Bali in 4 nights........

3 April 2015 - 6:51pm

Last night was a late one with friends, both of the flesh & body and barley & hops variety. Shut my eyes @ 1 with a bit of a buzz and dreading the 5am alarm. Made it to the airport by 6:30 for my 8:40 flight via Air Asia, my head still fresh with the memory of their airliner crash only a few months ago. 
We landed safely in Bali, a place I had been both in 1999 and all the way back in 1987 as a young pup. The second I saw the ocean again as I walked down the flight stairs to the tarmac, I knew I didn't want to leave.....ever. There's a magic here that's impossible to iterate. Maybe it's the way they've managed to preserve their culture all these years yet catch up to modern times, all evident in a stroll down a sandy dirt road. The women still carry things atop their heads, just like I remember, but now some do it while checking Facebook on their mobiles. Talk about multitasking! 

My driver stopped @ a place called Pasir Putih, which means "White Sandy Beach," yet most of the sand was volcanic. Not sure how that works. And by diverting my eyes at the very last minute, I missed seeing, by the grace of God, another un-circumcised German weiner. Why is that Germans think they can change out of their speedos right there on the beach for all to see their pride and joy? Why is that acceptable on the beach? By the way, if you're wondering why I said "another," just relax. I've been on a lot of beaches with Germans.....


After some breath-taking rice paddy views, I told the driver we'd call it a night. We each got a simple room in a local home-stay.....bathroom with no roof and breakfast included, all for 11 bucks. A Bintang beer and a plate of mie goreng topped off the night. What a place! Not one for using double negatives in the written form, I'll make an exception here: You can't not love this place......


4 April 2015 - 7:23pm
My friends, it gets no better than banana pancakes for breakfast in Bali. That and some sweet tea and the silence of a beach bungalow morning gets the day started right. I met two of the cutest little girls in the world at my homestay. They must have been 3 and 5, and they were playing with makeshift toy cars made from a water bottle and a beer can, hand-carved wheels made of scrap wood, and "driven" by a bamboo stick that was tied to a string. Dad tends to them all day, and after having 3 already he now desperately wants a boy. When he is old and the girls are all married and have their own families there will be no one to care for him like he cares for his widowed father. He dreads the thought of it. His wife works all night in a hotel kitchen then comes home after a 12-hour shift and cooks and cleans. No time for anything. Life is paradise here for a foreigner with a couple of bucks in his pocket, but there are real people here, struggling to survive day to day to make ends meet. But you'd never know this unless you take the time to get to know them.. 

Today's biggest highlight was that my driver passed a spot that I remember stopping @ 28 years ago. I even have a pic of that moment with the German guy I toured the island with by motorbike back then. It's such a stunning location on a high bluff overlooking a turquoise cove below. I stood on the very same spot today not only in awe of the view but in deep sentimental recollection of the moment I stood there 28 years prior. I was literally caught in a time warp for those 15 minutes. An eye-welling moment for sure that is impossible to describe..... 

Later I made it to the north coast, where the sand is all volcanic from the 1883 Krakatoa eruption. The eruption was so powerful it produced huge tsunamis that killed more than 36,000 people. The explosion is considered to be the loudest sound ever heard in modern history. They say people heard it 3,000 miles away.
The rain came down in sheets soon after I arrived, so I decided on a 1-hour full-body oil massage. This set me back a whole 7 bucks, shucks. Good recommendation from a local proprietor to whom, incidentally, I admitted that I had been there back in '87. He then yelled to his dad: "Dad, what year was I born?" "1991," replied pops. He then laughed that I was there before he was born. I then laughed that he didn't know what year he was born. Again, part of the magic of Bali. 

Now @ dinner some Germans are ordering a caesar salad and chicken with mushrooms. Those Germans again. I guess "when in Bali, eat like a dumb foreigner." I'll be looking for a local speciality instead tonight: crispy duck.
Getting here is the hard part, people.....the rest is as easy and interesting as a banana pancake. P.S. I have nothing against Germans.....

5 April 2015 - 8:40pm

Last night before bed and after a delicious plate of tuna satay, I did something I rarely do anymore, or at least not since I moved to sandy, over-lit Dubai: I looked up at the sky at night. Wow! I saw actual stars! The sky was absolutely peppered with their cheery brightness, and there was no light pollution to obscure the pride of their beaming twinkles. One of life's simplest pleasures can truly be awe-inspiring. Takes me back again when we set sail from Bali to Perth all those years ago. The sky over the Indian Ocean was a veritable Christmas tree, and I'll never forget how long I lay there on the deck of that schooner just staring into space. Time warp number 2 for me. Not sure how much of this my system can take!

Today was a dip in the hot springs built by the 
Japanese when they invaded Indonesia in the '40s. Have to say, it was a bit disappointing.....the waterfall soon after, however, was astounding. It shot down from about 100ft and swimming beneath it was as exhilarating an experience as I've had in quite some time. The power of falling water is an awesome force.
Kuta Beach, Bali......absolute craziness. Kuta is Thailand's answer to Phuket....there's nothing you cannot get here if you want it. This is not the Bali I came to see, but it's the Bali that has to be seen. Back in '87 there were a few hotels on the beach and mostly just bamboo huts on the beach for accommodation. No more. This place makes Seaside look like Amish country now, and every inch of it is exploited for the almighty rupiah. I cannot wait to body surf again tomorrow. Some of the best here I've ever tackled, and I've taken on some fearsome waves before.
It's funny how foreigners try not to look each other in the eye out here, like they're unwilling to admit that others know about this place too and that they are not some Christopher Columbus on an uncharted voyage. It's definitely as much of an un-written taboo now as it always was.
I cannot help but laugh how many of the people I see walking these streets were not even alive when I was first here. I feel sorry for them that they never saw Bali the way it used to be.

7 April 2015 - 12:11am

Old guys do goofy things. The other day at the hot springs, while everyone serenely enjoyed the warmth of the spring, a older pot-bellied man started doing deep knee bends at the edge of the spring basin. All the bathers noticed him, as his behavior was a bit odd. All of a sudden he did a belly-flop dive straight into the hot spring! The splash was enough to clear about a foot of water from the basin. This brought out more than a chuckle from the mostly Indonesian bathers. I've never actually been in a hot spring before but even my novice eyes knew this was a knucklehead move. I guess it was his first time too. 

Took a morning walk to the beach this morning to check out the waves....and to torture myself if they were breaking well. Not much time before I leave for the monkey temple so I could not have gone out anyway if they were. To my delight the waves were only about 4ft face and breaking fair, so overall not the best surf conditions I've ever seen. Even so I did watch the few surfers jealously and in the process whet my appetite for a potential attempt tomorrow. Do these old bones dare? Can I shake off the dust? See my final post from Bali tomorrow to find out if I took the plunge (not literally!).
I walked down an alleyway near the beach that used to be all trees, narrow sandy paths and bamboo huts way back when. We slept in those huts and fell asleep to the sound of the waves lapping the shore. Perhaps not as rustic as Fletcher Christian experienced but damn close. That same rustic, sandy passage is now all concrete, plaster, glass and metal. I met a local who reminisced with me about old Bali. He even reminded me about how Balinese village women used to be topless in public because that was their traditional "dress." Now, before you book your flights, gents, it ain't like that anymore. The local and I gave each other an empty look and we shrugged in unison. I added a half-hearted "Oh well," not going any deeper into the hows and why's things have "progressed." 

Today was very emotional for me so am going to cut this short. Will share the details tomorrow in my final post from Bali.
P.S. Some local guy just walked up to me in a bar and offered me Cialis. When I said no, he then took a stab at Viagra. Huh? I told you this place had everything.

7 April 2015 - 6:24pm

Our hearts are a vast ocean of possibility and opportunity and the reservoir of our resolve. Our brains are the judge and jury of our heart's convictions and our bodies are the punching bags of the verdicts handed down. On my walk to the ocean this morning I was actually very nervous. What would happen today? When I got to the sea I observed the best of the waves breaking about 100 yards off shore, the ocean amply dotted with surfers.....good surfers. Even in my best days I was not even close to these kids in board skills, and I'd have been a "fish out of water" there among them.....not to mention one big punchline. So yes, I basically chickened out by deciding not to surf, resorting to some light body-surfing instead. I was even too afraid to swim out to the nice breakers without fins, especially with the tide rolling out. When you're staring @ a half century of life, your heart is more like a puddle than an ocean and the body now knows best: If you want to live to tell about it, just do it half-assed. So away I walked from the beach in shame and a bit pissed off @ my pending mortality. Yetty will be glad I didn't surf. 
Twenty eight years ago I booked an economy class passage aboard the train from Jakarta to Bali. The train would eventually stop at the east tip of Java in a small, sleepy town, where I'd then board the ferry to Bali. I befriended an Indonesian guy on the way (Mr. S), who invited me to his home in that small town, Banyuwangi (say that 10 times fast....actually it's not that hard). Mr. S introduced me to his family, which consisted of his wife and 3 young children: 2 boys and the youngest, a 2-yr-old girl. Their house was modest by Indonesian standards, and they didn't have much to offer but their generosity, friendship, and warmth. I stayed with them for an entire week and fell in love with this beautiful young family. 
In 1999 I returned to Banyuwangi to see them with Yetty, as we'd stayed in touch by letter over the years (yes, those paper things we used to seal in envelopes and drop in a big blue metal box). The little boys I first met had now become young men and Raniee, the little girl I bounced on my knee, was now a shy, awkward 14 year old. This time again we stayed for a week, and it was then Yetty's turn to become attached to them. 
Over the following years we stayed in touch intermittently. At first we bumbled through phone calls and an occasional email, which was just starting to take hold. BBM and FB eventually made things so much easier. 
Sixteen years after my last visit, I met Raniee again, now 30, and her beautiful 2-year-old daughter and husband. We ate some delicious crispy duck a few nights ago and reminisced about our common history. Neither Raniee's brothers nor parents could join us, so it was just us and some other good friends. I now bounced Raniee's adorable daughter on my knee and she grew very attached to me, as I to her. Time warp number 3 for me on this trip, as for a moment I was back in 1987 playing with Raniee again the very same way. 
Last night I went to the club where Raniee sings with her band: Funhouse. Her eyes were fixed right @ the door when I walked in apparently in anticipation of my arrival, and she immediately she ran off the stage and gave me a big hug in front of the entire place. I instantly felt like a VIP guest. She showed how honored she was that I came, but what she didn't know was how much more honored I was to be there and see her after all the time that had passed. Funhouse is a slamming rock band that could jam with the best of them, and Raniee can belt it out as if Janis Joplin met Ann Wilson. I was in awe of her talent and presence on stage. 

She calls me uncle now and she proudly introduced me as such to her band. The highlight of the night, and absolutely the most moving, was her version of Alicia Keys' Girl on Fire, which I requested. She hit all Alicia's high notes, and I know she put in extra effort for me on this one. I could not help getting emotional and people noticed. Alicia is one of my wife's and my favorites, and I only wished Yetty was there to enjoy the night with me. The band continued to rock til midnight with Zeppelin, BonJovi, ACDC, GNR, etc., and they had the entire place on their feet. Hugs and kisses ended the night with promises to return (and get Yetty on the stage with her!). 
Folks, these are life's most precious moments. In fact, this entire trip was one big emotional roller-coaster ride that I will forever cherish. I wish you all similar experiences, whether near or far, and the opportunity to take enjoyment from the connections with those you love. God bless....