Expat Celebrates First Anniversary of Paying £18 for Cheese in a Tropical Country
Bali expat celebrates his £18 cheese anniversary, sparking an underground dairy movement among the lactose-deprived elite.
BALI, INDONESIA — British expat Oliver Jennings marked a bittersweet milestone this week: one full year since he first paid £18 for 200 grams of supermarket cheddar.
“I knew moving to Bali would change me,” said Jennings. “I just didn’t know it would be this... dairy-less.”
Jennings, who previously considered £3 for mature cheddar “a bit cheeky,” found himself last year in the imported goods aisle of Supermart Bali Luxe, holding a vacuum-sealed block of Tillamook Sharp. “I hesitated for a moment. Then I remembered what my therapist said about self-worth. I bought it.”
The £18 transaction, marked the beginning of what locals are calling “The Great Cheese Reckoning” among Bali’s Western expats.
As imported dairy prices continue to rise, a black market has quietly emerged to meet demand.
Known locally as “The Brie-lluminati,” a covert network of foreign residents has taken to WhatsApp groups named things like “Cheesus Take The Wheel” and “Dairy Godmothers.” Wedges of contraband camembert, off-market Emmental, and rogue Red Leicester are exchanged in carparks, eco-villages, and yoga retreats.
“Last week, a guy sold me a wedge of Gouda hidden inside a hollowed-out pineapple,” said Martina, a German raw-food chef turned cheese runner.
Authorities have largely turned a blind eye, choosing to focus instead on people vaping outside the designated zones and tourists illegally parking their scooters in sacred rice fields. However, tensions are rising. One incident in Canggu ended in minor injuries, when two digital nomads reportedly fought over a tub of cottage cheese brought in via a diplomat’s luggage.
Experts say Jennings is not alone in his affliction. Many expats suffer from what psychologists are now calling Post-Cheddar Austerity Disorder (PCAD), a condition marked by prolonged staring at the dairy section, and sobbing when someone mentions “Tesco Clubcard prices.”
“Cheese is more than food,” explained Dr. Leslie Brunton, a clinical therapist who recently relocated to Bali. “It’s a cultural cornerstone. A memory of rainy evenings and discount blocks of Red Leicester. Without it, the Western psyche begins to fragment.”
Jennings says his joy now exists only in memory. “It’s like I’ve lost a part of myself. I go to the grocery store, and there’s a little sign that says ‘Imported Dairy – Price May Vary.’ That sign haunts my dreams.”
While Indonesia shows no signs of reducing import tariffs, many expats have resorted to more creative methods of coping. Some have adopted veganism, while others have started micro-farming goats in their backyards, with mixed success.
Jennings, for his part, remains cautiously hopeful. “I’ve learned to ration now. One cube per dinner party. I sniff the wrapper sometimes when I feel sad. I’m not saying it gets better. But you learn to survive.”
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