"Bali-Hai..... Colorado".

I LOVE to butcher songs, so that particular snippet is a rendering of Mountain High by John Denver. However, Bali Hai is actually a beer brewed here in Indonesia, though it has nothing on the far and away favorite Bintang. Ok, so I'm off to a shaky start. Let me sum up the last several days.

I flew into Bali from KL arriving at around 2000 on the 4th. Indonesia issues 30 day visas to US citizens upon arrival, though unlike their brethren in SEA, they don't make do with the requisite official stamp(s), but rater have a full page sticker that they print with your particulars on the spot for a fee of US$ 25. Pretty fancy shit, I must admit: though in no way necessary in the grand scheme of things - especially seeing as how it can be renewed/reissued by just hopping across the border and back thereby extending your stay indefinitely. No matter.
I caught a cab into the town where I planned to stay that evening, sharing it with two Finnish girls, and managed to scout out my losman (motel/hotel/homestay/bungalow/thingy) after negotiating the warren of back alleys which comprise the main lodging district. Josh was due to fly in a little over two hours earlier, so I made off for some dinner and a cold Bintang.
When the time came for him to be due, I ambled up and down the street between the losman and an agreed meeting place, hoping to run into him eventually. As it turned out, there were TWO establishments of the same name and ownership: Taman Ayu I and Taman Ayu II. I registered in the former, and he in the later, which is why he never turned up at my place. We somehow crossed paths in one of the side streets, and made a bee-line to the nearest purveyor of Bintang where we proceeded to catch up over several of the fine pilsners.

The next day, I checked into his losman, the Taman Ayu II, and we rented two motorbikes to cruise around town on. Setting out for the beach, we managed to get thoroughly lost on the impossibly congested and un-signposted streets. Magically, we stumbled on a lovely little stretch that was more off the beaten path where we lunched and rented beach chairs. Josh had just come from 4 weeks in Java where he had been studying Indonesian every day and staying with a local family at a homestay. Additionally, he had learned to surf, albeit with room for improvement. So, not only were his language abilities a plus, but we immediately agreed that I too must learn to surf. Board rentals on the beach for the both of us for two hours set us back a walloping Rp 60,000: $US 6! The waves were good for a beginner, though a little bigger than I would have liked. After several laughable attempts to place myself upright, and several turns in what the locals refer to as "the laundry", I finally managed to surf! Let me tell you... FUN STUFF. After two hours of swallowing sea water, fighting the "laundry", gasping for air, endless paddling, and constant chafing from the sex wax, I was ready to call it a day: a good day, with a commitment for many more to come.

However, since we had the motorbikes, and were already relatively sick of the mini Vegas atmosphere of the Kuta area, we decided to set off for the central part of Bali to a town called Ubud: the Arts capital of the island. We paid for our room and the scooters for two more days, packed a few items in our daypacks, leaving what we didn't need locked in the room, and set out on the open road for Ubud.

*** Photos of the following can be found at my Buzznet Bali gallery page ***

Now, I want you all to know, that the intrepid traveler must make decisions based on many factors: guidebooks, hearsay, instinct, prevailing winds, etc... I can't overstress the importance of being able to say, "fuck the guidebook", I want to live a little. In this day and age, guidebooks are overcautious to a fault in many respects. For instance, my roughguide to Indonesia stresses that renting a motorbike, though the most interesting way of seeing Bali, is far too dangerous: the local drivers and traffic being the number one concern, the local police and the requisite bribes another. I lived and drove in Guinea and Burma (not to mention D.C.), so I think that the "hairy" aspect of driving too be a bit exaggerated. As for the police, well, as it happens, they were a non-issue - but we were stocked with small bills just in case. Mom, I know you are shaking your head and crying out "you twit", however, sometimes, you gotta live a little. Besides, where's the adventure without a little adventure?! So moving along, we set out for Ubud with our daypacks, out bikes, and a lot of moxy.

The trip took not much more than an hour and a half, as Ubud was only 40 km distant. However, negotiating the seldom signposted roads and battling a sudden downpour took a good deal of time. Along the way, we sought refuge in a roadside warung (generic term for restaurant - in this case a shack) which a friendly fellow motorcyclists directed us to. We sat there for near half an hour sipping thick Kopi Bali and making friends with the owner and his buddies - again, hats off to Josh's Indonesian schooling. After the rain let up a bit, we set out again for the "open road", and eventually arrived in Ubud after winding our way up the road past all the Arts and Crafts studios.

We were able to find a losman with relatively little difficulty given that it was the low season. The only contention in choosing one was really what kind of setting and view they offered. We settled for a nice little place called the Hai Homestay - a collection of bungalows nestled around a central courtyard, strewn throughout with religious structures and decorations. I'm pretty sure that we were the only guests at the time. Our host's name was Manku and proved to be congenial fellow and quite conversant in English.

That first day, we ambled about town on our bikes and took in a lovely meal. Nothing much to speak of in terms of action, but we were able to get a feel for the more "traditional" aspects of Balinese architecture and local life, even though Ubud too has become a tourist mecca of sorts - though in a more "cultural" sort of way.

After dinner, we went for a nighttime cruise on the bikes on the nearly deserted streets, taking in long winding roads that led us further and further out of town. Racing along through the cool night air, we were happy as clams (if clams knew of the internal combustion engine) and could have motored along for hours. However, the cruise started out as a search for one of the pool tables housed in a roadside shack which I had spotted on the ride in. Eventually, we did indeed run into one, and moseyed on in like two helmet clad cowboys from some strangely butchered island western. The local youths (I love that term, but you have to say it like Joe Peschi in "My Cousin Vinnie": y-ooo-tt-es") were playing a version of cutthroat which they scored and gambled on with playing cards. I won't go into the details, but it seemed interesting. Josh and I enjoyed two ice cold Bintangs while making jolly asses of ourselves butchering the Indonesian language and trying to get out points across. After the beer, it was considered prudent to be going again, lest we should find ourselves in some sort of Balinese billiards-n-beer bang up. One thing the guide books need not mention is "don't Bintang and Bike". So it was back to the losman where I taught Josh the basics of Gin over some more Bintang. I'm sorry to say that he picked it up a little too quickly for my liking, though I was still up over Rp 200,000: god I love their funny money.

The next day, after breakfast and coffee, we set out to the local market to purchase ponchos for the day trip we were about to set out on (you see, you can teach a jackass a few new tricks: poncho in rain = no wet!). That accomplished, it was to the road again for the uphill climb to the volcano Gunung Batukaru. Another relatively short hop of 38 km, though again, taking more time than usual for the distance. Rain again it did, though we were prepared this time: be-helmeted and be-ponchoed, we looked like some weird cross between Korean War infantrymen and Batman on a clown-bike: good stuff, I wish I had photos of that, DAMN!

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I have to cut this short for now as the entire island of Bali is shutting down for their most important religious ceremony, Nyepi. Beginning at 0660 tomorrow, nothing and no one is allowed to stir for 24 hours... I still have provision myself for the day and get dinner for tonight before heading out with every other living soul for a night of unchecked revelry, the main purpose of which is to get blindingly drunk, thereby enabling one to sleep for the better portion of the day of silence (or at least those of us who don't practice the Hindu faith - and there are a lot of us). So, adieu, and....

TO BE CONTINUED!