Journal: Indonesia, 07 July 2002 Aside from being delayed, my flight on Garuda Indonesia airlines was relatively uneventful. I thought it was interesting that my meal was served with a metal knife and fork. But then again, what does a national airline for a predominantly Muslim country have to worry about? Upon my arrival, I was beset by scavenging taxi drivers. They circled the fresh-faces newcomers like vultures around a wounded animal. After receiving a quote of US$10 for the three-kilometer journey to Kuta, I walked to the main road outside the airport and flagged down a taxi that cost a little over US$1. Because it was dark, I was keen to sort out accommodations as quickly as possible. After rejecting one guesthouse because it reeked of mildew, I settled on a neighbouring guesthouse that is highly recommended by the Lonely Planet. My US$8 room is not very nice. I have NOT stayed in crap (I mean spartan) accommodations for quiet some time and, considering that this is the last stop on my trip, I reckon that I'll move to a nicer place tomorrow. Soon after checking in, I met Bob (from Washington). Bob is a frequent visitor to Indonesia and a great resource for finding out all sorts of information (cheapest internet, cheapest laundry, places to eat, and so on). I'm not sure why he keeps coming back here because his one overriding piece of advice was not to, under any circumstances, trust any local person. After hearing his harrowing tales of scams and robberies, I was a little nervous when setting off to explore the area. I should, however, have realized that Bob was a tad neurotic when he told me that he was pretending to be a Canadian when talking to locals. After enjoying a delicious meal at a roadside stall and enjoying banter with some lovely locals, I made a wonderful discovery... they sell Tim Tams in Bali. Happy days are here again! Tim Tams are my favourite biscuit in the entire world. We discovered Tim Tams in Australia and New Zealand and life has not been the same with out them. I am already scheming ways to take as many Tim Tam as possible back with me to the States. Indonesia, 08 July 2002 I moved from my spartan accommodations into the pampered confines of a beach resort. The resort has beautiful landscaped gardens with a couple of nice swimming pools. One of the pools even has a swim-up bar at one end. I am staying in a nice air-conditioned room with a lovely adjoining veranda. Now this is what I call traveling! Seriously though, it is nearing the end of my trip and I reckon that I do deserve a little comfort for a change. And, even though it is expensive for these parts (costing about US$22 a night), it's not a lot of money in American terms. I spent most of the day wandering around Kuta. I literally could not walk for 10 meters without some local person asking me if I wanted to buy drugs. When I declined their offer, the next question invariably was if I wanted to buy a young lady. It got to the point where I wondered if there was anyone from Kuta who was not involved in both drug trafficking and pimping. The only things I did buy were a couple of pairs of custom-made dress shoes. Hopefully, they will turn out as expected. At a total cost of about US$50, I reckoned it was worth taking a chance. In the evening I met Kate (my love interest from the boat trip down the Yangtze). We wasted no time carrying on where we left off by getting absolutely plastered and painting the town red. Kate is a lot of fun, constantly making the most of her quick wit. But best of all, she really understands the offside rule in football. What more could a man want? At one stage this evening, I was emerging from the toilets in Paddy's Pub when I heard a shout of "Conor" and saw a blurred vision of someone running towards me. Next thing I knew, this person had jumped onto me, straddling their legs around my waist and their arms around my neck. When he pried himself from me, I saw that is was a passing acquaintance from our time at the World Cup. While drinking on the streets of Roppongi, Brian and I had spent some time hanging out with an Australian doorman named Ryan. It was this passing acquaintance, whose name I had forgotten, that greeted me with such affection. Indonesia, 09 July 2002 I suffered through the hangover from hell today, swearing that I would never drink again. Kate, on the other hand, enjoyed a few cold beers and worshipped the sun for the day. In the evening, we went for a romantic meal in a tres-posh restaurant. The meal was outstanding and cost a reasonable US$50 (if you think in American terms that is). I started off my meal with a harmless sangria or two, before I knew it, was leaving some Aussie club at God-knows-what-time in the morning. I think that Kate and I are a dangerous combination. Indonesia, 10 July 2002 Bali is more of a "sun holiday" destination than a "travel" destination. Beach bungalows, rather than hostels, are the principal accommodation offering. Bars, clubs, and western eating establishments abound. There are three disparate groups of people vacationing here: honeymoon couples, surfers, and young partying people. Where I fit into this scheme of things is not clear at the moment. Two aspects of life in Bali intrigue me. The first are the daily offerings that the local people make to the Gods. A fresh offering of flowers, food, and incense adorns each vehicle, dwelling, and place of business. These colourful offerings are also placed at intersections and apparently, to me at least, random locations along paths. The second is the local preoccupation with sweeping. More often than not, when one enters a restaurant or store, the proprietors will be sweeping the floor. Engrossed in a methodical sweeping exercise, they will ignore customers until snapped from their trance-like state. It sounds ridiculous, but it really is the case. The highlight of the day was a trip down the coast to a beach that specialized in serving fresh seafood at sunset. The sunset itself was a bit of a disappointment, but it was a nice romantic evening. And the seafood was close to orgasmic in quality. Indonesia, 11 July 2002 We enjoyed another wonderful lazy day, doing nothing of note and loving every minute of it. Indonesia, 12 July 2002 We got up at the crack of dawn to catch a nauseous bus to the East of Bali, then a excruciatingly slow boat to Lombok, then a bus to the North of Lombok, and finally a boat to the island of Gili Air. The total cost for the entire 11-hour journey was 115,000 Rupiah (or US$14). The main features of the initial leg of the journey across Bali were beautiful rice terraces, bad roads, and grotesque public statues. They really do have the most bizarre statues at their crossroads in Bali. These elaborate and ornate statues would look at home in a setting such as the Trevi Fountain, but look absolutely ridiculous at a road intersection in the Bali countryside. On our way across the island, Kate pointed out that our driver was well versed in the basic tenets of driving in Asia:
The differences between Bali and Lombok are immediately apparent. Bali enjoys a wonderful reputation as a holiday destination because of a combination of great beaches, beautiful scenery, rich culture, and friendly people. Lombok boasts similar beaches and scenery, however falls way short when it comes to the culture and the people. This is directly attributable to the fact that the people on Bali are Hindu, whereas the natives of Lombok are predominantly Muslim. We spent only a few hours on Lombok itself, but even that was too much time. Every person that we encountered demonstrated a tremendous appetite for ripping us off. They work in coordinated packs, telling boldface lies in an attempt to sell anything and everything at vastly inflated prices to both unsuspecting and suspecting travelers. The experience left a very bad taste in our mouths. Although I must admit that one young soccer fan did provide me with a measure of amusement. Because I was wearing a Japanese soccer t-shirt, the young man asked me if I was Japanese. I think it is fair to say that there is nobody in the world that looks less Japanese than yours truly. However, not wanting to overly tax the young man's brain, I concurred that I was indeed Japanese. Thankfully we left the rip off merchants behind when we took the boat from mainland Lombok to the island of Gili Air. Gili Air is a lovely relaxing island with a diameter of approximately one and a half kilometers. There are no roads or vehicles on the island. A few paths cross the island and a number of horses and traps provide transportation. Accommodation consists of rather basic bungalows, each with little deck sporting tables, chairs, and hammocks. There is almost no nightlife on the island, making it the perfect escape for a couple. Indonesia, 13 July 2002 Today we took the time to walk around the outside of the island. It is a nice walk along a lovely sandy coastline. The island is relatively undeveloped, with nice stretches of wild growth between the restaurants and bungalows that are dotted around the island. Because of the lovely weather, we decided to stop for a little liquid intake whenever we came across an inviting bar or restaurant. Before we knew it, our one-hour walk around the island turned into a great 10-hour pub crawl. We spent a reasonable amount of the day doubled over with laughter, no doubt giving the other more civilized couples something to talk about. Over the course of the day, we realized why the men on this island are so different from those on Lombok... the locals here are stoned all of the time. This makes them very easy-going and not too bothered about trying to scam tourists. They grow copious quantities of ganja in the middle of the island and spend most of their waking moments engaged in relaxed conversation, while displaying a vacant look on their faces. Indonesia, 14 July 2002 We enjoyed another walk around the island today, this time catching a spectacular sunset on the west side of the island. There is little to do on this island except relax, eat, and drink. This traveling life sure is tough! Indonesia, 15 July 2002 Today we journeyed back to our plush resort in Kuta, Bali. Unfortunately we had to endure the scheming and conniving people of Lombok along the way. As soon as we got back to the mainland, we were once more beset by the scavenging hoardes of local people. If they cannot sell something to you, they attempt to barter. They will barter for anything, with foreign t-shirts appearing to be a prized possession. I was amused when a very young boy, after exhausting all of the usual sales and bartering routes, then attempted to barter some of his jewelery for western condoms. On our way back, we took the fast boat to Bali. This was definitely a good move, affording a greater level of comfort and taking far less time. When we arrived back in Kuta and didn't waste any time before embarking on another night of drinking and merriment. But then, in the wee hours of the morning, we had our first row. Of course, Kate was entirely in the wrong :-) Essentially Kate had a little too much to drink and couldn't handle it. Indonesia, 16 July 2002 Today I enjoyed the ever-so-smug position of moral supremacy and, of course, made the most of my position. After milking the situation for all it was worth, I finally relented and forgave her. We then spent to day making up. Indonesia, 17 July 2002 My days on Bali are limited and I have done little or no sightseeing. So today, I joined a tour that encompasses the Kintamani volcano. When booking the tour, the travel agent tried to convince me to instead hire a driver for 300,000 Rupiah. He argued that the flexible nature of a driver-based tour would be much better than the rigid scheduling of a bus-based tour. I stuck to my guns and insisted on the cheapest tour (costing 70,000 Rupiah). He then tried to convince me that I should upgrade and pay 90,000 for an air-conditioned van. Again, I stuck to my guns and went for the cheaper option. As it turned out, a young lady from Leeds (called Tracey) and I were the only people taking this tour today. We ended up touring the island in an air-conditioned Sports Utility Vehicle. The highlights of our tour were a thoroughly entertaining Barong dance performance, a visit to some beautiful rice terraces, donning a sarong to visit a few temples, and eating lunch on a terrace with a spectacular view of the Kintamani volcano. After the tour, I rejoined Kate and we went out for another wonderful meal. The food in Bali really is wonderful. We ate a meal in the Kori restaurant that was as close to being orgasmic as is possible. Indonesia, 18 July 2002 I joined another tour today in an attempt to see of much of Bali as possible in my remaining time here. Kate and I went for the 70,000 tour and ended up sharing an air-conditioned van with two young ladies from London. Our first stop was Tanah Lot - the most sacred temple on Bali. I had great expectations for Tanah Lot and was sorely disappointed. The first source of disappointment was learning that tourists are not allowed to enter Tanah Lot itself and the second source of disappointment was the fact that the area currently looks like a building site, as the Balinese develop the area to maximize the return from tourism. We then went to visit a Monkey Forest. The Monkey Forest is, in fact, a shrine housing a large number of wild monkeys. And "wild" is the operative word here. The monkeys are not in the least bit afraid of humans. It is actually the other way around, with the monkeys terrorizing the tourists. If you have food of any description, the monkeys will take it from you - even if it is in a bag that you are carrying. You must also be careful with items like sunglasses and cameras. If you give the monkeys even half an opportunity, they will take whenever they can from you. One of the girls in our group had a monkey leap onto her and dig its claws into her clothing for no apparent reason. We were all very relieved when we finally left the Monkey Forest. Indonesia, 19 July 2002 Today is the last day of my trip - it has been an incredible odyssey, with so many great experiences along the way. It is also my last day in one of the most idyllic locations of the entire trip - the paradise that is Bali. Return Journey, 19 July 2002 - 20 July 2002 My return to the States was a depressing 39-hour ordeal involving flights from Denpasar to Bangkok to Taipei to Anchorage and finally to New York. You will be glad to hear that, somehow, I managed to avoid deep vein thrombosis along the way. I was delighted to see Brian and Sheila (my brother and sister) waiting for me when I finally arrived in New York. Although they didn't offer me much sympathy for my horrendous journey, instead muttering something about "poor Conor" and "Bali". Spending: $740 for 12 nights, including the following:
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