicks. Here for a couple of weeks to manage Mick's Place in Bingin - my second stint after a successful trial run in December - and to escort the in-laws on their first visit to our island home. It is clear that I am not the only one with a desire to be in Bali. After three months of village life and quiet nights with a green smoothie, a book and my husband, the crowds, noise, traffic and sensory stimulation is freaking me out. Is there an official name for a fear of traffic jams?