We arrived in Bali in party mode: with my 23rd birthday half gone, and a reputed party scene to rival anywhere in SE Asia, we figured chuckles would quickly abound. Arriving into Kuta, the main tourist destination, it was instantly apparent that we would not be disappointed. The main drag was chocked with blonde bronzed australians - their equivalent of Cancun. We met up with a mutual friend who had other friends visiting from the states, and had a couple nights out which ended with sunrise. after two nights, the appeal of kuta was drained, and we decided to head out to the quieter coast for a surfing detox.
We rented motorbikes and surfboards for a week for about five dollars per day, and left town with the intention not to return until our flight to singapore. We rode south, towards the slew of beaches and reef breaks that make Bali a premier surf destination. Our first day was spent at a break called The Impossibles, which can be monstrously large, but wasn't. The sun was relentless, and the balmy ocean provided no relief. The waves were powerful and incredibly easy to catch. Bali was turning out to be quite a delight.
The day took a funny turn when we went back to the bikes. Ian's motorbike was refusing to respond to his pleas: the key had escaped a zippered pocket at some point in the day. Fretting over the potential theft of the bike seemed foolish, so we strapped both boards to my 125 cc honda and made for Kuta. Turns out that the spare key had been lost in similar circumstances some months ago, and a new one had to be cut. The next morning, we resumed our quest for exhaustion, humiliation, and sunburns.
We stayed at a little guest house at Uluwatu, one of the most famous surfspots in the world. Not quite understanding the reason for it's world classiness, we ran down to the cliff with our boards to catch a couples waves before sunset. oh boy, it is a good thing that you can see the waves before you get to the water - it would have been a most foolish waste of life. the waves were double overhead barrels, and a relentless current threatened to sweep away everyone returning to the beach. we enjoyed our beers and fried noodles. Over the next few days our skills increased markedly, as we visited Dreamland, Belangan, Pedand Pedang, and Froggy one. Stupendous.
We were also able to participate in the most relaxing festival in the world: Bali's Nyepi festival. To bring in the new year, the Balinese and all of the guests to their island do absolutely nothing for 24 hours. This is so all of the demons who haunt the island get bored and leave. Thus, from 5 am to 5 am, we were restricted to our hotel, with a prison sentance attached to any music, fire, attempts at escape, or rambunctiousnious. Fortunately, the Mama Jenny Smith's guest house is connected to the property of the director of Ripcurl (a very significant surf company), and we had access to his glorious swimming pool. And mama, as she requested we call her, awoke at 2 am to cook us our meals before the demons left. She is just terrific.
Bali, although poorly represented by Kuta, is a magical place. if we had had more time, we would have loved to have visited the north of the island. supposedly, that is where the best of bali is to be found, albeit without the fun water sports.
On to singapore.
We rented motorbikes and surfboards for a week for about five dollars per day, and left town with the intention not to return until our flight to singapore. We rode south, towards the slew of beaches and reef breaks that make Bali a premier surf destination. Our first day was spent at a break called The Impossibles, which can be monstrously large, but wasn't. The sun was relentless, and the balmy ocean provided no relief. The waves were powerful and incredibly easy to catch. Bali was turning out to be quite a delight.
The day took a funny turn when we went back to the bikes. Ian's motorbike was refusing to respond to his pleas: the key had escaped a zippered pocket at some point in the day. Fretting over the potential theft of the bike seemed foolish, so we strapped both boards to my 125 cc honda and made for Kuta. Turns out that the spare key had been lost in similar circumstances some months ago, and a new one had to be cut. The next morning, we resumed our quest for exhaustion, humiliation, and sunburns.
We stayed at a little guest house at Uluwatu, one of the most famous surfspots in the world. Not quite understanding the reason for it's world classiness, we ran down to the cliff with our boards to catch a couples waves before sunset. oh boy, it is a good thing that you can see the waves before you get to the water - it would have been a most foolish waste of life. the waves were double overhead barrels, and a relentless current threatened to sweep away everyone returning to the beach. we enjoyed our beers and fried noodles. Over the next few days our skills increased markedly, as we visited Dreamland, Belangan, Pedand Pedang, and Froggy one. Stupendous.
We were also able to participate in the most relaxing festival in the world: Bali's Nyepi festival. To bring in the new year, the Balinese and all of the guests to their island do absolutely nothing for 24 hours. This is so all of the demons who haunt the island get bored and leave. Thus, from 5 am to 5 am, we were restricted to our hotel, with a prison sentance attached to any music, fire, attempts at escape, or rambunctiousnious. Fortunately, the Mama Jenny Smith's guest house is connected to the property of the director of Ripcurl (a very significant surf company), and we had access to his glorious swimming pool. And mama, as she requested we call her, awoke at 2 am to cook us our meals before the demons left. She is just terrific.
Bali, although poorly represented by Kuta, is a magical place. if we had had more time, we would have loved to have visited the north of the island. supposedly, that is where the best of bali is to be found, albeit without the fun water sports.
On to singapore.
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