Sick waves and sick head

From golden sunsets silhouetted by scrambling monkeys on temples, to bat ridden caves at the mouth of classic surf, Bali has it all. I must say that I feel like I've been a little unfortunate in my first week here in this paradisaical place, coming down with a pretty vicious cold. Sleeping has been a nightmare and I've been pretty bed-bound since it hit me just two days after my arrival here. If that wasn't enough, on the first day that I went out into the water, I managed to scrape a couple of big holes into my toes and trying to heal them up has been a real nightmare. I had this problem when I was up in Lennox Head back in Australia too and it pretty much stopped me from going in. Luckily the surf hit on the first few days and then it was game over for a fortnight. Just about enough time to fix 'em up! Here, however, it's been my cold that has stopped me from going in but now that its just a little on the mend, I went back in this morning for an early paddle and the wounds opened up again. Not nice. I got to be in there for about 2 hours and then the pain was just too much. The surf was pretty good though. This mornings venture was out to a break called Green Bowl on the southern most tip of the island in a place called Bali Cliff. I met a cool Brazilian guy from the hostel and we decided that the swell might be good today, so we got up at 5.30 a.m. The drive was about 20 to 30 minutes. When we parked our bikes, a man called Nyuman said he'd watch them for us, so we gave him our bags with everything in it pretty much. There was also one car there with four surfers round it getting ready to rumble. Two Africans, a Brazillian and an Indonesian local. We went to the top of the cliff but couldn't see much surf. By the time we'd got back, the four guys had pretty much geared up and started their way down to the break. We'd decided to go anyway so when the Indonesian chap came up and asked us what it was like, we just shrugged a little. At this he smiled and said "maybe you should go to Sarangan then! I saw it this morning and it was rocking!" Kind of realizing that he didn't want us to go into the water, we all laughed it off. They headed off and we got into our gear. It was good to have a couple of people go in before us as we didn't really know the break. We got to the top of the cliff and the trek down was a very long one. Half way down, we saw them going in through a rip and decided we'd follow them in and then when the we glanced through a break in the trees we could see what initially we hadn't spotted. At the end of the end of the rip, on either side, were gorgeous lefts and rights, glistening from the newly born sun. It took a little while to get out as we had to tread over quite a bit of reef but once we were out, it was pretty plain sailing. We were there not five minutes and somewhat mysteriously, there were only two of the four guys out there. When we finally got to the peak, the Indonesian gestured over to the remaining guy, saying that he was going back in for a quick bit. It seemed like the Indonesian was probably a guide for the others and when two of them bailed, he went back for them. Eventually the last one followed. Confronted with hollow, powerful and slightly messy 7 foot waves, they might not have been too keen on getting splattered and we saw them all heading back up the cliff. It was a shame for the one guy remaining and the guide but I guess the other two just weren't experienced enough. This basically just left myself and Gil out there. He's a pretty competent surfer and really pumped in on a few of them. I myself managed to picked up a couple of reasonable ones but got pounded pretty bad by a few of the following sets! The good thing was I could just paddle about 20 metres to the left and get back into the rip and out again. Unfortunately, my toes really started to hurt after a couple of hours and that was gonna have to be it. My last wave was a rare left though. The break is predominantly a right but this left was sick. It picked me up and I glided right into the pit, managed a quick cut at the bottom and then half way up the face on the other side before I had to bail with the whole thing collapsing behind me. Definitely my highlighting rush of Bali waves so far. After that, we picked up our gear and even tho we had to endure a little bit of hassling from some old Balinese women trying to sell us necklaces, we left happy and headed back home for some well earned brekky!

Bali By Bike

If you're gonna get anywhere in Bali, it's got to be by bike. Day 2 was chill-out day. A day to compose, relax, take it easy and hit the local beaches and restaurants. Today, however, was an entirely different one. I got up at 6.45 am and Waeyan gave me the keys to my very own motor bike. Now, taking into account I'd never ridden one before, I was a little bit nervous when he handed me the keys, gave me a helmet and told me that he had to head off to the local market. He drove off, leaving me to stare at the bike whilst listening to the local cock, cock-a-doodle-doo away. I looked around and saw nobody, so, I got on top of the bike and hit the START button. Spluttering and jerking up the little hill that leads to the road, I was amazed that I didn't hit anything. I got to the top and headed right to the local beaches. On my way I cruised... well, more like did the equivalent of bike-crawled, up to a swiss guy hanging out outside his hostel. I asked him a couple of quick questions like... "erm... how does this thing work?", so he smiled and gave me a quick run-down. Within minutes, I was a bike-riding god! The roads here are surprising smooth and very hilly and controlling the thing became very easy. I headed out to local beaches, only to find that the waves were all flat. So I came back and decided to head on out to Nusa Dua, which is on the other side of the island. I got conflicting reports on what was the best way and how long it would take to get there but found that, in the end, the only way was to ask as many people, as much as possible. Eventually, I got there, after about a 40 minute drive. And it was worth it. The beaches on this side of the island had highly favorable winds and the waves looked lovely. Nothing too big but just a little bit of fun. Unfortunately, they were far out past a reef and getting out to them was going to prove to be a little bit of a mission. I settled for just going for a swim and headed out towards the local beach. The water was incredible. The kind of cyan clue that you only dream of and see in your local bus-stop billboard. From a distance, I could only see a few people and some shacks, but when I got down to the beach, through a little cave walk-way and down past an obscuring hill, I was shocked to see a massive hotel complex, complete with it's own swimming pool, water slides, massage shacks and even 3 camels lying lazily under a tree. On the beach were quite a few middle aged, rich sons of Russian billionaires, chugging away on cigars! I looked around for Roman Abramovich but couldn't see him. I didn't actually realize it but, today was Russian Christmas, and they were putting on a big show on the beach. Somewhat disgusted, I walked around the beach and then suddenly saw a group of guys getting onto a little boat with surfboards and bodyboards at hand. At this point I dropped everything, ran up to them and asked them to come with them. They were a family from South Africa, staying at the complex and quickly, after a little bit of my persuasive and comic charm, they accepted my offer of paying my way on the boat by letting me head on out with them. The boat drifted out, past the reef and behind the peak of some lovely little waves. Nothing massive, but still a big load of fun. The reef underneath was surprisingly shallow and I hit my back on a few of them, but it was nothing too bad as the waves were harmless really. After an hour out at sea, the boat came back to pick us up and we headed on back for a couple of beers on the beach. And even though we got bitten by the local mosquitoes, which were obviously having a field day with all these tourists kicking about the place, my first trek out to Balinese waves was a very pleasurable one :-)

Blog Me Bali

So it was time to say goodbye and farewell to Australia. I'd managed to stay there 8 hours short of my visa expiry date. Personally, I was rather in awe of that feat. It was a great experience and I'd quickly just like to thank everyone for making my life there a pleasant one... apart from Gerry Mullane. Most of you who were in touch with me in the last 2 or 3 months will have heard the name mumbled from my tightly angered lips. Were it not for him, Virgin would probably have taken me on and kept me there for a while longer. As it happens, I believe it's probably turned out for the best. My grandmother enjoys blaming fate for these sort of things and although I vehemently disagree with her theories, I think that in certain cases, she's got a point :-) For one, were it not for the way things turned out, I wouldn't be writing this blog from an internet cafe in a beautiful place called Padang Padang, on the southern most tip of Bali in Indonesia right now. I did, however, have to leave my lovely Joy. The girl I've been with for the last 6 months has been a real bright light in my life. Her plane left at 9 a.m. from Sydney International Airport, so we both caught a taxi at quarter to seven and headed out there. Our goodbye was surprisingly curt. Earlier, we both couldn't help but notice that we though it felt like any other day. I think I put that down to how comfortable we were together. I miss her now but I think we'll be together again. So off she went. I saw her off at the departure gate and she cried. My eyes welled a little and she was happy enough with that. I then proceeded to amble around like some kind of zombie, answering last minute text and calls from friends and annoying people by being at the free internet posts playing chess. Quick tip for Sydney International Airport: Get an internet cafe! Revolutionary, I know. I then went to get a little sleep in the upstairs lounge. I set my alarm for 2.30 p.m. and shoved my phone down my shirt. The vibrations, belled from them, were enough to awaken me. I lumbered up, rubbed my eyes and made my way to the already large JetStar Check-In cue. After thirty minutes of being kicked in the back by an annoying 2 year old, blonde Kiwi rascal, I popped up to the counter, all giddy-like, only to find out I wasn't allowed to go to Bali without a ticket leaving the place. I panicked! I asked myself how I could have been so stupid as to overlook the rules and regulations of visiting Indonesia, but then quickly dismissed that thought by answering to the tune of the fact I was that stupid. Typical. I had about one hour to buy a flight out of Indonesia. But unfortunately, customs weren't very clear about how long I'd be able to stay there. I rushed over to one of the computers only to find them all taken. I even got behind one of the people but one of the others got off. Unfortunately, a middle aged, ragged looking old hag hopped onto one before I could grab my stuff and circle round to it. I tried to argue the point that I was there first and rather desperate, but she basically told me to go stuff it because hers was an emergency too. If only I'd not played all that chess whilst others were desperately waiting, maybe? Hmmm... Good ol Karma. Eventually I got onto one, only to find a flight and then fail by seeing my credit card declined. Great. So I rushed to the local Jetstar desk and informed them that I'd found a flight out and I wanted to buy it but had to pay cash. They went onto the site, found the flight and I ran off to cash-point to grab the dough. When I got back, they were having problems getting the ticket and I had to wait, anxiously, until there were no more people left in the check-in cue. Some problems with the website apparently. Still, I was there and they guaranteed that they'd get me onto the flight. Finally, when it came through, I checked in all my luggage and ran for the plane. I made it with 7 minutes to spare. Most of the people were already on board. It was emotional seeing off Sydney for the last time but once we were airborne, I only had Bali on my mind. I'd got a flight for 2 months time and now I was being told that I'd definitely only be able to get 30 days on my visa. Stay tuned for some interesting haggling time, trying to get an extension from the Indonesian government... or from the local travel agencies. I finally arrived in Bali after sitting for 5 hours, next to a guy who worked in the horse saddling business. Now there's something I never thought would happened. As it turned out, he'd been to Bali on business for 8 years now and also had some interesting points about health, places to visit and prostitution to discuss, so it wasn't all boredom. My arrival was a little annoying though. Not only did customs point blank refuse to give me the extension on my visa, but I also got hussled by a couple of "porters" there. They picked up my stuff, carried it through to customs where some burly looking chap asked me if I'd packed any alcohol, cigarettes, drugs or "videos" in my luggage. My heart was racing, flashing back to the Death Penalty signs for bring drugs into the country, that were plastered all over the place. In my haste, I fortunately answered all the question correctly, but when the two guys who were carrying my luggage corned me and asked me for 50'000 rupiah each as a "tip", I just gave it to them, fearing they might make my life a little harder by denouncing something suspicious to customs or something. I then realized that I'd got scammed. Nice. They charged me £5 to carry my bags for 10 meters... and I was so huffed in it all that I payed for it. That was a night's accommodation out the window. Outside was another story. The night time heat and roadside chaos was strangling. Non-stop hassling by guys asking if I needed a taxi and attempting to spark up conversation to find out where I was going. I had to haggle like mad with 3 different taxi drivers before I got a trustworthy one that promised to use his meter. I was nervous as anything, in the pitch black of night fall, somewhere in South Indonesia, what was to say this guy wasn't going to pull over into some field and take all I had... or worse. As it turned out, he was a really nice guy and I just felt bad for having distrusted him. When I got to my place, the Padang Padang Inn, Waeyen was waiting for me at the gate, bleary eyed, but with a smile that made my shoulders drop. He took me to my room and I collapsed on my bed for a fully deserved nights sleep. I could have slept through a cyclone, which is interesting because apparently there's one just off the coast, but missing us by a few hundred kilometers. I need day two.