Bali Once More

Trip Start Aug 20, 2007
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Trip End Jul 04, 2008


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Flag of Indonesia  ,
Wednesday, June 4, 2008

The ferry ride introduced Levi and I to Wari a successful architect from the capital of Indonesia. He was searching for a development site on Lombok. On arrival back in Bali we ended up spending the night at his quant villa amongst the rice paddies outside of the city. We had to be back in the hustle and bustle of Bali for a couple of days so Levi could take photos of his targeted surfers. During that time we ran amuck. Much surfing was had at the hot spots around Bali like Padang Padang, Kuta Middles, Airport Lefts, and Canngu. My surfing began to improve in the consistent surf, however we have yet to score epic conditions (brah). The journey to the spots often requires riding around on motorbikes. I had my horrifying fill on my first day arriving to Bali. I overdosed on them on the pot holes and gravel hills of Lombok, and I refused to rent my own for a couple of days back in Bali. After Levi got fed up with me being the monkey on his back I manned up and rented one, drove around the streets for five minutes and promptly returned it. Katut the motel manager trying to rent it out to me looked at me disgustedly. I didn't care. I was a monkey on Levi's back for another trip out to Uluwatu. On the way I took note of all the young girls and boys cruising around on the death deliverers. "If they can do it, so can I. I am a full grown man. Act like one," I thought to myself as I rode "bitch" behind Levi on the motorbike. The next morning I manned up and rented one. Breathed a few prayers and off we went to Padang Padang. The trip was a success. The surf was looking too fast to make any sections. Levi and I cursed at it and then decided to paddle out anyway. It then became a very fun session with long left racetracks burning down the flat reef. I ended catching several really fun ones. Levi did as well. Stoked on the day we headed back to our hangout warung and ate Nasi Goreng (Fried rice with veggies and an egg) drank a cold coke and watched the sun descend towards dusk. The local ladies in the warung started to massage me as I ate. I made sure they did this for about two minutes before I ever so slowly explained to them I had no money for the massage.
The streets of Kuta, Bali are narrow and packed with vendors selling all types of ripped off designer clothes, sunnies, worthless gadgets such as toy pistals that shock you when you try to pull the trigger. Dozens of restraunts, bars, lounges, massage parlors, surf shops, and travel agencies line the streets. "Hello friend! Sunglasses?" one would shout out at us. "Hey! You are my friend, my best friend!", Levi and I would both agree joking back to them. Often times we would end up sitting on the street corner with the vendors making up handhakes with them. The jovial Balinese would just laugh and carry on with us. Pretty much every transaction had Levi and I joking with them for about five minutes before the business was done. We usually hit up the same joints for massages, meals, and hanging out, so we knew the staff at all the spots. The evenings were spent getting massages from Yanti and Mini, relaxing at the Chill Out Lounge with Stephanie, Yarra, Yaya, Ramon, and Simona on big bed like sofas and swings made of bamboo, or maybe shooting pool at the pub across the street from the massage parlor. All of this was done at nickels on the dollar. Indo, cheap as, Mate.
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