october 1 2005 : darwin, northern territory, australia
The last couple of days have once again been spent around the boat getting the last of our boat list done. We are actually very close now. There is even a slight possibility that we won’t have anything to do in Bali. We’ll see. The really fun job we did was to once again replace the bathroom waste hose. Seems to be about a once a year job, and it’s not pretty. Seems like every time that I declare a particular job on the boat to be the worst job, another one comes up that I had forgotten about. Clearly though this one is without equal. Ali followed that up by giving the bathrooms a good wash and then going through the entire boat and applying our mold guard to the headliners. No matter what you do there is always mold brewing somewhere.

october 3 2005 : darwin
We just heard the news that there have been terrorist bombings in Bali once again. It’s hard to fathom that there are people in the world who would purposely target innocent civilians, but it seems it is an inescapable truth these days. We thank you all for your concern but we aren’t much for changing plans based on terrorists actions, so Thursday morning we will be on our way to Bali. It should be about an eight day trip, though if the weather is good I’m sure we will stop at Ashmore Reef which is about halfway between Darwin and Bali. Just a big old reef right smack dab in the middle of the ocean. The snorkeling is supposed to be incredible. Plus, I’ll be way overdue for a swim in the ocean by then.

Today we stopped in at the Northern Territories Museum right up the road from us. There was the typical Aboriginal art displays, but also a large section dedicated to Cyclone Tracy which completely leveled Darwin back in 1974. The pictures and news footage were pretty amazing. It was total destruction. In one neighborhood 97% of the buildings were completely gone. The museum also holds Sweetheart, who is a big saltwater croc that attacked a bunch of small boats back in the 70s. He always went after the boats outboard motors, apparently thinking they were another croc making noise. He never actually killed anybody, but people started getting nervous so authorities went out to capture him and have him relocated. Of course the capture didn’t go very smoothly and they ended up drowning Sweetheart by accident. So now the big 17 foot saltie sits stuffed in a museum.

october 4 2005 : darwin
So with that, I guess we are saying goodbye to Australia. As you’ve seen we have met a ton of great people here, from Melbourne at the southern end all the way on up the coast to Darwin in the top end. It’s really been great to meet all of you. Your generosity and interest in our trip have made our visit to Oz the best yet, despite the horrible weather along the east coast and the near death experience of the river bar entrance. Pretty tough things to overcome, but you did it.

Now before we go I need to give them the piss about a few things. First, the people of Australia, and yes I mean all the people, believe everything they have ever seen on television. Of course, a large chunk of that television is directly imported from the States and let’s face it, they love the American way of life over here. I can’t tell you how many stereotypes we have had to talk people out of simply because they had seen it on American television. There is no doubt that if American t.v. ran a story that said that everywhere else in the world besides Australia and the U.S. had been overtaken by aliens it would be all over the newspapers here the next day followed by mass hysteria.

Don’t try and order a coffee, you will be greeted by a blank face until you specify a type (flat white, short black, pudgy yellow). There is no such thing as “a coffee.” I know that is true at the coffee houses back home, but at least you can still go into a diner, order a coffee, and get it.

Import garden hoses and become an instant billionaire. Garden hoses here are made out of this hard PVC type plastic that will not roll up and will not stretch out without kinking up every four feet.

Australia is sort of a strange country in that they have so few black people. It is the whitest place we’ve ever been. We had more black people in our WASPy middle class high school than there are south of the Queensland border in Australia. It’s a fact, I checked it. But the funny thing is that they seem so amazed by the number of blacks in the States. Somebody was just telling me the other day how surprised they were by the footage of the flooding in New Orleans. Not surprised by the devastation, but by the amount of black people.

Australia has the worst pay phones we have yet found in the world. The fact that Telstra has a monopoly in the telecommunications area is no doubt to blame for that. As visitors trying to use a payphone to make all of our calls we found it nearly impossible and incredibly expensive. One time we bought a phone card with $5 on it. We put our 40 cents in the payphone and then used our phone card to call a local mobile phone number. We got voicemail and left about a 30 second message. Then, after dropping another 40 cents in the phone we dialed the number on the phone card and were told we had $2.37 cents remaining. They charge insane amounts of money for mobile phone usage here and seem to charge the person calling the mobile phone double that ridiculous amount. I can’t understand how anybody could afford to use a mobile phone here. I then called my dad back in the U.S. and talked to him for over 30 minutes and still had money left on the card. What kind of sense does that make? Calls down the street cost $2 per minute, calls halfway around the world cost 4 cents per minute. Ali figured it out, and we paid a total of $164,322 AU on phone calls here. Luckily with the exchange rate that is only about $200 USD.

Beer; Australians have some damn good beer, no doubt about it. Coopers Pale Ale being the best. But for some crazy reason they also have what they call mid-strength beer. It is beer that would rank right up there with what we call 3.2 beer back home. You know, the stuff they serve you at baseball games and grocery stores. They actually advertise it as mid-strength and people routinely order it. For some people it is their favorite beer. Of course they make up for the lack of alcohol content by increasing their alcohol consumption. So I guess it all works out in the end.

Don’t even get me started on Vegemite.

That’s it. Australia, you are a great big beautiful country full of the friendliest people on earth. Don’t ever change. Well, go ahead and change a little bit.

october 6 2005 : en route to indonesia
Our visas weren’t supposed to be available until Wednesday, but since we were downtown we stopped in at the embassy on Tuesday instead and found out they were done. So after getting that bit of news we called up customs to see if we could move our clearance to 11 a.m. instead of three. No problem there. The original plan had been to clear out at 3, fill up the diesel and tie up outside the lock to leave early Thursday morning. Now since we could clear out at 11 we figured we’d be able to leave Wednesday instead.

At eleven o’clock Wednesday morning we pulled into the lock and found out that we would be dropping nearly 20 feet since it was exactly low tide. We had a crowd gathered to watch us go through for some reason but still managed to make it without a scratch and without any yelling between us. Clearance was simple, the customs officer didn’t even board the boat, he just asked us for a form he had given us a couple of days earlier, had us sign it, and we were good to go. We filled up the diesel duty-free and then as we were about to go we realized that as it was now exactly low tide there would be a four knot current flowing against us for the next six hours. Crap. So instead of getting a nice early start like we had hoped we tied up to the dock and sat around doing pretty much nothing until six o’clock.

There was this weird guy hanging around the dock the other day who fancied himself a Jesus wannabe. He wore greasy hair, a stringy beard, and a rice sack like a toga. While I was tying the boat up he walked over and asked me what the blue things were on the side of the boat. I told him they were fenders and he said, “Oh, so they’re like weights to keep the boat from tipping over?” I just looked at him and said, “Yep, without them we’d be sunk.”

At six we fired up the engines and were on our way. As we pulled out of the marina the sun was setting and was right in our eyes. There were two markers outside the marina; one a red buoy which is the one we were supposed to stay next to, and the other a yellow marker which marked a dangerous shallow area. We couldn’t see very well, and couldn’t make out any colors at all, so after frantically discussing it we headed for the larger of the two markers. One marker was just a tiny little thing floating in the water looking like it hardly belonged there and the other one was a large buoy. I guess it should have made sense that the dangerous area would be marked with a larger buoy, but it didn’t and we ended up with very close call. We just skirted alongside the yellow marker and saw the depth climb all the way up to six feet. The eighteen foot tides saved our butts there.

After that less than stellar start we were on our way to Bali. The forecasts had continued to show little to no wind so we were a bit surprised when we actually had fifteen knots on the nose for a good portion of the night. Thankfully the waves didn’t build much. By morning the wind had died like it was supposed to and we dropped the sail and put up the bimini side awnings for some added shade.

Around midnight I woke up to Ali screaming. I jumped out of bed and ran upstairs to find Ali standing in the doorway looking at a two foot long fish flapping about wildly in the cockpit. He had flown right past her head as she stood outside having a look around. I’m not saying Ali orchestrated the incident, but the timing was suspiciously convenient as she then got to go to bed fifteen minutes early.

I just asked Ali if there was anything else to talk about, she just rolled her head towards me and mumbled, “It’s hot.” In fact, it is damn hot out here. Even the water temperature is 96 degrees, the same as the air. On top of that we are running the engines to add that extra bit of heat. It wouldn’t be bad if only we were sitting on the beach enjoying a cold beer and a swim. Yikes, day one and we are already talking like that.

october 8 2005 : en route
Three days in and we haven’t shut off the engines. Every day the wind dies down to nothing and every night it slowly picks up to 10 knots right on the nose. Flat seas, sun, and sweat seem to be what this passage is all about. We catch two tuna per day which we release and then I give up trying to catch anything else. Today we actually caught a small shark about two feet long. We got him on the back step and he went nuts, spitting out the lure and thrashing around. I tried to pick him up by the tail but as I did he arched around 180 degrees trying to take a chomp out of my arm so I threw him in.

To pass the time we’ve been lying on the couch reading, talking to the Australian Coast Watch plane as he flies by to check us out, and giving me a haircut; which seems to be our new favorite way to pass the time. Our alternator problem seems to be fixed, although occasionally the RPM indicator needle flutters up and down for no apparent reason. We also haven’t been able to get any weather information because our emailed weather files are coming through corrupted for some reason. Not that it seems to matter much out here. And our progress has been excruciatingly slow with currents of up to three knots rushing against us.

Our first day out, about 100 miles from land we were motoring over a shallow area when our speed suddenly dropped down as low as one knot. For the next five hours we puttered along at an average speed of about 1.8 knots. It was brutal. But we figured once the tide turned we would get the current to run with us. Wrong. Eventually the tide turned but there was no favorable current to go along with it. The rest of the trip has been pretty much the same thing except not quite as strong. Not sure how our fuel is going to hold up at this point.

october 10 2005 : ashmore reef, australia
Some days I just can’t believe where we are or how we ended up here. Today is one of those days. At the moment we are tied up to a mooring hundreds of miles out in the Indian Ocean with not another soul in sight. We pulled in at Ashmore Reef around noon after motoring for 114 hours. We did have a sail up now and then, but the wind was so light that I would guess that the sails contributed about five miles in total. We did see a few interesting things along the way such as a big turtle with a couple of birds sitting on his shell, a whole bunch of sea snakes (which are much bigger than we would have guessed), and a big oil platform shooting flames into the sky all night. But that was about it; five days of nothingness.

Then this morning we started seeing a few trees on the horizon and pulled on in for a break. Ashmore Reef is Australian and they maintain a few heavy duty moorings out here. We tied on and then dropped the dinghy in to cruise on over to the shallow water for a swim and a cool down. The snorkeling was pretty good. Saw a couple of turtles right away and no sea snakes. It really is a cool place to be. Then as I write this and rave about how great and secluded it is here, who should suddenly appear on the horizon but a big old Australian customs ship. No doubt they’ll come and tie up right next to us and then stare at us with binoculars the rest of the day. It just wouldn’t be a proper anchorage without that.

All right, you’re not going to believe this. About an hour after I wrote the above paragraph the customs boat came on over to visit us. And who was with them? A film crew! Seriously. They are from a weekly Australian television show called Border Security and are spending a few days out here filming the customs officers as they go about their business. They asked us if we’d mind if they did a little filming to which we told them that they would have to talk to our agent first. Then we realized that the Post-It note that says, “Get Agent” is still on our fridge, so we just said no problem instead. We had them all on the boat so they could shoot the customs guy sitting with us around the cockpit table discussing Ashmore Reef Park and asking us questions about our trip over here. They even did a little filming of Bum, so now she’ll be famous. What a weird couple of weeks it’s been. So if you Aussies see us on t.v. in February, will you tape it for us please?

october 12 2005 : ashmore reef
So right after customs told us that they have a boat posted here 365 days a year they left and we haven’t seen another person since. Ashmore Reef has turned out to be one of our favorite stops of the entire trip.

The setting is incredible, being hundreds of miles out at sea yet surrounded by reef. I don’t know how idyllic it would be if the wind ever picked up, but that doesn’t seem very likely since we haven’t seen wind over about three knots for a week now.

The snorkeling is excellent and we have seen everything; stingrays, spotted eagle rays, sea snakes, sea turtles, sharks, and loads of fish. It was cool to see the spotted eagle rays again. We hadn’t seen them since Bora Bora. We’re starting to slip into a routine here, doing a little work in the mornings before it gets too hot, laying around and trying not to move too much in the heat of the afternoon, and then in the late afternoon going for a snorkel around the coral followed by a lazy float with the foam noodles in the shallow water before heading back to the boat around 5 when it starts to cool down. It’s going to be one of those places we have to force ourselves to leave.

october 14 2005 : en route to indonesia
After five incredible days we finally convinced ourselves that we should really get on our way again. This morning as we were getting ready to go a customs ship cruised up to the outer reef. As we motored past him, we were hailed on the VHF and asked a few questions.

It’s crazy how often these guys ask the same things. Since leaving Darwin we have given our information five times; either to ships or the planes which flew over the reef daily. Only one time have they come back, after hearing our boat name, and say they already had all of our information.

Our dinghy has a leak once again. The seams continue to give way one after another. At this point the entire thing is held together with caulk and super glue. I haven’t found this latest leak, so until I do I continue to pump up the dinghy twice a day. If it is left flat, it just swings around violently as we sail.

Yes, sailing. For the first time on our trip to Bali we have the engines off. There isn’t much wind, but we’ve finally got a favorable current that has helped get our speed up over four knots. Better speeds than the entire first half of the trip. The remainder of this passage should take five days and I figure we have enough diesel for three days. So we can definitely use some good sailing weather.

october 16 2005 : en route
Our slow passage continues, but we are making progress and have managed to sail quite a bit, so I think we are just about in motoring range now. Which is a good thing because I think if we had to bob around out here waiting for wind we would go insane. The heat is unbearable.

About the only thing of interest has been that our autopilot isn’t working properly. Actually it isn’t the autopilot so much as the GPS. Normally the GPS gives us a reading to within about 10 feet of where we actually are, but the last couple of days it has been as far off as a quarter of a mile (the GPS actually tells you how accurate it is being). We’ve also been hovering about 100 feet above sea level which is a really neat trick in a sailboat. The big problem with this is that the autopilot runs off of the electronic charts which takes your position from the GPS. So what is happening now is one second the charts say we are a quarter of a mile to the left of the track we should be on and the boat makes a sharp right turn. Then ten seconds later it says that we are 500 feet to the right of the track and so the autopilot corrects again by making a big left hand turn. Which doesn’t make for very efficient sailing. Of course we can bypass the charts and just set the autopilot to point a certain direction, which is what we have done. I just find the GPS thing strange; it’s the first time on our trip that it has done this sort of thing.

october 18 2005 : en route
The wind actually kept up for the most part over the last couple of days. We also had a dramatic change in the weather and got some huge thunderstorms as well. At one point last night it was raining so hard you couldn’t see 10 feet in front of you. The wind helped us make some pretty good mileage and it looked like we were going to make it in a night earlier than we had predicted. This morning I woke up and we only had 41 miles to go. Now eight hours later however, we still have 23 miles to go. Yes, we have covered a grand total of 18 miles in the last eight hours. And that’s motoring! The currents running between the islands of Lombok and Bali are intense. At some times during the year it can get up to eight knots. I don’t know what it is running at right now, but it sure isn’t helping any. So it looks like we won’t be making it in until sometime after midnight after all.

We are pretty much going crazy with anticipation at this point. The last day or two of a long passage is always hard because we get so anxious to just get off of the boat. Our cooking skills go from being okay to being non-existent in those last days. Last night for instance we had peanut butter toast for dinner. Followed up this morning with a bowl of potato and bacon soup. We really, really need off of the boat at this point; if for no other reason than to have somebody else cook something for us.

When we left Darwin we were pretty happy with ourselves for getting so much boat work done. We had it in our heads that Bali would be a relaxing stop and we wouldn’t have to do any work. But this morning Ali updated the Bali to-do list. It includes fixing the dinghy leak, fixing the fridge/freezer which hasn’t shut off since we left Oz, change the engine oil, have the new small tear in the screecher fixed before it really rips, finish sanding the cockpit gelcoat repairs that I made in Darwin, make some gelcoat repairs in the galley, clean the leather couch before the mold takes over, and apply some teak oil to the floors to make them look pretty. Oh, and have fun in Bali. It’s ridiculous how much work boats are.

october 19 2005 : bali, indonesia
We made it. Again. Another 1000 mile passage in the bag. Yesterday was one of the longest days, but by midnight we crept into the entrance to Bali Marina. The marina is about a mile in from the ocean and both our cruising guides warned that we should not attempt a night entrance. However we were exhausted at that point and there was no way we were going to stay out all night to wait for the sunrise. Fortunately there was no wind, the water didn’t have a ripple on it, and we had a full moon. All things that made a night entry seem perfectly feasible.

We slowed the boat down to two knots and inched our way in. Ali stayed below keeping a close eye on the charts and yelling up directions while I tried to make sense of the navigation lights. The charts actually turned out to be completely inaccurate and showed us sailing across a reef and directly over numerous buoys, but visibility was so good that I didn’t need them, and soon we were at the marina. There was a long outer wall and we decided to just tie up there for the night. As we approached it, a couple of marina security guards ran down the dock, grabbed our lines, and helped us tie up. Five minutes later we were in bed.

First thing this morning a guy from Bali Marina was at the boat and explaining to us that he would be bringing all the different government officials to the boat to get us cleared in. We had hired the marina to handle all of our cruising permits needed in Indonesia and this was part of the service. For the next two hours he paraded a number of different people onto the boat, we filled out our paperwork and eventually were legal. Customs poked around the boat a little bit, but didn’t really touch anything. Everybody was extremely nice and there was never even a hint of bribery involved, which we had heard plenty about.

After that we moved the boat to the inside of the marina where they had a slip reserved for us. The marina is pretty small and only holds about 20 boats, so we were pretty happy to get a spot. Six weeks ago there wouldn’t have been any chance, but we are so late in the season, as usual, that most cruisers have cleared on out by now. Of course when we came around the dock with the boat we found another four marina employees eagerly standing by to help us out with lines. We really can’t say enough about how nice and helpful everybody here has been. We had read in the guidebooks that the Balinese will ask questions that Westerners would normally find to be very personal, and they are right. We have pictures of our niece and nephew on the fridge which prompted a lot of questions about where our kids were. And as you are walking down the docks, instead of just saying hello people will ask where you are going, and really expect you to tell them, it’s not just rhetorical. It all makes you feel like they are really interested in you and seeing that you enjoy yourselves in their country.

By now it was noon and well into celebration time. The marina has a nice little bar and restaurant where we settled in for a few well deserved Bintangs and some really good Indonesian food. Grand total for two meals and four grande beers, 112,500 rupiah ($11 USD). Ali and I couldn’t stop grinning and talking about how happy we were to be here. It’s exciting to be somewhere again that is a little more exotic and less like home.

october 22 2005 : bali
After a couple of days hanging around the marina we took off for Kuta, the main tourist town of Bali. Everybody we had talked to about Bali had told us to avoid Kuta, saying it was dangerous (it is the scene of all of the Bali bombings the last few years) and way too touristy. We took that as a sign that it was exactly the kind of place that we would enjoy. And we were right. We took a taxi to town and got dropped off at Un’s Hotel. It was one of only a handful of places listed in Lonely Planet and for $25 we weren’t sure what to expect. When we got there we found a beautiful hotel with a garden and flowers draped all around a spotless pool. Our room was huge, clean, and filled with old antique furniture. Not to mention satellite t.v. with about 100 channels, 96 more than we ever got in NZ or Oz. And it was only about 200 yards from the beach.

After checking in we went out to explore the town. Every street for about two square miles is dedicated entirely to shopping. Literally side by side stores, stalls, and restaurants. The surf shops were filled with the exact same clothes as in Australia but for one-third of the price, that fact alone explains why it is Australia’s number one vacation destination. The touts hound you non-stop to buy everything from cheap t-shirts to stolen sunglasses. And there are legions of guys walking the street trying to shove these little hotel voucher things in your hands and getting pretty frustrated with us for not taking them. But if you do take one you will not be able to shake the guy for at least three blocks. Every ten feet you are also asked if you would like “transport, taxi, motorbike?” We said no thank-you exactly 100,000 times today. That got a little tiring after a while and so after a little shopping we headed back to the hotel to hang out at the pool and have dinner at the hotel restaurant. The food was incredible once again. We haven’t had one thing to eat in Bali that we didn’t like, we even walked right by two Macca’s today if you can believe that. It’s nice to be somewhere that Macca’s isn’t the only cheap meal available.

This morning we woke up to find a thermos of tea outside our door and two vouchers for breakfast at the restaurant. After breakfast we are off to spend the day at the beach surfing, drinking Bintang, and getting hassled by touts.

october 23 2005 : bali
Yesterday’s trip to the beach was good. The touts didn’t turn out to be too terrible, apparently there is a rule that they are supposed to stay near the top of the beach area. They didn’t stick to that, but they weren’t too persistent either. The surf was excellent. Plenty of nice smooth waves to practice on. The beach break goes on for miles so there is plenty of room for the hundreds of surfers out there. I had my best session ever and am finally getting up on the majority of waves I go for, so I was pretty stoked. Ali sat on the beach looking pretty and giving me pointers like, “Try to do it like that guy over there.”

This morning we woke up once again to the sound of cows mooing. The lot behind our hotel is empty except for five cows that roam around all day keeping the grass cut. It’s sort of surreal because the top half of our bathroom wall is wide open, no windows or anything, and so you are standing in the shower in the middle of a busy city staring down at these peaceful little cows wandering around right below you.

october 25 2005 : bali
After a couple more days of self indulgence we are heading back to the boat this morning to make sure everything is okay there before we rent a car and head inland to tour the island and see the mountains. We really haven’t done anything the last two days except lay on the beach, surf, and get massages. You can definitely afford to indulge yourselves here in Indonesia.

Ali has made friends with all the ladies on the beach whether she buys anything from them or not. It’s funny how different their concept of personal space is from ours. They sit down on your chair with you, rub your stomach or your head, and ask you personal questions. But they do it so sweetly that it doesn’t feel the least bit awkward.  And they don’t mind at all having the same questions asked of them. After asking the nice old massage lady about her family I asked if she had ever been to the mountains which are about 20 miles away. She had never been, which strangely didn’t surprise us a bit.  And we made friends with the guys that rent beach umbrellas and chairs, and sell cold beers on the beach as well. What a great way to spend each day.

We grabbed a taxi and went back to the marina. Bum was right where we left her, which is always nice to see, and she didn’t even have so much as a bird poop on her. We spent the day doing a few things around the marina, including fixing the dinghy leak (hopefully), paying our bill for the next few days, and lining up a rental car for our trip inland that we’ll be heading out on tomorrow. We were a little disappointed by our laundry bill though. We had a single size load done and it ended up costing us a little over 7 dollars. They charge a separate price for each item, like 2500 Rp (USD 25 cents) for a pair of shorts and 1500 for a top, all of which sounds really cheap until you start to add it all up. But hey, still beats hanging out in a laundromat all day.

october 26 2005 : bali
This morning our car was delivered to the marina and we loaded up and hit the road. Driving here isn’t too hard despite the amazing amount of motorbikes. The roads are so narrow and crowded that speeds never get much over 30 mph or so, making it pretty difficult to get into too much trouble. The road rules seem to consist of watching out for yourself. If the road is a one way, all that really means is that people going the wrong direction will have to go slowly single file along the side against traffic, not that they can’t go at all. We set off this morning with no real destination in mind other than north. So we just drove aimlessly until we started seeing signs for Ubud and decided to just follow those.

Ubud is the center of cultural Bali, meaning there are lots of spa’s, yoga centers, and the like. Not exactly our cup of tea, preferring more of the hustle bustle of cities and the beaches, but it turned out to be okay anyway. We parked the car and went for a walk through town. Along the way we saw a hotel that looked pretty nice and stopped in to ask about a room. The published price was $60 USD and as soon as we told them we couldn’t pay that much they decided that we could probably work something out. They showed us the room, which once again was very nice, but we told them we really couldn’t pay more than $30. They explained to us that breakfast was included as well. Eventually we settled on $35. Later on in the day we realized that we probably could have paid $10 because business is so bad. The hotel has about 25 rooms and we were the only people there.

After checking in we walked down the road to the Monkey Forest Sanctuary which is a little wooded park with three temples inside. And as the name would suggest there are also a whole lot of monkey’s. At the entrance they sell little bananas for you to feed them and once inside the park you are quickly surrounded. They weren’t overly aggressive though and would come up and grab your hand, take a banana, and sit down to peel and eat it. If you just stood around them long enough they would start to climb on you and check you out. Ali had a group of little ones climbing around on her skirt at one point until one of them got frisky and gave her a playful bite on the thigh. She gave a little yelp and tried to run off which only made them more excited and they chased her down the path a little ways before giving up. The temples were pretty amazing as well. The stone carvings are extremely intricate and despite many being hundreds of years old they are in excellent condition.

Back at the hotel we walked around our private grounds and went for a swim in our private pool. It was hard to believe that the place stayed open for the sole purpose of collecting our 35 bucks.

october 28 2005 : bali
After leaving Ubud we headed north towards Lake Batur. Along the way we climbed steadily up into the mountains. The amazing thing about the 30 km drive was that every inch of roadside had a shop on it. Seriously every square inch for 30 km. Most of the shops were dedicated to woodcarving. A lot of them had hundreds of those big, tall, skinny, wooden cats that you see at Pier One back home with the MADE IN INDONESIA sticker on the bottom. I always assumed they were just mass produced in some factory, but here we actually saw everybody from small kids to old ladies sitting out front of the shops carving these things by hand. We saw thousands upon thousands of the things, all identical. But we also saw a lot of very intricate original works. We had been a little hesitant to stop and have a look around figuring that as soon as we went into a shop we would be hounded and wouldn’t be able to leave without buying something. But finally we decided not to worry about it and stop to look around.

We were amazed at how little attention we got. We went into a couple of shops and weren’t even approached. The reason we had stopped is because we had been seeing these great hand carved rocking horses like they used to make 50+ years ago back home. Obviously we don’t have any need for a rocking horse, but they were so cool looking that we decided we wanted one for the kids room someday. After looking at a few of them we went into one shop and found the one we wanted. Now out here nobody speaks any English, so I was preparing myself to do some awkward haggling over price. So when we asked how much and the guy told us 100,000 Rp ($10 USD) we were a little shocked. I had been expecting a price quote of anywhere from $50-100 and here he only wanted 10 bucks. Knowing it is considered sort of rude to not haggle over price I asked if he would take 50,000. He just shook his head no, so I quickly gave up my bargaining and handed over the 100,000.

Along the drive there would be the occasional small break in between shops because the moutainside would be too steep for them to build anything. These areas would then have an incredible view across a valley full of tiered rice paddys. The only problem was that the hawkers realized that these were the ideal spot for tourists to stop and take pictures and they were ready for you. Before you even got out of the car they would be on you, selling those ridiculous chess sets (who is it that plays so much chess anyway?), or these little boxes that deposit a single cigarette when you push a button, much like a straw holder at a fast food restaurant, or a blowgun with little poison darts, or our favorite, the giant penis bottle opener. Somebody should really sit these people down and explain to them that there are only about seven people in the entire world who would want to buy any of these things and try to get them to make other items like drink coasters or picture frames. You know, normal stuff for normal people.

After saying no thank-you another couple of thousand times we managed to get the doors closed and start driving again. As we pulled away Ali had a drink of water and then asked me if I wanted a sip. I said no thank-you. She then stuck the water bottle towards me and asked me again if I wanted a sip. Figuring she didn’t hear me the first time I just said no thanks again. Then she stuck the bottle right in front of my mouth and asked a third time if I wanted a sip. About to scream no thank-you I looked over at her to see her about ready to burst with laughter and it finally dawned on me that just like the hawkers she had heard me say no thank-you every time. Smart-ass.

Finally arriving at Lake Batur we really had no idea what was there other than a volcano with a lake at the bottom. At the entrance to town we were stopped by the police and had to pay a 8000 Rp fee to continue on. They actually had tickets though, so we couldn’t have been getting screwed too bad. Around the next corner we suddenly were confronted with an amazing view of the entire valley below. We pulled over and were once again attacked by chess set sellers but managed to fight our way through and spend a good quality 18 seconds enjoying the view before being chased back into the car. Funny thing was that the chess set guy saw the horse in the back of the car and quickly started asking us questions about it, like where we bought it and how much it cost. We didn’t think much about it until a little farther down the road after stopping for a snack and a drink at a restaurant with a view, our waiter saw the horse and started asking us the same questions. Strange, we thought, that they would care so much.

We followed a steep road down to the bottom of the valley and drove around the lake. There were a couple of very small towns down there and it was the first area that we really got to see how the Balinese live. Every other place we had been the roadsides had been solid shops and never an actual home. We drove along the road being chased occasionally by a scooter with a guy on it who would want to take us on a tour or tell us about his hotel, but other than these guys nobody really gave us a second look. The place had that deserted feel to it and most of the so called hotels were little more than shacks. So when we stumbled across a place that Lonely Planet had called the only upscale hotel in the area we pulled in for a look. Once again it seemed we were the only people in the entire complex. This time we talked him down from $80 to $20. The room was a dive though and was probably only worth $10. We drove down the road to a nearby restaurant and had the first bad meal we have had in Bali. Actually Ali’s was good, mine was bad, and all ten thousand flies liked them both. So Lake Batur turned out to be not such a great spot, though the scenery was top notch.

At the hotel we got vouchers for breakfast at the restaurant across the street. Nothing strange about that as breakfast is always included in Bali hotels. The difference here was that on our voucher it said, “We regret no credit can be given for any portion of your meal not consumed.” And after having breakfast there we knew why they had to include that disclaimer.

The drive today was much of the same though there weren’t quite as many shops and there was a lot more countryside. Driving along the road you would be in relative countryside one minute and the next there would be business after business making different things depending on the area you were in. For instance there was one area a few miles long where every building was busy making bricks. Millions of bricks. When I say building I really just mean a roof supported by four bamboo poles. But everybody was hard at work and every area was busy dedicating themselves to something different, sawmills cutting up raw lumber, stone workers carving statues, you name it.

Around eleven we started seeing a lot of stalls set up along the road cooking lunch. We pulled over at one which was pretty well in the middle of nowhere and we could tell they were pretty surprised to see us. I had a look at what they were cooking up on the grill and chose a couple of chicken satay (basically shish kebobs), and some other mystery meat wrapped in a banana leaf. They served that to me in some wax paper and then handed me a big chunk of wax paper with rice in it. Ali ordered up a Sprite and some sugar donut looking things, which were pretty good and would have been excellent if they weren’t so hard.

My chicken was great, the mystery meat a little less so, but still edible. By now a couple of other people had gathered around including an old lady with black teeth who just talked with the stall owner about us and laughed and laughed. Nobody spoke any English, and our Indonesian isn’t quite up to conversing with the locals, so we all just stood around smiling at each other. The old lady got a bag full of the super mystery meat which had a strange yellow color, and then the stall owner decided that I really needed to try some of that too, and scooped a spoonful into my rice. I grinned and put the first bite in my mouth, chewed once before realizing that I should not do that again, and then swallowed it whole. I’m pretty sure it was just a solid piece of fat, but from what kind of animal I don’t know. Luckily at this point another guy showed up and drew the attention to the other end of the stall. I quickly scooped my remaining two pieces of goo into the waiting jaws of the dog who had strategically placed himself between my legs. It was a fun little stop and after exchanging names with everybody we were back on the road.

The destination for today was Lovina, which is along the northern black sand beaches of Bali. We were sort of hurrying along because we wanted to make it in time for the bull races that they have every Friday at four o’clock. We found a great place to stay and then quickly headed into town to see about the bull racing. It turned out that they only hold the races during the peak tourist season of June, July, and August so we were out of luck. We were exhausted though so weren’t too disappointed.

After ten days we were starting to get a little tired of rice, vegetables, and chicken, and were really hoping for a Macca’s, but it wasn’t to be. So instead we decided it was time to get our first Balinese pizza. Ya baby. We found a restaurant near our hotel advertising pizza, it didn’t really look like it was open but we asked anyway “Of course, of course, sit.” We ordered a couple of beers and then started looking at the menu. We decided to keep things simple and ordered a chicken and onion pizza. “Sorry, no onion.” Okay, so just chicken pizza. And an order of garlic bread, and how about a bowl of that minestrone soup? “Sorry, no soup.” Okay, what about that baked potato vegetarian style? “Sorry, no vegetarian, how about with tomatoes?” Sure, why not, a baked potato with tomato.

The menu had a little bit of everything on it but it seemed that for some reason anything with vegetables other than tomatoes wasn’t going to happen today. We sat back to wait for our beers. A  minute later we saw the waitress walk out with a plastic bag containing two empty beer bottles. She hopped on a scooter and sped away. A few minutes later she was back with two cold beers. It was pretty clear at this point that the restaurant had no intention of opening today until we showed up. That had us expecting the worst from our food, but when it all came out everything was great, even our plain chicken pizza. Grand total for all that work and food, six bucks.

Now back to our wooden horse. At the hotel we had a small crowd gather around to look at it. Everybody seemed really impressed by it and asked us where we got it. One lady asked us if we got it in Bali, which we thought was a pretty funny question. Like we might have brought it with us from America. Then out front of the restaurant a couple more guys stopped to have a look at it. Then one of them came over and asked us if that was our car. He told us what a nice horse it was and asked us where we bought it. Again he asked us how much it cost and so we asked him what he thought it would have cost us. He said it must have cost over 200,000. Since we were already pretty happy with our purchase and all the attention it brought us we were glad to hear that we even got it for a good price. Would have never guessed the horse would be such a big hit with the locals.

october 30 2005 : bali
Yesterday the drive took us from the north coast back down to the south coast. Driving here is fairly easy as long as you don’t care where exactly you are headed and just have a general area in mind. But otherwise roads don’t seem to have any names and even towns never seemed to be marked so you never no where you are unless you pull over and ask somebody the stupidest of all stupid questions, “Um, excuse me but where am I?” So when we emerged along the ocean on the south coast about 20 miles east of where we were intending we weren’t too surprised. We had meant to spend the day at the beach surfing, but the weather was cloudy and the hotel we stopped at wouldn’t bargain on their expensive rooms so we decided to just press on and visit Tanah Lot.

Tanah Lot is a temple perched up on a rock about 50 yards off of the beach. It’s a super touristy place, but it is a beautiful setting. There was a group of school kids there who had a project to ask six English speaking tourists some questions in English and record their answers. They set upon Ali and I immediately and we spent about a half an hour answering over and over again what our names, ages, and occupations were. Ali told the truth and said she didn’t have a job but I felt something a little more exciting like race car driver would be a good job. So for one day, at least, I became a race car driver. At one point their teacher came over and when the kids asked where Ali was from the teacher interrupted and said England. We get that all the time here in Indonesia. This is the first place we have ever been that we weren’t immediately singled out as Americans. Seems Bali is a little too far away for Americans but they get loads of Europeans and of course Australians here.

This morning we headed back towards home. On the way we finally tucked into a Macca’s for some seriously good grub. Then we headed for the Garuda Wisnu Kencana Cultural Park. We were driving along and were coming up on a set of traffic lights when we suddenly realized that we needed to be in the right lane to make a turn. At the last second I was able to squeeze over into the lane but was partially over the crosswalk. No big deal since we were on more or less a highway and there were no pedestrians. However, like just about every major intersection in Bali this one had a little hut with three police officers sitting at it. One officer that looked about 17 years old came over and told us we were in the crosswalk. Yes, thanks for telling us. Then he decided to have us pull over to the side of the road by his hut. He asked for our registration and drivers license. I knew the drivers license question was coming because the guidebook told me so. In Indonesia you are supposed to have an International Driving Permit (IDP). This is the official law, but unofficially nobody cares, least of all the guy who rents you his car and jots down your drivers license information. Anyway, after seeing my license he told me to get out of the car and follow him into the hut. He sat me down and played bad cop. He drew a diagram of a street and a crosswalk showing my car in the crosswalk and kept saying how illegal this was. I know sir, it’s a very serious offense. Then he started tapping my license and yelling at me that it was “NOT VALID!”

Then the real game began. He pulled out this phony looking ticket book and had me write down my name and where we were staying. Then he told me I would have to go “to justice” in Denpassar, the capital city on “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday at 9 a.m.” Orrrrrrr…and here came the real shocker, I could pay the police fine here. Well that sure does sound easier than going “to justice.” How much might that cost me? “250,000!” 25 bucks sounded a little steep to me so I offered that maybe I could pay him 100,000 for the drivers license ticket and nothing for the crosswalk. “No, no, must pay 250,000! It is a police fine.” Well how much might it cost if I go to Denpassar? “Oh very much.”

And on and on the game went for a couple of minutes before he finally agreed to 100,000. I ran back out to the car and got the money. Ali had been sitting there reading the Lonely Planet which said “the fine for riding without a license is at least 2,000,000 ($200 USD). Some police may let you off with an ‘on-the-spot’ fine but don’t count on it.” So she was pretty pleased with only 100,000 and no jail time. Back in the car now without a receipt of any sort, the officer gave me directions to where we were going, stopped traffic for us and waved us on our way. My first shake down. It was kind of exciting, especially in a country where you can get the death penalty for a little bag of drugs.

So we made it to the Cultural Park which is set in an old limestone quarry. Since we didn’t hire a guide and there was no written information about the park we really have no idea what it is that we were seeing, other than a big statue of half a mans body and another large statue of a bird which we believe is Wisnu. All our Lonely Planet says is that the statue will dwarf all other statues in the world when it is completed but I have serious doubts about that. It is however, very pretty. There is a path about two hundred yards long leading through the middle of these giant stone pillars and at the end up a big stairway is the statue. And once again we pretty much had the place all to ourselves.

Last stop of the day was to the Makro, which is exactly like a Sam’s Club or Costco back home. You are supposed to have a membership card but nobody asked us for one. At first we were just shaking our heads because all of the stuff that we stocked up on in Australia was here for about one-fourth of the price. Eventually we realized they didn’t have our main food, which is soup. But they did have all the staples, like Jif peanut butter, Cheetos, and Diet Coke. You can’t even find Jif in NZ or Oz, but the Balinese have got it.