The BALI STORY 2000.
Here are some quick links to the chapters of the story -
The
Bali
Travellers,
2000.
Claire,
Phil,
Janelle,
Chris
and
Jay.
Scot
was
to
join
us
later.
This
is
the
beginning
of
the
personal
Diary
of
our
holiday
in
Bali
in
late
September
2000.
This
introduction
to
the
travel
group
and
then
the
organisation
(or
lack
of
it)
for
the
trip
may
not
be
riveting,
amusing
or
highly
entertaining
for
you.
If
you're
more
interested
in
the
travel
and
the
destination
you
might
be
better
off
going
to
the
next
part,
'Getting
There'
or
the
third
part,
'Day
1.'
that
follow,
but
at
least
read
the
profile
of
our
group
first
so
that
you
know
a
bit
about
us.
This
might
lead
you
to
a
better
understanding
of
the
things
that
follow.
There
are
nineteen
parts
in
total,
finishing
with
'Getting
Back'
after'
Day
16'.
Proceed
at
your
own
risk.
It
might
be
a
good
bedtime
story
but
-
DO
NOT
INGEST
DURING
OR
BEFORE
DRIVING!
OUR
PROFILE:
Our
group
has
a
core
of
experienced
Baliphiles,
Nell
and
Phil,
with
12-year-old
son
Jay
are
the
seed
material
having
travelled
to
Bali
and
other
south
east
Asian
countries
at
least
once
a
year
since
Jay
was
2.
On
most
of
these
trips
Chris
has
accompanied
them,
frequently
taking
his
son
Scot,
who
is
a
great
companion
to
Jay
and
who
is
this
year
old
enough
to
buy
his
own
beer.
Claire
and
I
first
went
to
Bali
over
20
years
ago.
Claire
was
a
seasoned
traveller
but
this
was
my
first
O/S
trip.
In
fact
it
was
my
first
significant
trip
anywhere.
It
was
intended
(I
think)
to
be
our
bindingly
sinful
sojourn
away
from
prying
eyes
and
negative
influences.
Because
of
work
and
family
commitments
we
had
not
subsequently
returned
for
many
years
until
six
years
ago
when
Claire,
through
work,
met
Nell
and
Chris
and
we
were
thereby
drawn
back
to
a
place
we
both
had
fond
memories
of.
Phil
is
a
sports
person,
having
been
a
league
footballer
in
younger
days
and
is
still
an
imposing
figure
anywhere
but
assumes
giant
proportions
amongst
the
smaller
stature
of
the
Balinese.
He
is
now
a
manager
in
this
field
while
the
rest
of
us
are
present
or
past
teachers
in
the
secondary
system.
Our
ages
range
from
12
to
60+.
Most
people
would
think
of
us
as
well
off
middle
class
urbanites,
generally
staid
and
conservative
but
given
to
an
occasional
fling
as
long
as
not
too
many
people
are
looking.
The
youngsters
are
occasional
party
animals
but
we
(the
oldsters
particularly
included
here)
don't
destroy
ourselves
on
a
regular
basis.
The
central
core
has
usually
attracted
a
different
group
of
satellite
travellers
each
year.
This
year,
however,
Claire
and
I
are
the
only
additions
to
the
core
for
our
fifth
trip.
(Are
we
now
close
satellites
or
regulars
or
nearly
core
players?)
Understanding
these
things
the
reader
will
perhaps
nod
more
knowingly
at
some
of
those
things
that
follow.
Part
of
a
holiday
must
at
least
be
the
journey
itself,
as
well
as
the
days
of
leisure
and
pleasure
and
I
suppose
that
if
the
journey
includes
the
planning
then
a
holiday,
like
a
story,
can
be
started
at
any
time.
This
Bali
Story
starts
on
Sunday
1
July,
2000,
10
weeks
and
2
days
before
we
even
leave,
simply
because
that's
the
time
I
first
sat
down
to
start
the
record.
It
could
have
started
20
years
ago,
or
six,
or
in
72
days
time
when
we
will
land
at
Ngurah
Rai
Airport,
Bali,
but
a
lot
of
the
ecstasy
and
the
agony
would
be
lost
to
the
fogs
of
time
if
it
had
been
delayed
until
then.
It
is
a
Diary
record
and
as
such
it
will
not
be
short
(the
early
start
should
at
least
give
some
strong
indication
of
this).
Determination
will
be
needed
for
the
stranger
to
complete
it,
let
alone
relish
it.
It
is
to
be
a
personal
documentary
for
my
future
years
and
I
don’t
want
to
omit
any
of
the
gory
details
in
case
I
also
omit
the
gems.
I
first
wrote
about
our
Bali
adventures
last
year,
in
a
letter
to
family,
friends,
acquaintances
and
others.
It
spread
far
wider
than
the
audience
for
which
it
was
originally
intended.
It
also
seemed
to
be
well
accepted
in
certain
critical
quarters
(a
group
of
my
fellow
retired
colleagues
who
worked
in
the
English
language
field
-
which
I
did
not
so
don’t
expect
a
work
of
art
to
follow)
and
met
with
mild
acclaim
from
others
perhaps
less
qualified
to
judge.
All
of
that
has
had
a
significant
impetus
to
the
commencement
of
this
saga.
I
hope
that
at
some
time
in
the
years
ahead
I
will
be
able
to
read
the
diary
of
this
trip
and
thereby
recall
and
re-live
the
finer
details
that
an
old
memory
will
lose.
Perhaps
too,
at
some
time
in
the
future
my
family
will
review
it
and
find
some
understanding
of
me,
and
my
feelings
for
Bali.
If
readers
are
curious,
or
in
the
mood
for
self-flagellation,
the
"Bali
Saga
'99"
is
currently
linked
from
our
Home
Page
and
there
are
some
pictures
to
go
with
it
there
also.
I
guess
that
you
have
to
be
geriatric
to
understand
this
urge
to
write
and
record.
Why
did
I
decide
to
start
writing
this
early?
Well,
a
frequently
frustrating
but
critical
part
of
a
group
holiday
is
the
prior
planning
and
decision-making
process
that
occurs
within
the
group.
The
more
people
involved
the
more
critical
and
more
difficult
-
and
the
more
dummies
are
bitten
down
on
before
they
can
be
spat
(or
spit
as
they
would
say
in
the
USA).
I
want
to
document
this
process
a
little
because
it
has
been
an
exciting,
but
at
times
tense
prelude
to
the
actual
trip.
The
mixture
of
emotions
varied
from
extreme
excitement
at
the
thought
of
the
holiday
to
utter
frustration
and
at
times
barely
concealed
anger
when
decisions
could
not
be
agreed
on,
or
those
that
had
been
agreed
upon
one
week
were
mysteriously
back
in
a
state
of
flux
the
next
week.
Although
it
was
often
said
that
we
could
all
go
our
separate
ways
and
do
our
own
thing
if
a
planned
activity
did
not
suit
us
this
is
not
always
easy
to
put
into
practise.
If
you
are
part
of
a
travel
group
then
companionship
is
a
part
of
your
needs
and
that
is
immediately
lost
if
you
leave
the
group.
You
lose
contact
and
you
don'
share
the
experiences
of
the
others
and
a
little
uncomfortable
feeling
of
being
left
out
creeps
into
your
memories.
This
alone
is
enough
for
all
of
us,
I
think,
to
want
to
have
an
agreed
itinerary
that
we
thought
we
would
be
happy
to
follow
even
if
we
did
decide
to
change
it
if
circumstances
subsequently
changed
at
the
last
minute.
The
planning
usually
took
place
on
Friday
evenings,
over
a
few
drinks
and
some
sort
of
a
meal,
at
Phil
and
Nell's
home
although
this
changed
later
because
of
their
new
circumstances.
This
year
the
planning
process
was
made
partly
more
and
partly
less
complicated
by
the
total
unavailability
of
any
seats
for
the
Frequent
Fliers
of
the
group.
Over
past
years
this
situation
has
steadily
deteriorated
from
no
problem
at
all
4
years
ago,
to
having
to
pay
for
airfares
to
other
Australian
capital
city
departure
points
where
seats
to
Denpasar
were
available
which
was
the
situation
last
year.
When
you
have
budgeted
and
spent
carefully
all
year
long
to
accumulate
points
it
is
frustrating
in
the
extreme
to
find
that
the
airlines,
(both
Ansett
and
Qantas
in
our
case)
can't
meet
their
end
of
the
bargain
you
have
presumed
was
in
place.
I
have
seen
it
suggested
that
this
is
discriminatory
to
people
who
work
in
education
particularly,
and
who
can
not
take
holidays
whenever
they
might
choose
but
are
confined
to
holiday
times
which
are
of
course
the
peak
travel
and
accommodation
periods.
I
would
not
disagree
with
this
assessment!
I
have
often
wondered
what
Bali
is
like
out
of
the
school
holiday
peak
season,
when
it
is
less
crowded
on
the
streets.
One
day
I
intend
to
find
out.
As
'free'
seats
were
not
available
we
would
at
least
all
travel
together
this
time
and
the
search
for
the
best
travel
bargain
became
a
common
concern.
So
it
was
that,
right
from
the
start,
our
past
loyalty
to
Ansett
evaporated.
When
it
became
obvious
that
Qantas
was
in
the
same
situation
but
was
not
prepared
to
be
totally
open
about
it,
they
were
also
disregarded
in
our
search,
and
Aussie
loyalties
succumbed
to
an
outraged
sense
of
the
fair
thing.
Our
quest
became
centred
on
Garuda
Indonesia
airlines,
as
there
were
not
many
other
options:
in
fact
there
were
none.
Good
comments
about
Garuda
on
the
Bali
Forum
(http://balitravelforum.com)
gave
confidence
to
the
less
enthusiastic
members
of
the
group.
The
much
cheaper
prices
available
from
Garuda
were
attractive
to
those
now
without
regular
incomes
and
clinched
this
decision.
The
greatly
reduced
travel
times
resulting
from
the
direct
flight
with
no
stopovers
was
an
added
bonus.
Five
hours
in
the
air
means
that
we
will
arrive
much
fresher
and
ready
to
go
than
we
have
been
after
twelve
and
a
half
hour
flights
all
round
Australia
on
previous
occasions.
This
short
flight
time
also
means
that
our
arrival
will
be
just
after
noon
rather
than
just
after
midnight
effectively
giving
us
an
extra
half
day
in
Paradise.
As
we
only
had
the
options
of
going
in
school
holidays
and
July
was
too
near,
September
was
the
obvious
answer
to
the
'when?'
question.
It
only
remained
to
decide
where!
(Within
Bali
of
course).
And
this
was
a
torment!
After
much
reading
of
the
brochures,
much
perusal
of
the
Bali
Forum,
many
debates
about
past
venues,
the
construction
of
comparative
charts
on
the
computer,
repeated
digestion
of
the
relevant
and
irrelevant
facts,
reason
was
abandoned.
The
Sheraton
Nusa
Indah
Resort
was
chosen
as
the
new
initial
venue
for
this
year
and
the
old
faithful
Holiday
Inn
Bali
Hai
at
Tuban
would
become
the
mainstay
for
shopping
forays
and
short
adventures
further
afield
for
the
main
part
of
our
holiday.
The
best
price
we
got
was
through
The
Flight
Centre,
but
only
after
we
got
a
really
good
package
from
a
small
local
Getaway
agent
and
Flight
Centre
lived
up
to
their
advertised
promise
to
beat
any
offer
-
but
only
by
A$20
per
adult
as
it
turned
out.
The
final
figure
was
$1830
(and
$150
for
no-excess
family
insurance)
for
4
nights
at
Nusa
Dua
and
12
nights
at
Tuban.
Through
Ansett
last
year
a
similar
package
with
one
day
less
and
only
3
nights
at
Nusa
Dua
was
well
over
$2300!
This
saving
of
nearly
$500
(for
the
non
Frequent
Fliers
at
least),
coupled
with
an
exchange
rate
that
is
at
the
moment
consistently
over
Rp5000
to
the
dollar
(compared
with
around
Rp4000
to
4200
last
year)
should
mean
lots
more
massages,
lots
more
shopping,
lots
more
clothing,
bigger
presents
for
our
Balinese
friends
and
so
on.
It
will
not
mean
less
money
actually
spent
I'm
sure.
We
actually
got
very
good
accommodation
rates
through
Bali
Villas
(the
hosts
for
the
Forum
mentioned
above)
but
we
couldn't
get
any
discounts
on
air
fares
so
the
total
turned
out
to
be
above
the
travel
agents'
package
prices.
Monday
10
July.
Nine
weeks
and
four
days
to
take-off
-
and
two
problems
have
arisen
-
or
have
they?
Nell
has
won
a
promotion
to
a
country
site,
and
Phil
and
Jay
will
go
with
her
of
course.
What
communication
stresses
will
this
put
on
the
planning
and
organisation
that
centred
on
social
Friday
evenings
at
their
home?
Only
time
will
tell,
but
it
is
probable
that
there
will
be
some
difficulties
because
Phil
is
the
contact
person
with
the
travel
agents.
The
other
is
really
less
of
a
problem.
We
have
been
advised
that
there
are
no
Garden
View
rooms
available
at
the
Sheraton
Indah.
A
Poolside
room
will
cost
an
extra
$44.
What
do
we
want
to
do?
Phil
makes
an
instant,
autocratic
decision
and
says
that
we
will
all
take
the
Poolside
rooms!
All
being
swimmers,
no-one
argues
the
point,
and
probably
no-one
wants
to
go
back
to
the
difficulties
of
selecting
a
new
hotel
either!
I've
been
tracking
the
exchange
rate
(via
the
Currency
Converter
on
the
Bali
Travel
Forum)
for
the
last
month
or
so
and
today
it's
5473.73
rupia
to
the
Aussie
dollar.
It's
been
a
bit
higher,
peaking
at
5490,
but
I
can't
help
wondering
if
it’s
going
much
higher.
If
the
tourists
are
returning
to
Bali
after
the
scares
of
the
Indonesian
elections
and
subsequent
civil
riots,
I
think
the
exchange
rate
will
decline.
Should
we
cash
a
couple
of
hundred
dollars
now
as
a
hedge
against
it
dropping?
I
have
all
sorts
of
altruistic
thoughts,
like
clearing
some
of
Australia's
rupia
stocks
back
to
Indonesia
and
having
more
to
spend
with
the
natives
when
we
arrive,
thus
returning
it
to
the
economy
at
the
poorest
level
rather
than
into
the
wallets
of
the
rich.
But
perhaps
really
it's
just
another
way
of
trying
to
get
a
bargain?
I
must
speak
to
the
others
about
it.
Started
to
look
at
the
prices
(not
really
important)
and
the
current
version
numbers
(much
more
important)
of
computer
software
today.
I
have
no
doubt
that
I'll
be
tempted
when
we
get
into
Platinum
at
Matahari’s
in
Denpasar
or
Harry's
Computers.
I've
also
had
a
stamp
made
that
I
can
use
in
the
Spirax
Note
Pads
that
I
use
as
travel
diaries.
They
fit
comfortably
into
the
shirt
pocket,
which
makes
them
easy
to
carry
at
all
times.
On
the
back
cover
I
paste
a
print
of
my
commonly
used
phrases,
Salamat
pagee,
Apa
Kabar?
and
so
on.
If
I'm
overtaken
by
a
fit
of
'KRAFT'
('Kant
Remember
A
Flaming
Thing')
I
only
have
to
lift
it
part
way
out
of
my
pocket
and
look
down
thro'
the
bifocals
to
have
a
bit
of
a
cheat.
Inside
the
back
cover
I’ve
pasted
a
'cheat
sheet'
conversion
chart
for
100
to
500,00
Rp
(into
A$)
at
exchange
rates
from
4700
to
5200.
I'm
not
too
quick
at
this
bargaining
business
and
find
this
little
cheat
sheet
is
a
great
help
at
telling
me
where
I’m
at
in
the
process.
It's
again
easy
to
refer
to
in
my
shirt
pocket
although
at
times
I've
kept
it
in
the
bum
bag
with
the
calculator
and
Passport
photocopy
used
for
changing
Traveller’s
Cheques.
Anyway,
back
to
the
stamp
which
I've
had
made.
It's
to
note
the
essential
details
of
each
photo
as
I
take
it.
Film
type,
shutter
speed,
'f'
stop,
polarising
filter
use
etc.
I
can
fit
6
stamp
prints
onto
a
page
in
the
notebook
so
24
records
therefore
only
take
up
two
leaves
in
the
book.
(I
only
ever
use
24
shot
film
so
I
can
get
it
printed
to
see
if
I
need
to
repeat
a
shot
that
I'm
not
happy
with.)
If
I
want
to
re-take
a
photo
I
know
what
I
did
the
last
time
because
I've
got
this
record,
and
so
I
know
what
changes
I
need
to
make
to
improve
the
photo.
It's
also
helpful
to
refer
to
later
to
get
some
idea
which
films
handle
different
colours
best;
good
greens
for
rice
paddies,
or
good
yellow
for
flowers,
and
so
on.
We're
due
to
leave
in
8
weeks
from
tomorrow.
For
some
time
I've
been
toying
with
the
idea
of
leaving
before
the
others.
I
have
that
freedom
because
I'm
retired
whereas
the
others
are
constrained
by
work
commitments.
I
could
leave
on
Monday
rather
than
Friday
and
my
reason
for
thinking
about
this
is
that
I'd
like
to
see
the
more
distant
parts
of
Bali;
parts
that
the
others,
Chris
excepted
probably,
are
not
really
enthusiastic
about.
They
are
more
inclined
to
continue
exploring
the
recognised
tourist
areas
and
re-visiting
familiar
and
friendly
haunts,
mainly
shops.
If
I
left
on
Monday
I
would
have
an
extra
4
days
to
follow
my
own
inclinations
without
any
commitments
to
the
others.
And
when
you
are
travelling
with
a
group
there
are
commitments
to
the
party
I
think,
and
I
do
miss
their
company
after
a
day
or
so.
We're
now
due
to
leave
in
7
weeks
tomorrow.
I've
given
up
the
idea
of
leaving
earlier
than
the
others
and
going
off
exploring
-
at
least
this
time.
I've
floated
a
few
questions
on
the
Bali
Forum
and
sent
a
few
faxes
and
e-mails.
The
conclusions
that
I've
come
to
are
that
although
there
are
no
more
flight
costs
involved
(nor
are
there
any
savings
this
close
to
school
holidays)
the
accommodation
cost
of
travelling
as
a
single
are
almost
the
same
as
a
couple!
This
puts
too
great
a
strain
on
the
available
finances.
I've
also
tried
to
find
those
cheap
$5
-
$10-a-night
places
but
frankly,
sight
unseen,
the
thought
of
cold
showers
for
4
days
is
not
appealing,
and
going
to
a
squat
toilet
in
the
dark
back
yard
of
some
unfamiliar
establishment
makes
my
toes
curl.
It's
a
long
time,
also,
since
we
all
flew
out
together
as
we
are
doing
this
time,
in
fact
not
since
the
first
time
we
all
went
in
'94.
I
think
that
this
is
something
I'd
like
to
experience
again.
The
thing
that
finally
sealed
the
fate
of
my
plans
was
Claire's
decision
to
take
some
long
service
leave
next
year.
This
will
give
us
the
chance
to
stay
in
Bali
perhaps
for
4
weeks
or
more,
moving
around
to
different
areas
with
possibly
as
much
a
week
in
one
place,
digging
a
bit
deeper
than
we
have
been
able
to
so
far.
I'll
use
this
trip
to
investigate
and
inspect
some
potential
little
hotels
around
Bedugul/Lake
Bratan/Pura
Ulun
Danu
as
well
as
Lovina/Singaraja,
and
perhaps
even
Candi
Dasa.
7
weeks
tomorrow!
That
makes
it
time
to
pay
for
the
flight
and
accommodations.
I'd
better
make
a
note
of
that.
I'll
be
in
no
end
of
strife
if
I
forget!!!!
6
weeks
to
go
and
we've
booked
Ketut
Juari
for
a
day
trip
up
north.
Pity
he
can'
get
to
us
before
9
am.
I
think
that's
going
to
mean
second
rate
light
for
photos
by
the
time
we
get
to
Bedugul.
Still,
I
can
plan
what
I
might
want
to
do
next
year
when
we
might
have
more
time
in
Bali.
Scot
(Chris'
son)
is
not
coming
with
the
rest
of
us
as
he
wants
to
do
some
flying
training.
He's
due
to
get
there
on
the
second
Monday.
5
weeks
to
go
last
Friday
-
that's
35
days.
I've
managed
to
get
a
Sharp
Electronic
Organiser
to
take
with
us.
It'll
hold
all
of
the
notes
I've
saved
from
the
Bali
Forum
for
the
past
few
months.
It
was
a
bit
disappointing
for
a
start
because
it
doesn't
download
Word
files
directly
from
the
PC.
I've
found
an
intermediary
program
on
the
net
which
translates
Word
files
into
a
language
that
the
Sharp
does
understand
-
and
as
a
bonus
it
allows
downloads
of
more
that
the
2Mb
limit
that
the
Sharp
has
inbuilt.
After
2
days
of
frustration
the
bonus
is
a
welcome
reward.
Tickets
to
be
picked
up
today.
Miserable
weather,
cold,
windy,
wet.
Have
to
take
the
car
to
Glenelg
instead
of
the
bike.
Max
(our
dog
who
usually
rides
on
the
back
of
the
motorbike)
doesn't
seem
to
mind.
It's
warm
in
the
car
with
the
heater
on
full.
Little
problem!
Claire's
flight
ticket
is
for
Mr.
not
Miss.
Has
to
go
back
to
Garuda
for
re-issue
-
Flight
Centre
to
pay
the
re-issue
cost.
Wait
till
I
tell
her!!
Probably
better
to
get
it
fixed
now
than
to
have
some
poor
airline
worker
filleted
on
the
runway
because
he
wouldn't
let
her
onto
the
plane,
and
it
would
be
difficult
to
make
her
look
like
a
'Mr'!
Hotel
bookings
at
Sheraton
Indah
are
for
a
Garden
View
room
instead
of
the
expected
change
to
a
Pool
View.
Flight
Centre
says
that
they
can
fix
that
with
a
fax.
Hope
they're
right.
More
filleting
if
not!!
Salesman
Scot
at
the
Diamonds
Duty
Free
photo
shop
says
that
nearly
all
my
order
is
in.
The
filters
should
arrive
later
this
week
but
I'll
be
lucky
to
get
more
than
half
of
what
I've
ordered
because
I've
picked
out
so
many
odd
ones.
I
guess
I'll
see
on
Friday.
By
then
it'll
only
be
22
days
to
go.
Just
over
a
week
to
go
and
the
tension
is
getting
hard
to
control.
Hell,
I've
even
taken
three
trips
down
to
the
airport
to
try
to
get
decent
photos
of
Garuda
flights
taking
off
so
that
I've
got
the
opening
for
this
year's
photo
album.
I
am
certainly
looking
forward
to
getting
there.
The
only
worry
is
how
many
traumas
there
will
be
when
we
have
to
come
back
at
the
end
of
the
holiday.
Perhaps
this
is
not
something
to
worry
about
before
we
even
leave.
I've
made
up
a
daily
count-down
sheet
onto
which
I
can
write
things
that
have
to
be
done:
haircut,
bottles
of
bubbly
(sorry,
frothy
coffee)
and
cardboard
cartons
of
cold
tea
kept
fresh
in
silver
plastic
liners,
business
card
wallet,
travellers
cheques
and
so
on.
Having
physio
twice
a
week
for
a
crook
back.
It
doesn't
seem
to
be
responding
yet
but
traction
last
session
seemed
to
help.
Only
days
to
go!
Will
it
be
OK?
Still
have
one
camera
filter
to
get.
Expected
it
today
but
it's
not
in!
Next
Wednesday
is
getting
a
bit
too
close
to
the
Friday
am
take
off.
Should
I
take
my
business
elsewhere?
Similar
thoughts
about
my
planned
driver
for
a
day
trip
north.
He
may
be
the
best
there
is
(according
to
the
Forum)
but
is
he
worth
nearly
twice
as
much
as
anyone
else?
I
need
to
canvass
opinions
amongst
the
others
about
this.
Seven
sleeps
to
go.
The
bloody
rupia
has
dropped
to
it's
lowest
rate
for
months
and
months,
and
it's
still
describing
a
line
on
the
graph
paper
like
an
Olympic
(can
I
use
that
word
here
without
paying
royalties
to
someone
in
'Sydeney'
I
wonder?)
diver
wearing
lead
boots!
Why
didn't
I
give
in
to
my
avarice
7
weeks
ago
and
buy
some
rupia
at
the
peak
exchange
rate?
This
is
going
to
put
financial
pressure
on
arrangements
that
I
thought
were
well
and
truly
cemented
down.
Four
sleeps
to
go
-
that's
if
you
can
sleep!
Pick
up
money
and
travellers
cheques
today.
Damn
filter
for
the
new
camera
lens
is
still
not
in.
I'm
trying
to
organise
a
means
of
getting
dog
food
to
the
Bali
Street
Dog
Foundation
-
toy
teddy
bears
to
the
orphanage.
Hell!
Where
is
that
orphanage?
Must
get
Adelaide
T-shirts
for
the
massage
girls
on
the
beach.
Scads
of
e-mails
and
a
new
multi
address
posting
to
set
up
on
Hotmail.
Check
the
Forum
postings.
Does
Fernandez
want
to
start
an
interstate
war
on
the
Forum?
Have
I
encouraged
him
in
my
reply?
Update
the
new
Forum
recommendations
into
the
PC
and
on
to
the
web
page.
Joan
the
Pet
Care
lady
came
over
last
night
to
settle
our
minds
about
Max's
welfare
when
we're
gone.
She
comes
twice
a
day
to
feed
the
beasts
and
to
take
him
for
a
walk.
Cheaper
than
kennels
and
he
stays
in
his
own
familiar
environment,
eating
familiar
food
with
much
less
stress.
Its
well
over
12
months
since
she
was
here
last
but
he
remembers
that
last
time
as
she
left
he
got
doggy
chockies
from
the
boot
of
her
car.
As
soon
as
she
opens
the
front
door
he's
off
and
sitting
by
the
boot
waiting!
I
think
he'll
be
all
right.
had
to
mend
one
of
the
school’s
cooking
pot
for
Claire.
How
do
you
lose
three
out
of
the
four
screws
that
hold
the
handles
on,
but
still
use
it
for
long
enough
to
fill
up
the
three
vacant
holes
with
Lord
knows
what
food
residue?
There
are
things
in
this
world
that
the
mere
male
of
the
species
is
not
designed
to
understand
I'm
sure.
Ketut
is
advised
that
the
trip
north
is
off.
We
may
in
fact
still
do
it
but
it
will
have
to
be
on
a
cheaper
scale
to
fit
the
now
reduced
sum
of
rupia
we
will
get
for
our
bankroll.
We'll
do
this
by
using
local
drivers.
As
this
means
we
can
leave
earlier
perhaps
I'll
get
the
good
photo
light
at
Lake
Bratan
that
I
hoped
for?
I'll
keep
in
contact
with
him
to
(hopefully)
ensure
his
services
next
year
when
we
can
really
explore
the
byways.
Will
I
post
this
on
the
Forum
before
we
leave?
An
attractive
option
as
it
will
mean
all
the
negative
comments
will
be
buried
in
the
archives
by
the
time
we
get
back
and
I
won’t
have
to
read
them.
Aha!
The
missing
camera
filter
is
in.
Race
off
to
pick
it
up,
with
the
cash
and
TC's.
Get
saturated
in
the
day’s
only
rainsquall
so
far.
There
are
mysterious
forces
-
-
Dry
one
soggy
(and
smelly)
Max
before
Claire
gets
home.
What
have
I
forgotten?
Tuesday
12th.
Three
sleeps
to
go.
Phil
rang
last
night.
He
has
a
new
job
and
has
to
come
to
the
city
for
a
conference
on
Thursday
so
Nell
will
also
come
with
him
and
get
in
a
bit
of
Duty
Free
shopping.
They
had
intended
to
drive
down
(or
up
or
across
or
whichever
way
it
is
from
Big
River
country)
on
Thursday
night
so
this
is
really
a
bit
of
a
blessing.
He
also
raised
the
question
of
a
small
Aussie
type
present
for
Liz
and
John,
the
American
couple
who
used
the
Bali
Travel
Forum
to
invite
people
to
their
Bali
wedding.
I
confess
I
hadn't
even
thought
of
it!.
My
suggestion
of
a
tea
towel
(dishcloth?)
with
an
Aussie
motif
drew
heaps
of
scorn
and
derision.
Claire
has
consequently
been
put
in
charge
of
research.
Yesterday
I
recalled
a
Forum
report
in
which
the
writer
described
the
smile
and
kiss
given
by
a
small
child
in
response
to
a
Chuppa
Chup
(small
sweet
on
a
little
stick
-
lollipop?)
gift.
It
was
an
image
which
I
couldn't
resist
and
so
I
went
down
to
the
corner
BiLo
store
and
bought
2
dozen.
The
pile
of
stuff
to
be
packed
continues
to
grow!
Thank
God
the
packing
is
Claire's
task.
I
just
buy
the
stuff.
Max
knows
something
is
afoot
I'm
sure.
He
regularly
jumps
up
onto
the
desk
now
and
quietly,
gently,
insistently,
puts
one
paw
on
my
hand
so
I
can't
continue
these
keyboard
entries.
I
give
him
a
bit
of
a
pat,
scratch
and
squeeze.
He
puts
his
chin
on
my
shoulder
for
a
few
seconds
and
then
curls
up
on
the
towel
next
to
the
mouse
mat
with
an
audible
sigh.
What
to
do
today?
*
Physio
first
at
9.30.
*
Downtown
Duty
Free
for
small
tape
recorder
and
supply
of
tapes.
*
Ring
Garuda.
*
Chemist
for
bottle
of
fluoride
tooth
scrub.
Should
try
for
'Aquaear'
also.
(Another
Forum
recommendation.)
I
had
an
ear
infection
there
last
time
and
it
was
a
miserable
two
days
that
I
don't
want
to
repeat.
*
Find
phone
number
for
'Baliopoly'
for
Nell.
In
Denpasar?
*
Claire's
end-of-term
school
faculty
dinner
tonight.
*
Try
to
remember
what
I've
forgotten
to
get.
Time
to
get
started!
Wednesday
the
13th.
Two
sleeps
to
go.
Last
night
on
the
way
to
Claire's
faculty
dinner
(that
dinner
is
probably
the
reason
the
letters
on
the
screen
look
crooked
this
morning)
she
suggested
giving
Liz
and
John
an
Ostrich
egg
for
their
wedding
present.
Well,
I
suppose
it's
uniquely
Australian
but
the
logistics
of
getting
it
to
Bali,
and
them
getting
it
back
to
the
States
in
one
piece
boggles
the
mind
despite
the
fact
that
the
shell
is
built
like
a
bomb
case!
And
what
would
they
think
of
an
empty
eggshell?
We
differ,
and
so
she
will
contact
higher
authorities
(fellow
travellers)
with
better
taste
than
mine
for
supporting
opinions.
Supporting
her
opinion
that
is.
Retired
teacher's
lunch
today.
I
can't
wait
to
casually
drop
to
old
friends
the
little
message
that
I'm
off
to
Bali
on
Friday.
Have
found
the
phone
number
for
Baliopoly
for
Nell
-
732
617
-
need
to
replenish
the
supply
of
Chateau
Cardboard
(carton
of
everyday
wine)
before
tonight.
Sew
the
dog
food
into
a
hessian
bag
for
transport.
I
guess
the
bag
might
be
useful
as
bedding
too.
Post
to
Helen
on
the
Forum
to
let
her
know
she
has
not
wasted
her
time
raising
the
needs
of
the
Bali
Street
Dogs
Foundation.
Feedback
for
good
deeds
is
too
often
forgotten
these
days
I
think.
Like
the
'Thank
You'
letter
to
hosts
after
a
visit
and
hospitality.
Am
I
showing
an
ancient
set
of
values?
The
ease
and
speed
of
the
net
makes
it
easy
to
do
these
things,
but
easy
to
overlook
them
also
it
seems.
Ah-ha.
I
find
that
Si
Badak
(of
high
status
on
the
Forum)
is
unexpectedly
going
to
Bali
on
Friday
too.
Be
interesting
to
meet
him
face
to
face
over
a
Bintang.
I
believe
he
drinks.
Remembered
to
put
the
waiters
friend
corkscrew
out
for
packing,
and
to
sharpen
the
blade
so
it
will
peel
salaks
and
cut
passion
fruit
(oh
boy,
I
can
taste
them
as
I
type
this)
and
mangosteens.
But
what
have
I
forgotten?
Thursday
and
one
to
go.
Claire's
gone
for
a
job
interview
this
morning.
Not
a
good
time
with
Bali
on
her
mind
but,
'poo
happens',
so
they
say.
Nell
rang
from
up-state
to
wish
her
luck
but
she'd
already
gone.
*
Physio
again
today.
Last
time
before
take
off.
Back's
not
good
and
I've
got
out
the
anti-inflammatory
pills
but
I
think
they've
given
me
the
wrong
ones.
Have
to
go
back
to
the
chemist
and
check.
*
New
flea
collar
for
the
cat.
*
Get
'Chateau
Cardboard'
that
I
forgot
yesterday.
*
Take
CD
player
for
repair
while
we're
away.
*
Check
Forum
for
new
tips
and
print
out
summary
of
recommendations
to
take
with
us.
*
Post
this
on
the
Forum
at
the
last
minute
with
a
separate
warning
posting
so
that
readers
know
what
to
expect.
I
see
on
the
Forum
weather
forecast
that
Bali
is
for
32
degrees
minimum
and
26
overnight,
55%
humidity,
slightly
overcast
and
with
a
14-knot
south-easterly
breeze.
This
is
expected
to
be
repeated
tomorrow
with
a
slight
clearing
of
the
overcast
and
a
consequent
rise
in
temperature.
Here
it
is
14
degrees
and
I
have
just
been
soaked
riding
home
from
the
physio's.
'Why
are
you
going
to
Bali?'
he
asked
me!
Perhaps
I
should
ring
him
from
Bali
tomorrow
and
tell
him?
If
you
have
persisted
this
far,
dear
reader,
you
can
give
yourself
a
grade
of
A++.
The
remainder
will
be
written
(and
posted)
after
our
return.
Filo.
Thursday
September
14,
2000.
LATER,
AFTER
OUR
RETURN
–
The
story
begins
-
If
you
want
to
press
on
to
the
second
episode
(I
promise
that
it's
shorter)
"Getting
There”
is
the
story
of
the
trip
to
Bali,
from
the
short
ride
to
our
airport
and
the
flight
across
the
centre
of
Australia,
over
the
Timor
Sea
to
the
first
glimpse
of
the
Island
of
Smiles.
Garuda Airlines 'Airbus Industrie A-330' leaving Adelaide Airport, 2000.
Up
a
bit
after
5.
AM
that
is.
Been
awake
since
the
toilet
trip
at
about
3
anyway.
Max
wakes
up
and
is
still
groggy
as
I
get
dressed
to
take
him
for
his
normal
walk
at
a
somewhat
abnormal
time.
He
doesn’t
care
–
a
walk
is
a
walk
in
his
world
and
nothing
starts
the
day
off
better.
He
follows
so
close
that
I
can
feel
his
ears
brushing
on
my
ankles
as
I
walk
around
the
house.
It’s
dark
and
cold
outside.
We
don’t
mind
the
dark.
He’s
grey
in
colour
and
I
loose
sight
of
him
as
soon
as
I
let
him
off
the
lead
at
the
oval.
That’s
not
a
worry
because
he
knows
the
check
points
where
we
sometimes
deviate
from
the
well
known
track
and
will
wait
for
me
to
point
if
we
are
going
to
change
directions.
Back
home
about
7
am,
Claire
is
up.
Get
breakfast
as
usual.
Check
e-mail
while
I’m
eating
it
as
usual.
Leave
a
farewell
message
for
friends.
Not
usual
and
I
smile
inwardly
as
I
do
it.
Finish
packing
and
close
the
bags.
Max
knows
now.
Start
loading
bags
into
wrong
car.
Get
the
message
and
correct.
No
1
daughter
Em
and
Max
get
into
car
and
off
to
the
airport.
At
least
this
year
we
wont
feel
the
need
to
apologise
to
a
taxi
driver
for
only
taking
a
short
2
km
trip.
Max
will
be
quite
happy
in
the
car
while
we
leave
and
not
so
upset
when
Em
returns
and
drives
him
home.
Our
departure
in
the
Garuda
Airbus
Industrie
A-330
is
delayed
20
minutes.
It’s
nervous
waiting.
What
do
you
do?
You’ve
said
your
goodbyes
and
checked
the
door
into
the
departure
lounge,
gone
through
the
list
of
things
to
be
done
at
home
while
you’re
away.
Mainly
you
just
stand
mute
and
look.
Eventually
the
door
opens
and
you
part
with
mutual
relief
I
think.
Off
to
the
lounge
and
eventually
to
board.
My
seat
is
38A,
on
the
left
side
against
the
window
and
towards
the
back
of
the
aft
section.
The
plane
taxis
to
the
beach
end
of
the
runway
and
turns
onto
the
runway.
10.10
am.
No
pause,
just
that
surge
of
acceleration,
the
rumble
of
the
wheels
felt
through
the
seat
and
the
floor
but
not
heard
over
the
deafening
roar
of
the
two
Rolls
Royce
engines.
This
is
a
roar
that
is
to
stay
with
us
for
nearly
5
hours
before
abating
as
we
descend
into
Ngurah
Rai
airport.
I
expect
the
take
off
to
be
over
the
city
but
we
begin
to
turn
left
soon
after
clearing
the
airfield,
climbing
at
an
almost
unbelievable
angle
that
I
don’t
recall
from
other
aircraft
in
the
past.
The
turn
takes
us
over
our
house,
or
at
least
looking
down
the
left
hand
wing
as
we
turn
it
seems
that
we
are
over
the
house.
I
can
see
the
clear
plastic
sheets
in
the
workshop
roof
quite
clearly.
The
trees
in
the
back
yard
rise
above
the
shadow
of
the
house
stretched
out
in
the
morning
sunlight.
The
turn
straightens
and
we
head
almost
due
north
up
the
coast
of
Gulf
Saint
Vincent.
Over
the
ICI
salt
pans
and
familiar
fishing
grounds
at
Outer
Harbour
where
the
sand
drifts
are
clearly
defined
in
the
shallow
water.
If
only
they
were
as
clear
from
our
boat
when
we
were
looking
for
productive
fishing
drops!
The
other
side
of
the
gulf
is
also
easily
visible
beyond
the
mangrove
swamps
that
stretch
up
the
eastern
side
of
the
gulf.
The
ground
becomes
a
patchwork
of
many
coloured
fields,
greens
and
yellow
mainly,
with
an
occasional
brown.
Spencers
Gulf
appears
as
we
pass
Port
Wakefield
and
begin
a
left-hand
turn
towards
Bali.
We
have
never
flown
this
way,
always
having
gone
on
the
round-the-world
route
with
Ansett
or
Qantas
via
Melbourne
at
least.
That
route
seems
to
always
have
a
lot
of
cloud
cover
and
is
pretty
dull,
colourless
and,
eventually,
boring.
The
enchantments
of
this
track,
up
the
gulf
and
then
turn
half
left,
are
the
variety
of
the
scenery
(even
later
as
we
cross
the
desert)
and
the
clear
skies
which
enables
you
to
see.
Time
will
tell
if
they
are
enduring
enchantments
I
suppose.
Port
Pirie
and
Whyalla
come
and
go
under
our
left
side
wing,
Port
Augusta
seen
down
through
the
windows
on
the
right
as
we
are
allowed
to
walk
around.
The
shallows
and
the
ship
channel
are
clearly
visible.
Past
Whyalla
the
lines
of
the
Stuart
Highway
heading
north
and
the
Trans
Continental
Railway
going
north
of
west
at
this
stage,
are
visible
landmarks
and
show
that
our
track
is
north
west.
The
occasional
pattern
of
fenced
paddocks
quickly
gives
way
to
endless
scrub,
marked
only
by
red
tracks.
The
video
screens
along
the
cabin
relay
a
steady
stream
of
flight
information
before
the
movies
start.
I
am
curious
and
find
this
of
interest.
We
are
at
10,500
meters
or
34,000
feet,
travelling
at
792
kph
and
we
will
arrive
in
Bali
in
4
hours
and
11
minutes
but
I
don't
think
that
this
takes
into
account
the
time
zone
difference.
Maps
of
both
large
and
small
scale
show
our
little
‘plane
progressing
across
southern
Australia,
or
across
a
much
larger
map
of
this
part
of
the
world,
toward
our
destination.
We
are
all
sitting
in
a
line
directly
across
the
cabin,
which
makes
conversation
impossible
from
end
to
end
due
to
the
noise.
Some
of
us
occasionally
meet
at
the
rear
toilet/crew
bay
where
we
have
a
‘hooligan
soup’
or
two.
Urgent
messages
to
see
this
and
look
at
that
are
relayed
across,
mouth
to
ear.
Into
the
heart
of
central
Australia
the
earth
patterns
are
wandering
black
lines
of
trees
along
dry
watercourses
against
red
sand
soil.
Shadows
show
an
occasional
change
of
elevation
as
a
ridge
appears
or
a
gully
is
deep
enough
to
be
shaded
along
its
bottom.
These
are
the
drainage
patterns
marked
by
vegetation
along
(presumably)
dry
river
and
creek
beds
in
the
Gibson
Desert.
Occasional
red
roads
go
straight
towards
the
horizon
where
they
disappear
in
the
hazy
mists
of
the
distance.
The
graceful
arc
of
the
silver
and
grey
wing
rises
from
the
yellowish
grey
of
the
inversion
layer
along
the
horizon
up
to
the
bright
winglet
at
the
tip
that
itself
contrasts
against
the
deep
blue
of
the
sky
above
us.
Multicoloured
salt
lakes
in
whites,
pinks,
red,
buff,
tan
and
lemon
yellow
appear
sharp
against
brick
red
sand
drifts
and
a
camouflage
pattern
of
blackish
green
strips
of
scrub.
How
far
out
from
the
aircraft
at
this
height
can
you
see
into
the
distance
before
the
features
are
lost
in
the
haze?
If
we
are
at
12,000
meters
can
we
see
12,000
meters
away
from
our
track
across
the
ground?
This
would
mean
that
the
line
of
sight
angles
downwards
at
45
degrees
if
we
ignore
the
earth’s
curvature.
It
seems
to
me
that
I
can
see
at
a
shallower
angle
than
this.
Not
as
little
as
30
degrees
down
from
the
horizontal,
I
think
the
yellowish
mist
is
at
about
that
angle,
but
perhaps
35
or
40
degrees
down.
If
I
am
right
how
far
am
I
seeing?
How
far
away
are
those
distant
lakes
with
the
black
borders?
I
resolve
to
ask
old
friend
Ralph
who’s
a
boffin
and
does
lots
of
flying
with
a
laser
mapping
mob.
He’ll
come
up
with
an
answer
in
a
wink,
and
he’ll
probably
be
right
too.
Is
that
meandering
track
the
stock
route
from
Godfrey
Tank
to
Liberal
Well?
Is
that
patch
Tobin
Lake
or
Percival
Lakes?
And
there
are
two
roads
that
actually
intersect!
What
meetings
might
occur
at
that
lonely
place?
Do
drivers
stop
when
they
arrive
here?
Does
one
give
way
to
the
other
on
his
or
her
right
if
two
vehicles
actually
arrive
together?
Have
two
vehicles
ever
arrived
together?
A
station
property
appears
just
under
the
haze.
As
it
approaches
sheds
are
clearly
visible,
and
a
dirt
airstrip
stands
out
in
a
broad
stroke
of
colour.
Many
tracks
lead
out
from
the
hub
of
the
buildings,
meandering
away
into
the
scrub.
From
here
there
are
no
visible
reasons
for
their
changes
of
direction,
seemingly
at
random
but
probably
not
so.
I
look
up
again
from
making
notes.
It
is
gone!
Were
there
people
down
there
looking
up
as
I
was
looking
down?
Did
anyone
see
our
track
and
remark
on
it?
Are
we
leaving
a
track
to
be
seen?
Ah
ha!
Lunch.
Now
here’s
the
acid
test.
I
select
the
prawns
from
the
menu,
I
think
they
were
described
as
‘spicy’,
rather
than
the
chicken.
Accompanied
with
a
white
wine
that
I’ve
never
heard
of
but
which
turns
out
to
be
a
nice
surprise.
And
so
are
the
prawns.
They
are
very
tasty
and
the
salad
is
crisp
and
cold
with
a
good
dressing.
Prawns
seem
to
be
the
favourite
all
around
me
and
everyone
agrees
that
they
are
good,
even
magnificent
for
airline
food,
certainly
not
to
be
complained
about
anywhere.
The
dessert
is
chocky
sponge
pud
with
raspberry
sauce.
Sweet
for
some
but
the
two
and
a
half
that
I
had
were
all
OK.
Some
of
us
are
still
boozing
but
I’ve
chickened
out
on
this
trip
of
the
refreshment
cart
and
gone
for
lemonade.
There
are
no
complaints
about
the
regularity
of
its
visits,
with
those
who
developed
a
thirst
between
trips
quickly
served
at
the
push
of
the
cabin
crew
button
on
the
seat
handle.
Full
marks
to
Garuda.
Our
concerns
about
flying
cheaply
now
all
dispelled.
The
scenery
out
the
cabin
window
is
pure
central
Australia
in
all
of
its
spectacular
desert
wilderness
best.
Row
upon
row
of
sand
hills,
standing
in
serried
ranks
off
to
the
murky
horizon.
Silver-grey
salt
lakes
on
a
bright
copper
background.
Occasional
green-grey
trails
wander
across
the
canvas.
Dull
colours,
but
sharply
contrasting
one
with
the
other,
and
colourful
none
the
less.
For
over
half
an
hour
the
sand
hills
march
on.
This
must
be
the
Great
Sandy
Desert.
It
is
great.
The
red
turns
to
a
bright
coral
pink
but
the
ridges
go
on.
It
looks
far
more
fascinating
than
the
whorls
of
dots
on
the
map
that
I
am
following.
More
of
the
same
and
yet
more
of
the
same
follows
more
of
the
same.
Then
the
roads
begin
again,
red
lines
through
the
Mandelbrot
patterns
of
scrub
and
sand.
The
coast
must
be
near.
Will
I
see
enough
shape
to
pinpoint
it
on
the
map?
There
it
is.
An
enormous
pattern
of
sweeping
scallops
and
deep
indentations
pointing
to
what
must
be
rivers.
Wide
bays
and
narrow
inlets,
with
short
lengths
of
cliffs
separated
by
splashes
of
broad
cream
coloured
sandy
beaches
edged
with
white
surf
separate
what
must
be
deep
swathes
of
mangroves.
I
have
no
idea
where
we
are
and
the
scale
of
the
map
is
obviously
no
help
in
pointing
to
the
reality
of
the
landscape
shapes
seen
out
of
the
window.
Never-the-less
imagination
reigns
supreme
and
I
convince
myself,
with
the
aid
of
the
little
plane
on
the
map
covering
the
video
screen,
that
we
are
over
the
coast
near
Broome.
But
if
the
great
circle
route
takes
us
north
of
a
straight
line
on
the
map
then
we
are
nearer
Derby
and
King
Sound.
If
southwards
then
closer
to
Lagrange
Bay
at
the
top
end
of
Eightymile
Beach
pointing
further
south
towards
Port
Headland.
(The
trip
home
suggests
that
this
might
be
the
more
accurate
location.)
Magical
names
of
mysterious
places
–
heard
of
but
unknown
although
clearly
pictured
in
the
imagination.
The
curve
of
the
wing,
lifting
towards
that
elegant
winglet
at
the
tip,
has
remained
rock
steady
against
the
azure
of
the
sky
for
so
long
that
it
comes
as
a
bit
of
a
surprise
when
there
is
unexpected
turbulence
which
lightly
shakes
the
seat
as
we
cross
the
coast.
The
blue
and
featureless
expanse
of
the
Indian
Ocean
swallows
the
land
features
that
I
can
point
at.
Somewhere
between
Rowley
Shoals
and
Scott
Reef
I’m
sure.
(I
can
imagine
Ralph
the
Rabbit
reaching
for
the
LADS
maps
I’m
sure
he
would
have
created
with
DSTO
surveys
he
was
doing
before
retiring.)
The
ailerons
on
the
trailing
edge
of
the
wing
have
not
perceptibly
moved
for
as
long
as
I
have
been
able
to
stare
at
them.
We
seem
suspended
and
immobilised.
Absolutely
static
in
a
world
consisting
of
dark
blue
sea
and
deep
blue
sky
with
that
thin
yellowish
haze
marking
the
boundary.
We
seem
to
hang
in
that
line
between
space
and
sea.
Only
the
steady
roar
of
passing
air
and
jet
engines
establish
life,
motion
and
reality
beyond
the
window.
Then,
at
the
precise
time
that
the
toilet
called
me,
turbulence
began.
It
is
difficult
to
control
bodily
functions
when
the
whole
world
between
the
incredibly
close
walls
of
an
aircraft
comfort
station
is
pitching
and
rolling.
It
would
be
incredibly
embarrassing
to
miss.
Perhaps
the
enclosing
size
is
designed
deliberately
to
keep
one
facing
the
right
direction
and
more
or
less
upright.
Relief
at
last.
Stagger
to
the
safety
of
the
seat
and
collapse
into
its
welcoming
security.
Below
us
those
little
puffy
cotton
balls
of
clouds
stand
out
against
the
sea
and
the
streaky
white
washes
that
appear
to
move
above
the
more
defined
clouds.
Where
do
the
cotton
balls
come
from?
What
suddenly
creates
them
here
in
the
unchanging,
featureless
emptiness
of
sky
and
sea?
I
have
spilt
the
toilet
perfume
over
me
(I
only
meant
to
splash
the
wash
basin
surround.)
and
I
stink.
I
think
everyone
is
looking
at
me
as
they
walk
past
in
the
aisle,
wondering
just
what
I
have
done
that
merits
this
excess.
The
clouds
begin
to
disappear
but
the
turbulence
continues
with
the
wing
tip
now
describing
vertical
arcs
across
the
sky,
dipping
down
towards
that
yellow
haze
and
then
rising
into
the
blue.
The
ailerons
are
now
moving
perceptibly.
The
engine
and
wind
noises
continue
without
change.
The
immigration
and
customs
forms
are
brought
around.
Confusion,
and
when
filling
it
in
I
make
an
unforgivable
blunder
of
blatant
honesty
about
alcohol
without
thinking.
I
must
ask
for
another
one.
What
will
they
think?
Will
they
want
the
old
one
to
inspect?
The
request
is
met
without
even
a
tremor
of
an
eyebrow
or
a
discernible
crease
of
the
immaculate
forehead.
The
loudspeaker
rasps
into
life
at
a
pace,
volume
and
pitch
that
each
makes
nonsense
of
understanding.
What
is
being
said?
Even
when
it
is
repeated
in
English
I
can
make
no
words
recognisable
from
the
accent.
I
have
yet
to
become
accustomed
to
the
Asian
pitch,
and
will
find
out
that
I
am
not
to
do
so
for
the
whole
holiday.
The
movies
are
finished
(the
first
one
makes
me
chuckle
aloud
here
and
there
as
indeed
it
does
again
on
the
return
flight)
and
the
earphones
are
collected.
The
little
plane
appears
on
the
big
map
again
and
flight
data
begins
to
roll
through
its
cycle.
39,000
feet,
835
kph
ground
speed,
time
to
destination
34
minutes.
The
picture
of
the
little
aeroplane
is
just
below
the
name
‘Denpasar’.
We
are
nearly
there!
Suddenly
the
engine/air
noise
dies
to
a
whisper
of
its
former
self.
In
the
silence
people
look
at
each
other
and
remarkably
change
to
normal
speech
volume
in
mid
conversation.
The
fuselage
tilts
down.
The
seat
belt
sign
comes
on
with
its
accompanying
gongs.
The
video
information
is
in
English,
Bahasa
Indonesian
and
Japanese
I
think.
Denpasar
is
289
km
away,
with
a
temperature
of
31
degrees
Celsius.
I
can
almost
feel
the
warmth.
How
marvellous.
We
are
on
a
long
glide
path
to
Bali.
The
pattern
of
the
re-appeared
cotton
wool
coalesces
into
broad
sheets
with
dimpled
tops.
The
aircraft
banks
left
and
then
right
for
no
apparent
reason.
Then
a
long
sweeping
bank
to
the
right
begins
with
the
wing
tip
on
my
side
climbing
up
into
the
sky,
well
above
the
now
clearly
defined
horizon
and
I
lose
sight
of
the
sea.
Through
the
window
on
the
far
side
I
can
see
only
cloud
tops.
The
air
is
calm
and
smooth
at
first,
then
little
tremors
again.
The
clouds
are
in
layers,
one
moving
over
the
other
as
we
pass,
but
the
surface
of
the
sea
remains
featureless.
This
is
so
peaceful!
A
sensation
of
just
quietly
floating
(well
almost
if
you
can
push
the
low
noise
of
the
passing
air
into
the
background)
with
only
an
occasional
slight
tremor
in
the
floor
to
underline
the
reality
of
our
motion
which
is
actually
quite
fast.
This
is
a
proper
way
to
approach
Paradise;
respectfully
and
peacefully.
714
kph
ground
speed
–
(444
mph)
–
55
km
to
go
–
(41
miles)
–
15
minutes.
The
flaps
lower
to
their
first
stage
and
the
noise
and
vibration
increases
slightly,
the
airframe
trembling.
The
nose
lowers
to
maintain
airspeed
as
the
aircraft
sinks
more
quickly
through
the
cloud.
A
long
banking
turn
to
the
right
and
as
we
straighten
out
waves
intermittently
appear
on
the
surface
of
the
sea.
Forehead
presses
close
to
the
Perspex
window,
peering
as
far
forward
as
possible
for
the
first
glimpse
of
our
destination.
The
little
plane
at
the
end
of
the
red
line
on
the
video
visibly
jerks
forward,
closer
to
‘DENPASAR’.
Steamy
clouds
obscure
the
view
briefly
as
the
flaps
go
down
further
with
an
hydraulic
whir.
Similar
noises
terminating
in
a
distinct
thump
as
the
landing
gear
goes
down
and
finally
locks
into
place.
A
line
of
surf
appears
forward
in
the
distance,
stark
white
against
the
sparkling
deep
blue
sea
surface
that
begins
to
turn
turquoise
over
patches
of
sand
within
the
darker
coral
reefs.
The
wake
of
a
little
boat
powering
along
in
the
same
direction
as
us
and
even
smaller
prahus
or
jukungs,
traditional
local
fishing
boats
now
devoid
of
their
traditional
crabs-claw
sails,
leave
outboard
motor
trails
in
long
loops
as
they
troll
for
fish.
We
approach
low
and
slow
for
a
minute
or
so
then,
forward
under
the
wing
tip,
appears
the
breakers
of
the
Tuban
reef
just
off
the
end
of
the
runway
that
juts
out
into
the
sea
at
this
western
end.
For
what
seems
a
long
time
we
hang
over
the
runway
which
flashes
by,
then
thump
and
wobble,
the
deceleration
of
heavy
braking
and
reverse
thrust
from
the
engines
cause
bodies
to
strain
forward
against
the
restraining
seat
belts.
We
seem
to
slow
only
just
at
the
end
of
the
runway
and
turn
quickly
into
the
last
run-off
leading
to
the
taxi
strip.
Left
turn
again
and
we
retrace
our
landing
path
back
towards
the
terminal.
My
view
now
is
across
the
airfield
to
the
bordering
banana
trees
and
coconut
palms
rising
over
low,
leafy
growth
and
rice
fields
rising
up
the
slight
slope
into
the
distance.
How
picture
book,
Hollywood,
tropical,
typical
Bali!
To
complete
the
Hollywood
atmosphere
there
is
an
old,
vintage
looking
biplane
parked
at
the
edge
of
the
runway.
It
is
more
remarkable
because
it
is
painted,
totally,
a
bright
lolly
pink.
We
stop
short
of
the
terminal
buildings
and
covered
stairways
are
wheeled
up
to
the
doors
while
buses
follow
quickly
to
their
bottom
ends.
We
gather
luggage
from
the
lockers
and
join
the
slow
queue
to
leave.
As
we
near
the
doors
the
warm
air
surrounds
us
and
perspiration
pops
out
on
foreheads
chilled
from
the
plane’s
air-conditioning.
A
short
ride
to
the
immigration
building
and
we
join
the
short
lines
forming
at
each
counter.
We
have
arrived,
and
it
feels
so
good.
Filo
2.10.00
. . . graceful arc of the silver and grey wing rises from the yellowish grey of the inversion along the horizon
to the bright winglet at the tip that contrasts against the deep blue of the sky above . . .
Now here are some links that will -
*
take
you
back
to
our
Home
page
-
*
take
you
to
more
photos
of
our
first
four
days
at
the
Sheraton
Nusa
Indah
in
Nusa
Dua.
BALI STORY 2000 - Day 1.
Our first four nights of the 2000 holiday were at the Bali Sheraton Indah Hotel, a large and luxurious place in the up-market tourist enclave of Nusa Dua, a district on the east coast of southern Bali.
Day 1 covers the drama of the short ride from the airport to the Sheraton, the things that just don't work in Bali - no matter which hotel you're in, "Pool side"?, money changing and - what comes next?
Permanent 'guests' in the grounds of the Sheraton.
Ducks
play
an
important
and
fascinating
part
of
Balinese
country
life,
but
you
do
not
expect
to
see
them
wandering
in
the
grounds
of
a
5*
hotel
!!
Not
only
do
they
provide
eggs
and
meat
for
the
Balinese
but
they
provide
a
profession
for
the
duck
herders
who
contract
to
clean
pests
from
the
rice
fields
with
their
flocks.
The
flock
is
trained
to
follow
the
shape
of
a
particular
tassel
suspended
from
the
tip
of
a
long,
light
bamboo
pole.
By
moving
the
tassel
right
or
left,
forward
or
back,
the
herder
takes
to
ducks
to
the
correct
fields
and
avoids
those
he
has
not
been
paid
to
clean.
I'm
told
that
in
the
Catholic
Parish
residence
in
Tuka
there
is
a
local
picture
depicting
Christ
as
a
duck
herder,
the
missionaries
finding
no
sheep
to
form
His
flock
in
Bali
they
wisely
substituted
what
was
known.
Friday
15
September
2000.
Day
1.
After
a
very
pleasant
flight
with
Garuda
and
a
smooth
passage
through
the
Immigration
checks,
with
none
of
the
delays
anticipated
from
previous
experiences,
we
secured
a
porter
with
a
nice
crisp
$5
note
and
waited
for
the
luggage
to
appear.
Again,
little
delay,
and
no
dreaded
chalk
crosses
on
the
cases
despite
being
more
than
1
or
2
kilos
overweight.
The
18
kilos
of
dry
dog
food
for
the
Bali
Street
Animal
Foundation
sat
in
its
hessian
sack
on
top
of
everything
else
as
we
marched
off
to
the
Customs
desk.
We
were
heading
straight
through
behind
the
porter
when
the
unusual
sack
caught
The
Man’s
eye
and
he
imperiously
pointed
at
it
and,
almost
in
the
same
motion,
beckoned
us
over.
Needless
to
say
we
obeyed
without
hesitation,
well
maybe
I
did
for
just
a
fraction
of
a
second
but
not
enough
to
be
noticed.
We
had
written
all
over
the
bag
what
was
in
it
and
to
whom
it
was
going,
but
we
were
required
to
explain
it
in
detail
anyway
for
his
benefit.
When
he
was
convinced
that
we
were
not
pulling
his
leg
he
broke
into
a
smile
which
may
really
have
been
a
restrained
laugh.
Who
would
ever
think
of
bringing
food
all
the
way
to
Bali
to
feed
the
dogs?
In
case
we
really
were
crazy,
and
it
might
have
been
catching,
we
were
quickly
sent
on
our
way.
The
glass
containers
of
bubbly
tea
and
the
cardboard
cartons
of
pre-mixed
coffee
remained
safely
where
they
were,
far
down
away
from
casual
eyes.
Nell
negotiated
a
6
seater
to
take
all
our
gear
and
us
from
the
airport
to
the
Sheraton
Nusa
Indah.
With
consummate
skill
and
little
delay
his
opening
price
of
$20
became
an
accepted
$10
and
we
were
loaded
and
away.
The
pleasant
ride
along
Jalan
By
Pass
Ngurah
Rai
to
Nusa
Dua
came
to
an
abrupt
end
when
the
proffered
$10
Australian
was
vigorously
rejected
and
$10
US
(nearly
double)
was
demanded
in
an
uncharacteristic
display
of
loud
anger.
Nothing
would
calm
the
situation
and
what
I
thought
was
a
reasonable
explanation,
that
he
was
meeting
a
plane
from
Australia
and
we
didn’t
sound
at
all
like
Americans
and
he
had
not
specified
US
dollars
in
the
negotiations,
were
a
waste
of
time.
The
offered
money
was
pushed
back
at
me
with
contempt
and
words
I
didn’t
understand
but
could
have
a
good
guess
at.
Eventually
he
stormed
off
and
I
went
to
join
the
others
at
the
check-in
desk
inside
the
hotel
with
the
money
in
my
shirt
pocket.
A
few
minutes
later
he
stormed
back
accompanied
by
(I
think)
the
hotel
Reception
Manager.
I
explained
what
had
transpired
in
detail
and
again
offered
the
money
that
was
again
brushed
aside.
He
was
asked
to
leave
and
stormed
off
once
more.
The
Manager
shrugged
his
shoulders
and
went
back
to
whatever
he
was
doing.
I
was
not
aware
until
later
that
the
driver
had
then
gone
to
Phil
and
demanded
his
money.
Thinking
that
I
had
already
paid
him
Phil
waved
his
hands
and
said,
‘No!’
This
did
not
ease
the
situation
and
shortly
he
was
back
yelling
at
me
again.
Again
I
offered
the
money
and
in
very
clear
English
he
asked
if
I
expected
him
to
give
me
a
tip
too,
and
held
out
a
note.
His
ability
to
use
quite
clear
English
that
I
could
now
easily
understand
suddenly
annoyed
me
and
I
said,
‘Thank
you’,
and
reached
for
the
note
he
was
offering.
It
was
withdrawn
with
the
speed
of
light
and
the
A$10
I
was
holding
out
snatched
up
at
least
as
quickly.
As
he
stormed
off
for
the
final
time
he
threatened
to
kill
Phil
which
I
thought
was
very
brave
of
him
as
Phil
is
not
a
small
mountain
of
humanity.
He
seemed
to
think
better
of
it
when
Phil
turned
and
looked
at
him,
leaving
without
any
further
word.
I
am
still
puzzled
by
this
confrontation,
as
it
is
quite
un-typical
of
the
people.
In
all
our
visits
I
don’t
think
any
of
us
had
seen
anything
like
it.
The
spacious
and
spectacular
towering
entrance
lobby
of
the
Sheraton
returned
to
its
normal
calm
and
we
relished
the
welcome
drinks
that
were
offered.
The
check
in
procedure
was
smooth
and
very
pleasant,
more
so
probably
in
comparison
with
our
recent
confrontation.
Even
the
sack
of
dog
food
was
calmly
stored
for
future
collection
and
an
official
receipt
issued
to
me.
Regrettably
we
were
all
allocated
rooms
in
different
wings
and
on
different
floors
of
the
hotel.
The
Sheraton
is
a
quite
large
hotel
and
we
were
to
get
lost
a
few
times
going
from
one
room
to
another,
hindered
by
the
lack
of
little
number
plaques
and
arrows
that
are
common
aids
in
other
places.
Our
room
was
supposed
to
be
a
‘pool
view’
room.
It
would
be
more
accurate
however
to
describe
it
as
a
‘poolside’
room
(as
opposed
to
an
‘outside’
room
I
suppose).
The
only
view
of
water
was
a
small
corner
of
the
duck
pond
visible
through
a
thinner
area
of
the
intervening
screen
of
coconut
palm
fronds
on
one
side
of
the
balcony.
‘Poolside’
too,
I
guess,
could
be
open
to
funny
interpretations,
as
we
were
certainly
not
near
the
side
of
the
pool,
which
was
quite
a
trek
away.
Our
decision
to
have
a
swim
before
heading
off
to
do
some
quick
shopping
for
sustenance
necessities
lead
to
the
discovery
that
the
shower
was
only
capable
of
dribbling
straight
down,
almost
against
the
wall
at
the
end
of
the
bath.
A
shower
over
the
bath
in
a
hotel
of
this
class
is
not
something
I
expect
(but
in
fairness
I
must
say
that
it
was
not
something
that
either
of
the
others
endured
in
their
rooms)
and
to
have
it
so
dangerously
unusable
was
a
nuisance.
A
quick
call
to
housekeeping
brought
the
promise
of
a
plumber
to
attend
to
it
and
I
had
no
sooner
hung
up
from
this
call
than
I
found
that
the
in-room
safe
would
not
lock.
Things
were
going
from
bad
to
worse.
I
was
getting
a
little
up
tight
as
I
made
a
second
call
to
housekeeping.
I
had
no
sooner
hung
up
from
this
call
than
Claire
began
to
orbit
at
high
speed
looking
for
the
two
bottles
of
Chivas
Regal
scotch
that
she
had
bought
Duty
Free.
And
her
new
sunglasses
were
also
missing!
The
door
chimed
and
the
plumber
materialised
in
a
remarkably
short
time
from
the
call
for
help.
Claire
disappeared
back
to
the
lobby
to
look
for
the
wayward
scotch
and
the
plumber
quickly
declared
the
shower
rose
broken,
promising
to
return
shortly
with
a
new
one.
To
my
utter
surprise
he
was
back
in
about
three
minutes
with
a
replacement
which
he
fitted
in
about
the
same
time
before
calling
me
to
inspect
and
approve
the
performance
of
the
replacement.
It
truly
was
a
transformation
and
I
congratulated
him
on
the
efficiency
and
quality
of
his
work.
He
confided
that
he
had
taken
the
replacement
from
the
vacant
room
next
door
and
would
bring
a
proper
one
later
in
the
afternoon.
I
was
astonished!
As
the
plumber
left
another
man
with
a
small
bag
and
a
screwdriver
arrived
to
fix
the
safe.
Ah
ha,
I
thought,
this
is
more
like
Bali
service.
A
screwdriver
to
fix
a
malfunctioning
electronic
safe
that
is,
I
hope,
securely
bolted
to
the
floor
with
tamper-proof
nuts.
Again
I
am
confounded
as
he
quickly
tries
the
locking
process,
nods,
and
prescribes
new
batteries
which
he
has
in
his
little
bag!
Well,
I
am
silenced
as
he
quickly
unscrews
the
inner
cover
of
the
door,
removes
the
small
plastic
battery
holder,
inserts
four
new
AA
batteries,
replaces
the
door
cover
and
demonstrates
the
success
of
his
work.
Less
than
five
minutes
again!
I
am
left
confused
by
feeling
on
the
one
hand
that
the
hotel
is
falling
apart
and
on
the
other
hand
applauding
service
that
I
would
probably
not
get
in
a
5*
hotel
at
home.
A
quick
trip
to
the
lobby
bar
secures
a
double
Chivas
over
lots
of
ice
and
a
splash
of
soda
to
ease
Claire's
anguish
at
her
loss.
It
helps
only
a
little.
Given
this
level
of
attention
to
life's
problems
things
are
looking
up
a
bit
and
positively
shine
a
little
later
when
Nell
turns
up
with
the
missing
scotch.
We
have
a
quick
dip
in
the
pool,
to
which
everyone
gives
a
big
thumbs
up
although
we
think
that
the
rooms
at
the
Hilton
which
we
had
last
year
were
larger
and
had
a
better
layout.
By
Taksi
to
the
PT
Money
Changers
at
the
Kodak
shop
opposite
the
Kin
Khao
Restaurant
on
Jl
Dewi Kartika.
We
used
Pt
Central
changers
exclusively
throughout
our
stay
and
never
faulted
them.
This
Kodak
shop
was
one
we
most
frequently
used
as
it
was
conveniently
located
for
us,
but
those
at
other
shops
and
the
main
Department
stores
like
Matahari
and
Ramayana
were
equally
trustworthy.
Our
only
complaint
was
the
delay
at
busy
times
and
the
annoying
frequency
that
Matahari’s,
in
particular,
ran
out
of
money.
I
think
that
this
was
sometimes
when
the
girl
just
wanted
a
break,
as
nothing
significant
seemed
to
happen
before
the
service
started
up
again.
The
rate
at
the
time
was
Rp4650
to
one
Aussie
dollar.
It
varied
at
least
once
daily,
from
a
low
of
Rp4550
to
a
high
of
Rp4700
as
we
were
leaving
to
go
home
two
weeks
later.
From
Kodak
to
TJ’s
restaurant
in
Poppies
Lane
for
dinner.
As
good
as
ever,
two
courses
and
three
large
cold
Bintangs
for
Rp57,000
(A$12.26)
on
average
for
each
of
the
six
of
us.
Not
the
cheapest
meal
we
would
find
in
Bali
but
we
didn’t
expect
it
to
be.
We
knew
we
would
be
satisfied
with
the
quantity
and
quality.
Sure
enough,
everyone
is
Happy
as
we
stroll
out
into
the
cooling
night
air.
What
a
pity
such
good
food
and
service
is
marred
by
toilets
which
I
graded
only
4/10.
Off
to
Matahari’s
for
the
essential
stocks;
cheese,
biscuits,
mixer
drinks
etc,
and
then
a
Taksi
back
to
the
Sheraton,
well
satisfied
with
our
short
first
day.
Coming
with
Garuda
certainly
beats
arriving
at
midnight
or
after
as
we
have
done
before
on
other
carriers.
It
really
adds
a
bonus
half
day
to
the
holiday
and
you
wake
up
fresh
for
the
start
of
the
first
full
day,
not
feeling
as
though
you
had
celebrated
a
bit
too
much
the
night
before.
We
all
gave
it
a
big
tick
of
approval!
3.10.00
From
here
you
can
go
on
to
Day
2
which
tells
of
the
pool,
the
beach
and
the
first
massage.
Breakfast
at
the
Galleria
and
flirtatious
locals.
Shopping
prices,
spectacles
and
Versace.
The
search
for
a
white
shirt
and
dinner
prices
in
Bualu
village.
If
you
would
like
to
see
more
photos
of the
first
4
days
of
our
stay
at
the
Sheraton
Indah
in
Nusa
Dua
you
can
click
this
link.
If
you
want
to
go
to
our
Home
Page
and
follow
other
links
to
different
stories
or
other
Bali
site
links
you
can
click
on
this
link.
An
early
morning
view
of
the
Sheraton
Nusa
Indah
pool
and
south
wing
of
suites.
There
are
many
more
people
later
in
the
day.
Dawn breaks and two fishermen tend their traps at the edge of the reef just off the Sheraton beach.
Saturday
16
September
2000.
An
early
morning
swim
and
the
pool
at
the
Sheraton
Indah
is
still
very
nice.
There
are
few
people
around
in
the
hotel,
not
in
the
pools
nor
in
the
restaurants
or
in
the
bars
or
on
the
beach.
I
decide
to
go
for
a
bit
of
an
exploratory
walk
along
the
beach
to
get
then
lie
of
the
land.
The
tide
is
out
leaving
the
roped
floats
which
mark
the
hotel’s
piece
of
(partly
cleared)
sand
resting
on
the
flat
reef,
pools
and
patches
of
sand.
Further
out
towards
the
main
reef
fishermen
are
lifting
and
re-setting
their
strip
bamboo
traps,
tying
them
to
lumps
of
dead
coral
with
flimsy
and
much
knotted
string.
The
idea
seems
to
be
to
anchor
the
‘bottom’
ends
so
that
the
opening
faces
down
tide
flow,
thereby
encouraging
fish
to
swim
up
current
and
into
the
one
way
opening.
Others
are
wading
the
shallows
with
floating
baskets
or
foam
boxes,
bent
double
and
peering
intently
down
into
the
water.
The
Security
Guard
tells
me
that
they
are
collecting
shells
and
small
crabs.
Southwards
down
the
beach
there
is
a
small
headland
joined
to
the
shore
by
only
the
narrowest
of
sand
strips.
At
this
distance
there
appears
to
be
a
building
on
the
crest
of
the
headland
and
I
think
that
it
would
be
the
sort
of
place
where
you
could
expect
to
find
a
temple
of
some
sort.
I
decide
to
wander
along
the
beach-edge
path
in
the
opposite
direction
this
morning
and
investigate
the
headland
later.
As
I
walk
along
the
waters
edge
sellers
appear
out
of
the
palm
trees
at
the
northern
end
offering
sarongs,
shells,
kites
and
massages.
The
girls
get
some
sarongs
that
are
a
bit
different
to
those
of
past
years
and
I
opt
for
a
back
massage
for
Rp
25,000
for
half
an
hour.
The
massage
is
good
but
hard,
and
probably
overpriced
but
really
it’s
only
A$5.50
and
this
is
Nusa
Dua
after
all!
Looking north, up the beach. At low tide the edge of the reef appears near the groynes. - Looking south. The shallow bay is just behind the end of the trees on the left.
We
decide
to
breakfast
at
the
Nusa
Dua
Galeria,
(a
collection
of
shops
of
all
kinds
originally
set
up
the
cater
to
Nusa’s
Japanese
clientele,
and
therefore
rather
high
class
and
certainly
high
priced
compared
with
similar
outlets
at
Tuban/Kuta/Legian/Seminyak)
a
short
walk
away
in
the
warming
morning
air.
After
investigating
the
nearest
few
restaurants
we
decide
on
UNO’s
near
the
supermarket.
An
American
breakfast
is
Rp86,031
for
two,
with
tax
and
service
charge
added
and
after
a
30%
discount
was
applied.
Nice,
but
not
that
nice,
and
not
a
filling
quantity
either.
We
lined
up
at
a
money
change
situated
in
a
small
booth
near
the
restaurant
and
waited
–
and
waited
–
and
waited!
The
rate
was
comparable
with
what
we
later
saw
in
Kuta
but
the
computer
connection
was
soooo
slow.
While
the
others
went
off
to
spend
their
recently
gained
rupia
I
had
a
chat
to
two
locals
at
the
nearby
Information
Booth.
One,
a
particularly
attractive
young
girl
perhaps
in
her
20’s,
was
badly
scarred
on
her
arm
and
shoulder
from
a
motorbike
accident
and
probably
earnest
but
terribly
unskilled
plastic
surgery.
They
marked
on
my
map
the
location
of
the
Dijon
Deli
that
we
had
heard
about
and
wanted
to
visit.
Each
year
we
seem
to
take
over
kilos
of
nibbles
in
the
form
of
cracker
biscuits,
pates,
cheeses,
smoked
oysters,
dips
and
so
on.
We
had
noticed
the
increased
range
of
some
of
the
more
common
items
and
brands
in
Matahari’s
but
would
be
very
happy
if
we
could
fill
out
the
selection
at
Dijon's
and
so
save
the
weight.
As
it
turned
out
we
looked
in
vain
for
Dijon's
as
we
passed
the
God
statue
with
the
coiled
snake
quite
a
few
times
but
never
saw
it
and
did
not
stop
to
really
search.
Our
conversation
soon
attracted
a
couple
of
the
local
lads
who
were
probably
there
chatting
up
the
girls
(it
goes
on
in
every
culture
I
think,
doesn’t
it?).
The
usual
‘Where
are
you
from?’
questions
prompted
a
mini
geography
lesson
with
a
(dodgy)
map
of
Java,
Bali
and
Australia
drawn
in
my
notebook.
(Chris
actually
carries
printed
maps
of
this
section
of
the
world
with
the
various
names
of
places
written
in
Indonesian.
They
are
an
instant
hit
when
he
pulls
one
out,
and
it
inevitably
gets
passed
around
with
much
interest.)
I
am
regularly
surprised
by
their
knowledge
of
Australian
cities
but
the
concept
of
‘states’
bothers
them.
I
tried
this
year
to
use
the
analogy
of
the
divisions
in
Java
but
it
was
not
a
total
success
because
I’m
not
sure
of
the
system
there
myself.
I
have
to
say
that
their
knowledge
of
Oz
is
far
better
than
my
knowledge
of
even
the
main
islands
of
Indonesia.
I
make
a
formal
introduction
between
the
young
girl
and
Chris.
She
agrees,
shyly,
that
he
is
a
very
handsome
man
and
that
he
has
nice
pale
skin
and
beautiful
fair
hair,
blushing
all
the
time,
I
think.
We
are
really
never
satisfied
it
seems.
She
was
the
first
but
not
the
last
to
express
admiration
for
light
skin
and
hair
and
blue
eyes
(even
though
Chris
insists
in
great
detail
and
absolute
sincerity
that
blue
eyes
are
no
good
in
the
dark).
Most
of
us
westerners
with
these
traits
however,
spend
countless
hours
in
the
sun,
and
considerable
agony
at
times,
trying
to
achieve
what
the
Balinese
already
have
but
don’t
desire.
Did
I
mention
shoppers
and
shopping
earlier?
Well
would
you
believe
that
within
walking
distance
there
is
Armani’s,
D
&
G’s,
etc,
etc,
etc.
And
I
missed
out
on
all
of
them
–
this
time
round.
We
did
later
wander
into
the
Keris
Department
Store
in
the
Galeria
where
I
checked
the
prices
of
some
items
that
did
interest
me;
-
Jacobs
Creek
Chardonnay
’99
Rp160,000
(A$34.50),
-
Hardy’s
Nottage
hill
Chardonnay
’99,
Rp164,350
(A$35.35),
-
Rosemont
Shiraz
’99
Rp205,100
(A$44.10),
-
Houghtons
White
Burgundy
’99
Rp164,350
-
Martini
Bianco
Vermouth
Rp183,700
-
Chivas
Regal
Scotch
375
ml,
Rp240,500,
(A$51.75),
-
750
ml
Rp396,400
(A$85.25)
-
Penfolds
Semillon
Chardonnay
’97
Rp203,000
-
Wolf
Blass
Shiraz
Cab.
’98
Rp
248,925
(A$53.55)
-
Rosemont
Estate
Traminer
Riesling
’99
Rp173,850,
and
so
on.
At
the
upstairs
Keris
Café
where
we
had
a
late
lunch,
a
small,
cold
Bintang
was
Rp12,000
(at
most
restaurant/cafe
happy
hours
a
large
Bintang
is
Rp7,000)
burgers
were
Rp13
–
18,000,
fries
Rp5,000,
spaghetti
bolognaise
Rp18,700,
nasi
goreng
(very
nice
but-)Rp19,500
(A$4.20).
Now
many
would
argue
that
A$4.20
is
damn
cheap
for
a
spag
bol,
and
it
is
(or
it
would
be
if
you
could
get
it
at
this
price
in
a
mid-class
eatery)
in
Australia.
But
we
are
not
in
Australia,
we
are
in
Bali
where
we
were
to
have
many
similar,
good
meals
at
half
these
prices,
and
no
one
was
going
‘bunk
root’
because
of
those
prices.
There
is
much
nice
dress
jewellery
at
the
foot
of
the
stairs
leading
up
to
the
Keris
Café,
but
when
you
have
made
your
selection
the
difficult
part
comes
and
you
have
to
run
the
gauntlet
of
the
serving
tribe.
First
you
have
to
find
the
right
cashiers
table.
The
wrong
one
simply
wont
do,
but
you
will
be
escorted,
with
great
respect
and
dignity
but
no
haste,
to
the
correct
one
–
which
is
not
always
the
nearest
or
the
most
obvious
one
from
where
you
made
your
selection.
Even
the
Shop
Assistant
who
writes
you
the
required
triplicate
docket
and
must
accompany
you
on
your
journey
may
take
you
off
in
the
wrong
direction.
(Is
this
just
because
they
want
to
see
a
friend
along
the
way?
Or
is
it
in
hope
that
you
might
see
something
else
in
their
department
that
you
will
buy?)
Eventually
the
goods
and
money
are
passed
on
to
a
Checking
Assistant
who
inspects
the
docket
and
the
counts
the
cash.
The
checking
Assistant
then
passes
the
cash
on
to
the
cashier,
who
counts
it
again
and
works
the
money
till.
Meanwhile
the
goods
and
the
second
docket
are
passed
to
the
wrapper
who
checks
the
goods
against
the
docket
triplicate
that
is
vigorously
stamped
before
the
goods
are
wrapped.
Any
change
due,
and
the
duplicate
docket
is
passed
back
to
the
checker
who
counts
it
out
for
you
to
also
check
and
accept
and
finally
staples
the
triplicate,
stamped
docket
over
the
opening
of
the
little
(or
big)
carry
bag.
After
nods
and
‘Terimah
kasihs’
(‘Thank
you’)
all
round,
with
smiles
of
course,
you
are
able
to
wander
off
and
the
Shop
Assistant
goes
back
to
her
allotted
station.
This
system
is
not
peculiar
to
Keris
I
must
say.
All
of
the
larger
stores
more
or
less
follow
a
similar
pattern.
There
really
should
not
be
any
unemployment
in
Bali.
This
system
could,
with
a
little
imagination,
be
extended
to
street
and
beach
sellers,
taxis
and
other
areas,
thus
possibly
requiring
even,
the
importation
of
labour
from
other
islands.
We
also
lined
up
for
prescription
eye
glasses
at
the
Optic
store
in
the
Galeria.
Frame
prices
ranged
from
Rp65,000
(less
than
A$15.00)to
over
Rp2,000,000
for
Italian
frames.
Yes,
that’s
2
million
rupia.
A$430
!
With
cheaper
frames
my
single
focus
glasses
for
use
at
the
computer
(and
not
to
be
taken
down
to
the
workshop,
I
promise)
cost
Rp275,000
(less
than
A$60.00).
These
were
more
expensive
that
those
chosen
by
the
others
because
my
eyes
don’t
both
look
in
the
same
direction
as
most
peoples
do.
The
others
were
ready
next
day
but
mine
took
a
week
and
I
had
to
pay
a
Rp
50,000
deposit.
Off
to
a
taxi,
via
a
second
visit
to
the
Versace
shop
where
there
was
up
to
70%
off
‘normal’
prices.
But
I
didn’t
understand
that
the
girls
needed
new
clothes
for
tomorrows
wedding
in
Ubud.
This
visit
takes
three
quarters
of
an
hour
and
a
few
hundred
thousand
rupia.
I
also
didn’t
understand
how
you
could
wear
5
pairs
of
jeans
(all
new)
to
the
wedding.
I
am
indeed
a
simple
soul!
I
am
assured
however
that
they
are
cheap.
Genuine
Versace
jeans
for
Rp169,000
(A$35),
tops
for
Rp100,000
(A$21.50).
And
then
to
the
taxi
–
but
not
to
the
hotel.
We
first
need
to
stop
at
the
local
markets,
on
both
sides
of
the
road,
at
the
end
of
Jalan
By
Pass
Ngurah
Rai.
I
think
Phil
must
have
known
about
this,
or
at
least
suspected,
but
didn’t
warn
me.
He
and
Jay
decided
to
walk
back
to
the
hotel!
By
the
time
we
have
finished
‘just
5
minutes’
at
the
markets
I
am
sure
that
I
have
walked
ten
times
that
distance.
I
bought
a
floppy
hat
to
keep
the
sun
off
my
dome
whilst
standing
and
walking.
I
paid
Rp15,000
and
later
bought
another
identical
one
at
the
Kuta
markets
for
Rp10,000.
But
we
had
to
find
a
new
white
shirt
for
the
wedding.
A
pity
really,
but
we
didn’t
find
one.
I
can’t
believe
that
still.
Mind
you
we
did
manage
to
load
a
few
bags
into
the
taxi
eventually.
‘Jalan,
Jalan,
Jalan’.
Walking,
walking,
walking!
‘Jalan!
And
I
really
did
think
I
was
going
back
to
the
hotel.
I
realised
that
I’ve
fallen
for
a
three
card
trick
again.
Eventually
we
did
get
back
to
the
hotel
and
a
dip
in
the
refreshing
pool.
A
champagne
or
two
and
a
couple
of
beers,
shower,
dress
(some
of
those
new
jeans
got
a
try
out
before
the
wedding
I
have
to
say)
and
off
to
Hann's
restaurant
in
Bualu
for
a
much
anticipated
dinner.
The waterfall in the Sheraton pool.
There is a pool bar to the left when you go through under the waterfall.
At
Hanns
restaurant
regular
whisky
is
Rp27,000
(A$5.80),
premium
whisky,
Johnny
Walker
Black
Label,
Jack
Daniels,
is
Rp29.700
(A$6.40).
Cocktails
are
Rp33,000,
(A$7.10)
Mumm
Cordon
Rouge
Champagne,
750
mils,
is
Rp850,000
(A$182.80)or
Rp37,500
by
the
glass
(A$8.10).
House
wines
are
Rp37,500
(A$8.10)
by
the
glass,
a
half
litre
carafe
Rp105,000
(A$22.60)
or
1
litre
is
Rp210,000
(A$45.20).
Rose
house
wines
are
a
little
cheaper.
It’s
probably
the
local
Hattens
wine.
A
small
Bintang
is
Rp10,900
(A$2.35),
large
Rp16,000
(A$3.45),
beer
by
the
pitcher
Rp50,000.
(A$10.75),
Fosters
and
VB
is
Rp30,500
(A$6.56),
I
guess
by
the
can
or
small
bottle.
Soft
drinks
are
Rp8,000,
Diet
Coke
Rp12,000
(A$1.72
and
A$2.58).
We
have
been
fans
of
Hanns
since
we
first
ate
there,
and
I
have
regularly
recommended
them
on
the
Bali
Travel
Forum,
but
this
year
was
a
great
disappointment
to
us.
We
sat
at
our
table
for
almost
half
an
hour
before
we
approached
a
waitress
and
asked
for
drinks.
She
suggested
that
we
go
to
the
bar
and
order
what
we
wanted.
At
the
bar
we
were
initially
refused
service
but
eventually
our
order
was
accepted,
but
not
at
Happy
Hour
prices
as
it
was
one
minute
past
the
deadline!
Our
protests
that
we
had
been
waiting
fell
on
deaf
ears
until
the
manager
(?)
was
approached
and
eventually
agreed
that
we
could
have
one
round
of
drinks
at
Happy
hour
prices.
Eventually
our
orders
were
taken
but
delays
continued.
A
New
Zealand
couple
and
their
two
children,
who
shared
the
bus
from
the
Sheraton
to
Hanns,
finished
their
meal
and
were
leaving
as
the
first
of
our
entrees
was
served.
The
restaurant
did
not
seen
to
be
totally
full
and
we
did
book
beforehand.
Our
plans
to
return
to
the
Hann
for
breakfasts
while
we
were
at
Nusa
Dua
went
out
the
window.
My
entrée
of
Crispy
Spring
Rolls
(Rp15,000),
were
very
tasty
but
were
NOT
crispy.
The
main
course
of
Crispy
Prawns
with
lemon
sauce
was
Rp45,000.
5.10.00
Day 3 involves massages, more money changing, breakfast in Benoa, Sukawati, the wedding we didn't get to and compensation.
Sunday
17
September
2000.
START
THE
DAY
WITH
A
MASSAGE
ON
THE
BEACH
!
Now
there’s
a
motto
for
life;
and
one
to
live
for.
If
only
.
.
.
.
.
.
This
morning
she
gets
those
sore
spots.
Just
when
you
are
about
to
cry,
“Hold.
Enough!”,
she
smooths
it
all