The wind on my face as I stepped out of the airport was brisk. I was not expecting chilly weather in Vietnam, albeit I didn’t research what season it was. After 18 hours of overnight travel, with little sleep (even though I took advantage of two lounge visits in the epic Singapore airport), it felt necessary.
I caught a public bus to the city because it was the cheapest option. I was rolling the dice on navigating to my hostel without internet but it seemed like a good time for an adventure.
The Backpackers I reserved was in the Old Quarter of Hanoi. Walking the narrow streets at dusk was a treat. There was so much vibrancy in the hustle and bustle of the city. The roads were narrow without feeling claustrophobic. The colors illuminated silhouettes of passersby. I was obviously digging the vibe of the place.
The route to my accommodation was pretty easy so I found it in no time. I checked in without issue and quickly rid myself of all the bags. I made my way downstairs to figure out what the hell I was going to do in Hanoi and hopefully meet some people.
Success.
It was happy hour at the in-house bar which meant free beer “until it ran out.” While in line, I met a young German vagabond named Insa. In this case, as with the rest of my run-ins with the Deutsche, I was happy to make a new friend. We got a few rounds of free brews and then ventured off to find a tasty dinner.
We were spoiled for options in our location which added a few minutes to the decision-making process. Finally, we landed on a random hole in the wall that had some locals scattered about; that made it seem more promising. After we ordered way too much food, we were satisfied with our choice. Unsurprisingly, I had high expectations for Vietnamese cuisine and we were off to a good start.
Feeling stuffed, Insa and I headed back to the hostel to hang out. People were gathered outside so we acquired some beverages and joined. The rest of the night consisted of several trips to the adjacent convenient store to replenish our beer supply. There was also a person set up across the street selling beer for 5,000 dong aka incredibly cheap. It was a popular spot because of the price. I was told it was unfiltered beer and would make you shit a lot the more you drank. That didn’t stop me from having a couple. One guy in the group was pounding them, so if anything I figured there would be somebody worse off than me.
I literally just remembered that we also went to a bar around the corner at some point during the night. It was a really weird experience because when we got there many of the dudes were shirtless. There were also several people with balloons, inhaling the helium. I’m not sure if you call that “doing balloons” or what but it was happening. Apparently if you do it quick enough you can have a 15-30 second hallucination. Wouldn’t know. I didn’t partake in those shenanigans. We ripped a few songs on the dance floor before retiring for the evening.
Another free bonus the hostel offered was breakfast. Neither of the options were all that much grub but it got you to lunch alright.
After finishing my food, Insa surfaced just in time to catch the free walking tour of the city. The amenities just kept adding up for this place. Our guide was Vietnamese but he was so soft spoken that I couldn’t hear him from 5ft away so I figured it was a lost cause trying to listen to anything he was going to say.
I kept to the back of the group as we wound our way through a temple and some markets to Train St. We also quickly breezed through Dog St. — quite literally named from the fried dogs for sale. And I don’t mean like a fried hot dog. I mean an actual dog. I kid you not. There were several crispy canine skewers to choose from. It was upsetting. I think they were all the same breed.; looked like Santa’s Little Helper from The Simpsons — but like after being on a spit for just the right amount of time to look sort of appetizing. No one in the group was interested in trying them.
It took me a few minutes to get over what I thought was a ridiculous, manufactured stereotype. Turns out…shit.
Other stops on the tour consisted of a lake that had an island temple, a theatre where Insa and I bought tickets for a traditional water puppet show, and a boutique coffee shop where people tried the well-known egg coffee. I didn’t know that was a thing and was just a passenger as others drank their frothy concoction.
Everybody parted ways after that. Me and a group of 3 went to enjoy some more Vietnamese fare. Pho for the win. Cheap, delicious and a good sized portion.
With the rest of the afternoon at my disposal, I took a brief chill in the hostel’s lounge before heading back out into the city to explore some more.
My arrival in Hanoi somehow lined up with a peace summit involving Trump and Kim Jong Un. Very odd. They were amping up security and preparing certain areas to be closed off so that was interesting I guess. I mean, not really but whatever. Other travelers were stoked for some reason. I got caught behind a street closure the following night with a small group of guys as we were wandering around. I snapped some shots of the uniformed officers manning the barricades. US and North Korean flags were passed around for the bystanders to wave as the presidential motorcades went by. It was a lot of unnecessary hoopla for a few cars driving passed. And it also put me behind for the water puppet show.
I had to hustle back to the hostel to change and meet Insa. We had to rush to a nearby restaurant to snag dinner and it ended up being the best meal in Hanoi. Bun cha is some kind of delicious street food that I’ll be having more of soon.
We made it just in time for the start of the show. Describing it is somewhat difficult. There were medium-sized puppets in water being animated by long staffs while a few people in traditional garb played appropriate music and sang/voiced the narrative. It was all in Vietnamese, so it was a bit tough to follow the story. But there were a lot of fish and farmers so it seemed to be about the cycle of the harvest and what role nature plays in that. Maybe? I think the concept of a water puppet show in general was more interesting than the actual display itself but I’m still glad I went.
That was the last notable thing I did in Hanoi. Insa and I had a casual night walking the streets back to the accommodation.
A group of ridiculously loud girls woke everybody in our room up at 5:30am the next morning with their packing and giggling about the nights conquests. Somehow I fell back asleep and woke up to an empty room. I repacked my things and caught a local shuttle to Halong Bay where I’ll be stationed for the next month+ teaching English at a Workaway.
I’m excited at the prospect of settling somewhere for an extended period of time, getting to know the place and developing a routine. Based on my correspondence, my host and living situation are supposed to be pretty epic as well.
Vietnam is turning out to be a pretty righteous place. But I suppose that’s not much of a surprise.
I arrived in Lembar port at 6pm and the sun was beginning to set. Lombok seemed like a beautiful place. Somehow it had a more organized vibe than Bali but was still quite similar.
I arranged for a motorbike ride from the harbor to my accommodation in Mataram city. I wasn’t stoked to be on the back of a motorbike with my massive pack for almost an hour but it was the quickest and cheapest way.
I underestimated how strong your lower back muscles need to be to ride comfortably while supporting that much weight. It was a struggle. I kept trying to focus on the new scenery.
There were traditional streets with lanes, a more traditional traffic pattern, and many mosques lining the roads. Lombok was majority Muslim, in line with the rest of Indonesia. A few minutes into the ride, I heard parts of the evening prayer amplified through speakers as we passed by.
The trip to the hostel took longer than an hour because the guy didn’t know where he was going even though I was showing him directions. At long last, we pulled through an intersection with a McDonald’s on one side and a Pizza Hut on the other and parked at our destination.
Just by walking up to the reception desk, I astounded the staff there. The check-in counter was in the corner of an empty cafe so the employees weren’t doing anything. I mentioned that I had a reservation and threw the two guys for a loop. They had to call someone to ask how to process everything. This was a very curious first impression.
After being ushered back to my room, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was the only guest at the hostel. This was very quickly confirmed when they had to go get keys to unlock the door to the bathroom. So strange. Sure, it was low season, but based on the reviews for the place, I expected at least a few other travelers. The lack of patrons proved unfortunate because I was intending to meet people and create a group to do day trips. That was a little tough without other people.
While walking around Mataram, I got the feeling that I was the only tourist in the entire city. It seemed like every pair of eyes followed me wherever I went. I never came across another white person the whole time I was there.
One of the sights nearby was the Islamic Center NTB. It was a large mosque with beautiful colors and intricate symmetry in its design. There were certain parts in disrepair from the earthquake that occurred in 2018. I went to have a look around and admire the architecture. Clue #10 that I didn’t belong: I was stopped by 3 different groups who asked to take photos with me. As in, people wanted me — this random white dude — to be in a photo with them. I obliged. Now I’m the butt of a joke on a few teenagers IG accounts. Why not?
I had to wait out a short rain storm under the mosque’s sheltered paths before heading over to the fancy new shopping center that everybody was excited about. Once again, I was a walking mythological creature based on peoples’ reactions of me perusing the corridors of this mall.
When I returned back to my hostel, there was a live band playing to no one. It was a Friday night, so customary to have entertainment I guess. I had to walk through the empty cafe passed the band to get to my room. Awkward. I’ve been there, guys. Trust me. They played for another hour or two before calling it a night. The ghosts must’ve been happy.
The place gave me a peculiar feeling. Not because of the ghosts — that was a joke. I didn’t necessarily feel unwelcome, but I definitely felt like I was there at the wrong time. I decided not to linger and continue on with my travels the next day.
I took another hour long ride up to Bangsal harbor in the north part of the island. Since I was flying by the seat of my pants a little bit, I was again unprepared for bargaining and paid a bit too much for a boat over to Gili Air and an open ticket that would take me back to mainland Bali. I didn’t feel good about the situation immediately after handing over my money. This would play a significant role later on.
Similar to the Nusa islands I’d visited previously, the 3 Gili islands off the northwest coast of Lombok are a popular destination for most travelers that visit the area. Gili Air has a reputation for being a good spot to relax and unwind, Gili Trawagan is known for its party scene and Gili Meno is the quietest of the group (even though it’s geographically in the middle).
The islands are all small with little infrastructure, disregarding the damage the earthquake has also done to them. The only methods of transportation are bicycle and horse-drawn buggy. As an aside, I felt really bad for the horses because when they were inactive they would just stare at the ground and not move. I always thought they needed more water.
On Gili Air, I hopped off my boat and took a 10 minute walk to my next hostel. I was crossing my fingers there were more people there, even though I knew it would be a chill vibe.
Captain Coconuts was tucked away on a cozy street, slightly inland on the western part of the island. I was greeted by a lot of bamboo and thatched roofing. The staff was very friendly at check in and as I was taken back to my room, I didn’t see another person. There was no one in my dorm room yet again. It would be a solitary few days, I thought.
The bright side was the uniqueness of the accommodation. The room was under a roof but in the open air and the beds were suspended from the ceiling with mosquito nets for protection at night. The pool was in the middle of the property, surrounded by large, custom wooden lounge chairs and some pillows strewn about.
During my days, I did a decent amount of exploring the island. The path next to the beach was lined with bars that all had comfy seating nestled up to the water, perfect for eating dinner and watching the sunset. From what I could tell, that and swimming were the two main activities to occupy one’s time.
I caught two lovely sunsets while there and relaxed from my…already unstressful lifestyle as a vagabond.
Two days of being low key felt sufficient. It was time to move onto Gili T. I wasn’t in search of a party, but something a little more active would be alright.
I could feel the liveliness immediately when I arrived. It was mainly the familiar feeling of being badgered by vendors and kiosk agents trying to sell bracelets and excursions. Moving past the hectic zone, there were more boutiques, restaurants and accommodations on the main drag. Once I was farther from that street, I noticed more rundown sites and less action overall. Not a surprise.
I used the Bali Backpackers Facebook group to find the hostel I reserved. People said it was a social place that could throw down if needed. Seemed like a good hedge. I checked in and was introduced to the promoter, Missy, a chick around my age from California. Later, I found out how sweet her arrangement was. She’s “working” there for two months in exchange for room and board. Her responsibilities are really to just hang out with guests, organize snorkel or similar day trips and make sure everyone is having a good time. Aka she gets to make new friends and drink “on the job.” Epic.
She folded me into the hip posse of travelers that had been staying there for a bit — a Canadian, 4 Norwegians, and 2 Germans. We did a lot of chatting in the early afternoon before organizing a trek over to a viewpoint to see the sunset. The trip was a bust because the viewpoint was just a small clearing mostly obscured by trees. It was burger night back at the hostel though, so we used it as an excuse to eat dinner.
Later in the evening, we went to watch a snorkel test. Apparently, when someone passes a dive certification (might specifically be for dive master) it’s tradition to chug a liter of alcohol through a snorkel. So that happened. Then there was a crazy storm with heavy rain and terrifying lightning. We got stuck in an expensive bar waiting for it to subside. From there, we did a little bit of relatively tame bar hopping before calling it a night.
In the morning, most of the group went on a snorkeling trip around the Gili islands. Two marquee stops I was excited about were the underwater statue sculpture and a site called turtle haven.
They did not disappoint. Most people say that the statue area is always teeming with people so it’s impossible to really enjoy it. We were lucky because there was practically nobody there. Maybe the previous nights rain kept people away or something. Whatever the reason, I was happy to scope it out in detail without getting whacked in the face by a million other flippers.
Turtle haven was sort of a mixed bag. There were a good amount of turtles there, but they were all sleeping on the bottom, which was probably 30ft down. Thankfully, there was one active turtle in a shallower area. It went up for air really close to me so I was able to get a decent look at it.
The last stop was called fish garden. Living up to its name, there was a continuous swarm of cool looking fish. At one point they were all up on me because that’s where the food was. Kind of sweet.
We had group lunch on Gili Air and then returned to the hostel. A rather solid few hours in the water.
My plan was to head back to Bali the following day, so I needed to sort out my boat reservation. I called the number that was on my receipt to confirm my ticket and got one of those recordings that the number was out of service. Not ideal. I went looking for the company’s office with Missy and after a rather long search found they were closed. Something I was going to have to sort out the day of, clearly. Ominous signs though.
With the rest of the afternoon at my disposal, I decided to do something I’d never done before. A trip within the trip. A sort of under the radar yet well-known thing to do on Gili T is to have a magic mushroom shake. It sounded interesting and I’m all about new experiences on this journey, so I decided to go for it.
It was more of a smoothie than a shake, really. Greenish. Looked like a drink that a health nut would frequently have. It tasted ok actually. Not quite on par with that Naked Green Machine juice or whatever, but not too far away. Imbibed; delighted.
Then it was a waiting game.
I sat in the main area of the hostel for a long time and had so many different conversations. It was mainly just a regular high, nothing too psychedelic. Hearing Norwegian spoken at a rapid pace was mind blowing. Outside of that, there were a few giggle fits which is par for the course. I wish I was better at documenting some of the quotes at the time to see if they were even remotely humorous now. My guess is not.
Missy and I couldn’t tell if we were hungry but we went with the group to dinner anyway. It was a good choice to change venues and keep the fun chat going.
By the time that was done and we were back at the hostel, I was more or less back to normal. We finished off the night with a few friendly rounds of cards and that was that.
The next morning I said my goodbyes and went to the boat office again with a hopeful attitude. The phone number still wasn’t working, but there wasn’t much I could do. The manager said a reservation wasn’t made for me, so nothing was official. The boat I was looking to take only left once a day too. It headed back to Bangsal harbor before going to Bali, so he said I could try to find the guy I bought the ticket from and sort it out quickly. I only had 10 minutes before it embarked though.
When we got to Bangsal, the dude was actually walking up to the boat so finding him was no issue. He complained about me not calling him even after I explained several times that the number he gave me didn’t work. He told me to wait somewhere and he would go get the money to make the arrangements. He just got out of sight before I realized that was stupid and should follow him. I didn’t find him, but he resurfaced a few minutes later and walked me back toward the dock. Again, he was complaining and stalling and making excuses. He said he would let me stay for free and take the boat tomorrow even though I had to leave on the one that day (I already made hostel reservations and it was too late to cancel). During the argument, I saw the boat push away from the wharf. Obviously. Once again, the dude told me he would give me a refund and told me to wait at a specific spot. This time he gave me his cell phone as collateral. It was a shitty ass Nokia brick. Nobody really needs that shit back.
As I was standing there, a few different guys came up asking me where I was trying to go and tried to empathize. They said that guy was a bad man and all this stuff. Of course they were quick to offer me a discounted ticket through their company because they liked me. “I’ll even take an extra 50,000 off if you give me the phone so I can sell it.” Shit like that. It was a clever ruse that I think everybody was in on. I was deep enough in that I would be buying another boat ticket either way. I was still trying to make my destination work while juggling under duress. My only solution was to get a boat to a completely different harbor and then pay for a car up to Amed. Eventually, I shelled out for a ticket for the next boat. At least I’d be back in Bali and away from this mess.
On the boat ride over, I was researching routes and costs for the ride to Amed. Paying for a car by myself was expensive. It wasn’t an option I was interested in. Taking a shuttle to another destination was cheaper, but I would still have to forfeit what I paid for my hostel reservation. Yada yada.
I bailed on Amed to return to Seminyak and be in a more developed area that I was familiar with. Plus, it’s more convenient to the airport when I fly out. It’s not a concession I’m thrilled about, but it made more financial sense to go this way.
Somewhat of a sour note to end on. I fell for an elaborate scam. It was layered and well-played. And it was bound to happen to me in Asia at some point. Hopefully I’ve gotten it out of the way early. At a minimum, it was a proper learning experience. Now I know what signs to look for, exactly what questions to ask, and what information to insist on before putting money down.
A harbor in Bali is really a beach with a few tents and some small boats moored to the shore. That’s what I found out when I showed up to catch a lift to Nusa Lembongan.
As a brief geography lesson, there are 3 islands to the east of mainland Bali: Lembongan (closest), Ceningan (smallest), and Penida (largest).
After a while of waiting, the cruise over to the island was just 30 minutes. Pulling into Jungut Batu was beautiful. It was a clear day, there was blue, blue water and a cliff with embedded houses overlooking the bay. I boarded a shuttle that took me to my accommodation on the other side of the island. Well, it was really more of a small truck with two benches in the bed, but it did the trick.
Garden Cottage #1
The harbor area was much busier with people, shops, and restaurants than where I was staying. The southwest corner of the island was much more desolate and felt spread out. I think there were only 6 other people staying at my place, if that, and I saw them very fleetingly. It felt like I had the whole cottage, pool and restaurant to myself.
Unsurprising news flash: Bali is hot. I went for a walk to find lunch and see some sights. I hit the nearby hotspots of Dream Beach, Devil’s Tear, Mushroom Beach and then Sunset Point to end the evening. On the way to the last stop i met a retired American couple who were long term traveling. They told me about their plans for the upcoming months and clued me into something called The Great Loop which is a sailing journey through the eastern seaboard waters of the US and Canada. They did it over the course of 2017 and had awesome things to say about it. Sounds like a worthwhile future endeavor.
Sunset Point
Once the sun dipped beyond the horizon, we parted ways and I returned to my hostel.
Subsequent unsurprising news flash: I’ve sweat through every article of clothing multiple times at this point. Laundry is in dire need.
The next morning I was up at 6:30am to get ready for a snorkeling trip. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hitched a scooter ride to the harbor. This dude comfortably did 40+km/hr while weaving around people with me on the back holding on for dear life. Nice.
There was a group of about 20 people of varying ages and nationalities on board the boat for the snorkel trip. The skipper’s English was limited and he had a no-nonsense attitude but it worked out.
Our first location was Manta Bay off the south coast of Nusa Penida. It’s a popular spot for…you guessed it, manta rays. There were several snorkelers already in the water and the captains of the boats were yelling to each other where the rays were so everybody was encouraged to get in quickly.
I hopped in and immediately saw one about 30ft below. Several people were freediving down to get a closer look. I tried that as well but could only go so deep. I’m not sure if we saw two in total or just the same one in different spots but it was sweet.
The people on my boat re-boarded after just a few minutes in the water so we moved onto our next spot which pretty fast. At Crystal Bay there was some deece soft coral in with relatively vibrant fish activity. It was also quite shallow in areas so I was able to dip down and get a cool perspective right above the reef.
I was the last one back in the boat again as we shipped off to our last destination. This one wasn’t in the shelter of a bay so the current was quite strong. It was another shallow spot though with harder, less colorful coral. There were still some alright fish and shapes but it was a slightly anticlimactic way to end the day.
By the time we were back to land and I grabbed a ride to the hostel, it was only 1pm. With so much of the day still left, I decided to hire a scooter for myself and see areas of the island I hadn’t yet.
My Chariot
I honestly can’t recall if I’ve ever taken a scooter or similar vehicle for a spin. If I have, it’s been ages so it was basically a whole new experience. The controls are simple enough, but balance and road etiquette were the two things I had to get up to speed on. Luckily, there are basically no rules required to drive in Bali so that part was easy. I mean you drive on the left and you honk when you’re overtaking someone or going around a blind corner, but that’s about it.
It took a little bit of getting used to but no major mishaps thankfully. Don’t worry, Mom, I wore a helmet just in case. Pretty sure I stood out like the n00b I was, but since I’m accident prone, I figured it was the safer call.
I drove around the island twice, stopping at Panorama Point, the mangrove forest and Yellow Bridge, which connects Lembongan to Ceningan. Cruising along the southwestern coast offered some pretty killer views of the other two islands while the tide was retracting.
For dinner, I scooted on back to Jungut Batu to meet up with some people from the backpacking Facebook group. We were discussing pooling together to do a day trip around Nusa Penida in the following days so thought it was a good opportunity to meet beforehand. Sarah and Alina, two young, pretty and chipper ladies from Germany, were at a nice cafe next to the beach. We ate and connected quickly over random conversation as dusk transitioned into a proper night sky.
We still had details to sort out, but from a personality standpoint it was a solid match. They went back to their guesthouse and I found a random sports bar to watch the Tottenham game. There were actually a few other fans there and it ended in a solid victory so that was a positive note.
The last act of the day was a late night scooter ride back to my hostel. It wasn’t too eventful which was good. The only thing I had to watch out for were bugs and stray dogs trying to bite my ankles on the way by.
Success. Not a scratch to myself or the motorbike. Mission accomplished. I could get used to this.
In the morning, I got a very generous free ride down to Yellow Bridge where I caught the public boat over to Nusa Penida.
Yellow Bridge #3
It only took around 15 minutes and I reached my bungalow after a brief taxi ride.
I thought I booked a place with a decent amount of stuff going on around it. I walked around the area to find that wasn’t really the case. There were maybe a handful of restaurants but that was about it.
Thankfully, my place had its own kitchen and offered live music every night. It also seemed like I had a solid room of people. The first person I met was an attractive and kind Dutch gal named Joyce. We shared a few travel stories and upcoming plans with each other. She was getting over Typhoid Fever. Intense! Kind of coincidental because I totally forgot about taking those pills until two weeks prior. Anyhow, i invited her along on the Penida day tour and made the final arrangements in booking a driver and the remaining details.
Penida Colada Sunset
As happy hour approached, I decided to check out a bar I’d seen recommendations for — Penida Colada. How clever. It was a prime spot on the water and even though it was north facing, we still got a gorgeous hint of colors from the sunset. I was definitely grinning while I finished my 2 for 1 cocktails.
I returned to the hostel and joined a few of my other roommates for dinner and drinks while the band began to play. The basic outfit of singer/guitarist, bassist and box drummer crushed it. The guys voice was smooth as hell. It’s always funny to listen to a non-English speaker sing in a perfect American accent.
My alcohol hiatus obviously came to an end. I may have had one too many Bintangs over the course of the night but it didn’t turn into anything outlandish.
That being said, I woke up early nursing a mild hang. I had to meet our driver and go to the harbor to pick up Joyce, Sarah, Alina and new addition, Maaike, before we got the day underway.
If you’re wondering why we needed a driver, the reason is the condition of the roads. The main part of the island has paved roads, with lane markings even — something I barely even saw on the mainland — outside of that though, as in on the way to the attractions we were visiting, they became a shit show. Steep and rough terrain with some of the most uneven grade and biggest potholes I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly not sure how even the most experience motorbike driver was able to navigate those “roads” but I’m glad I didn’t try it myself. There were many, many stories of daily tourist accidents.
Apart from the lovely scenery of the European ladies I was with, there was also some nature to look at.
We wound our way to Angel’s Billabong, Broken Beach, the Kelingking Cliff viewpoint and Crystal Bay Beach with a stop for lunch thrown in there.
The vastness of these sites doesn’t really come through in photos. Kelingking Cliff (second pic above) was particularly dramatic. I’m not sure exactly how high the lookout was, but the people on the beach below were just specks.
Penida Tour Group
Again, it was a hot ass day. Our last stop gave us an opportunity to cool off with a much needed dip in the water. Totally refreshing.
It ended up being a super chill group and a pleasant day of touring around. Joyce and I dropped the girls off back at the harbor and began a mission of finding a fairly priced boat to take us to Lombok since we were both continuing our travels there soon. Bargaining proved to be difficult. We got stonewalled by two guys that claimed it was a fixed price so we shelved that for the time being.
That wasn’t the only thing to rain on our parade. An actual storm moved in. We waited it out under an awning since the scooter she rented was about to turn up anyway.
In chatting, she told me she was going on a dive the following day and that I should join. Diving was something I strongly considered doing in Asia, partially because it’s supposed to be good but also really cheap comparatively. Her shop was on the way back to our hostel so we stopped in for me to get some more info.
The owner of the shop agreed to accommodate me on such short notice and I was given a little bit of homework to study before returning early the next morning to knock out the introductory skills.
I think Joyce was more excited than I was about it. That’s not to say I wasn’t, but for some reason I just had no expectations at all about the experience. She was already open water certified so she just had a better idea of what was in store for us.
That night we got dinner together and bonded over a talk about personal development and our motivations to travel. This might’ve been the best conversation I’ve had across my entire trip. It felt special to share such a similar perspective with someone who I otherwise wouldn’t have ever met.
Me & Joyce Pre-Dive
In the morning she was nice enough to drop me at the dive center. Jason was the owner and my instructor/guide for the day. In a pool, he walked me through the 4 procedures I had to pass to be able to do the real thing. It only took a few minutes because apparently I knocked it out. I’ve heard it takes a while to get used to breathing through the regulator underwater. At this point with all the snorkeling I’ve done, I feel well-adapted to keeping my head below the surface for hours.
Since that was such a breeze, I basically hung out for an hour to wait for everybody else to arrive. Once it was time, we grabbed all of the necessary equipment and were transported to the boat.
The first dive site was Manta Bay. Familiar territory. This was an awesome opportunity to see manta rays up close and personal.
Me, Jason and Joyce were all paired together, with Jason keeping a close eye on me. The first descent was a slow process. I had a lot of trouble with my ears equalizing. That was the thing I was most focused on for the first dive but didn’t encounter any other issues. It wasn’t necessarily a very scenic site and we were actually unlucky to not see any mantas while we were below the surface.
Eventually, my air supply got to 50 bar and that meant it was time to head back up. Once we got above the water and could talk, Jason said it had been an hour and that was one of the longest dives he’s done in a long time. He was very complimentary of my air consumption and body position. Said that I was super relaxed and communicated well with the hand signals and everything. Excellent to have a knack for such a unique activity.
The only bummer was no mantas. We climbed back into the boat and stripped our tanks off. Jason was actually frustrated by the lack of mantas as well so he said we would stick around for a little bit. There were some other boats there with people snorkeling and that gave us a bead on one. Joyce and I jumped in with just snorkeling gear to go see. Boom. There was a massive one effortlessly gliding through the water. It was deep down again but must’ve been at least as big as my wingspan. We followed it for a little bit and then got back on the vessel.
We cruised over to Crystal Bay, another familiar spot and moored up. Everybody ate a little lunch before getting ready to head in for the second dive. I had a lot of water in my ears so was curious how equalizing would be this time around.
The 3 of us got in and used the anchor line to help us descend. It was an easier time getting down to depth.
I had my GoPro with me, but I didn’t have an underwater case. It’s only operable up to 10m aka 30ft before the water pressure makes the buttons unpressable. I started recording a video before we reached that level but once we got there, it was out of my control. I thought it shut off so I stopped caring about it for a bit. We saw a moray eel in some coral getting its teeth cleaned by a smaller fish. I didn’t even try to capture it. Then we saw a Hawksbill turtle grubbing on something in the coral. I saw a red light flashing on the camera so had Jason take it and really get in there. The GoPro turned itself on photo time lapse mode, which I found out later, but at least it was capturing something. For the rest of the dive I was using it as if it was recording video. I’m happy it continued getting images because some of them are epic (even if I had to sort through 2000+ pics).
This dive was much more memorable. There was substantially better coral and marine life. Plus I had less trouble with the equalization so was able to really have a good look around. It was almost another hour long dive before we were back top side.
I felt good about what we saw while we were still on the boat but I’m even more stoked now looking at the photos. Joyce and I both considered extending our stays on Penida just to dive again in those areas. I’m really interested in doing an open water certification but even though it’s cheaper here, it’s probably too cost prohibitive to my overall trip fund.
Back on land, we had most of the afternoon to decompress and relax. Joyce and I ended up having another awesome talk over dinner, maybe even better than the previous night. Then, we went back to the hostel to pack our things to leave the next morning.
We didn’t have a ton of information, but we were planning to catch a slow ferry to Padang Bai (a port on Bali) and from there another ferry to Lombok. It was the cheapest option but also between 7-9 hours of travel.
Whatever it takes to keep some coin in the travel coffers.
It’s safe to say i spoiled myself very early on. Spoiled, not soiled. I clarified that in the last post.
The hostel we were staying at in Ubud wasn’t ticking the boxes as nicely as Kosone. It was an ok place and the staff was friendly but it was nowhere near as fresh or swank.
After checking in, myself, Julian and Nanne got lunch at the attached restaurant and brainstormed our plan.
There were many many things to see and do around Ubud. To start with, there was a sacred monkey forest within walking distance so that was first on the list. I’d also read a random article about a sound healing at some pyramids. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but there happened to be one later that night. Nanne apparently had some hippie tendencies so she was excited. We booked it and then hoofed it.
Monkeys on monkeys on monkeys. As we approached the entrance to the forest, there was one monkey breaking the confines of the jungle. He was out on the street scoping out some goods at the shops. Him and a stray dog started to get fiesty with one another which was free entertainment.
Inside the forest, they were everywhere. They were cute, they were crafty, and they were on the prowl for snacks. I share one of those traits. I, too, like snacks. Anyway, I heard of a guy getting his glasses stolen by a monkey on his first day in Bali. Hilarious. I could see it (no pun). On multiple occasions, I witnessed a little monk climb up someone’s back and start to open their bag. The bastards knew how to operate zippers. I went in prepared with a luggage lock. Suckers. There was a moment where I felt a tug on my backpack, but I think it saw the deterrent and scurried away. You deviant.
It was wild to see them running around and swinging amongst the branches. I mean the place was filthy with em. They came in many sizes, colors and orientations. There were a few families with adorable babies that wrestled on the ground. There were some pals helping each other with their hygiene. And there were also some wiser oldies mean-mugging people as they passed.
We didn’t have all that much time to admire the wee primates because we had to snag a lift over to the Pyramids of Chi for the main event of the evening.
The Pyramids of Chi
After haggling with a local taxi driver over the price of a ride, we pulled up to the site. Nobody seemed to know about the establishment but when we got there it was quite nice. The owners certainly had money. I was trying to remain spiritually open in anticipation of the ceremony, yet in the back of my mind I was very curious if the whole thing was a clever money grab — taking advantage of all the westerners visiting the zen center of Bali.
There was a group of 25-30 people all together. The order of events was a sacred cacao ceremony followed by the sound healing. It was supposed to be 3 hours of meditation, relaxation and body attunement. I’ve done yoga before, but nothing to this degree.
We were greeted by one of our two leaders. He looked like an actor I’m having trouble placing at the moment. A salt and pepper guy that spoke into the microphone so lowly that we could’ve heard him better without it.
Once the indiscernible briefing was over, we were ushered over to the Pyramid of the Sun. Everyone got a sage cleansing before entering and then took a seat on pillows that formed a circle. We did a lot of breathing, chanting, and saluting directions. We invited spirits in, gave thanks, and drank the sacred cacao — a mixture of chocolate, ginger, cayenne and lemon or something. I know what you’re thinking…no, it was not hallucinogenic. Unfortunately. Shortly after drinking it, we did do an ecstatic dance that had people crying, yipping and flailing to and fro. So maybe it had some sort of fun properties but I don’t think so.
Like I said before, I was doing my best to remain open minded. I did my best to stay in the moment and not worry about the people around me. But, I couldn’t ignore my eyes. I guess these people were just more spiritual than me. Or, at the very minimum, more affected by the ceremony. Maybe practice makes perfect — like sports or whatever. I did bust loose during the dance and let the music control me. I think the majority of the moves were already in my repertoire, but it happened.
After the movement exercise, we were instructed to have unrelenting eye contact with the first person we connected to. It happened to be me and Julian “getting vulnerable” with one another. We then sat knee to knee and touched each others’ hearts for the duration of an entire song. That was another thing that kind of took me out of it. Throughout the entire ceremony, they played some very poignant, well-produced songs expressing the exact sentiment we were focusing on. I kept wondering if they commissioned the songs themselves. There was one really nice one, “I Am the Light.” I’ll search iTunes when I have a moment.
Soon, the doors opened and the group transitioned into the Pyramid of the Moon for the sound healing. We all laid on separate little mattresses in the dim chamber, heads facing the middle. The instructors began to play gongs, chimes, and other instruments of that nature. The vibrations were meant to increase theta waves within the brain, which induces relaxation. This was by far my favorite part of the night. The sensation of the rumbling was definitely calming.
Calming enough that I found myself waking up at the end of the ceremony. It wasn’t just a trance, I was straight passed out. No surprise. This is a common occurrence for me when I get horizontal, especially if it’s dark. I was slightly bummed that I wasn’t present to hear all of the gong sounds and whatnot but it was a solid nap.
Overall, I was happy to take part in something like this. It’s an activity I would usually avoid, but getting out of the comfort zone to experience new things is the point of this whole trip. So “Wadoh” aka “Thanks.”
Following our spiritual field trip to the Pyramids of Chi was a jam-packed day of touring Ubud. We secured a driver for the three of us and hit the road by 9am.
We pulled into the parking lot of our first stop after just a few minutes of driving. It seemed like nothing. A plain parking lot in front of some hedges. It appeared that we would be growing into the day.
We were escorted through a gap in the hedges and down a pathway that opened itself up into a stunning scene of lush rice terrances that were exquisitely manicured.
What an exotic place. Not only was it a pristine piece of nature you could wander through, it was also a mini amusement park. There was a zipline and several different swings. The Bali swing is an iconic tourist activity, so Julian and I opted for the “Super Extreme” version (the highest you could do). This wasn’t the site of the original swing, but I’d argue it has some of, if not the best views. We saw several other swings throughout the day that paled in comparison.
That being said, it wasn’t all that exhilarating a ride. I mean, I’m not really a fan of heights and I wasn’t getting much of a thrill from it. We got 15 swings and the guys did their best to propel the swing as high as they could. The upside was the scenery for sure.
Julian and I tackled the swing and then continued to explore the grounds. Nanne kept watching the swing because she was on the fence about doing it.
Placed at various intervals were all of these wooden nests and shapes that you could climb in to take pictures. They were pretty nifty. I’m sure Instagram is overrun with these type of images. Don’t get me wrong, we did knock out a quick photoshoot, but I’ve met a few travelers that would still be there snapping pics.
The next stop on our trip was the Tellalang Rice Terraces. These might be the most well known terraces in Bali. I’m not really sure but that sounds good. They were only a short way down the road from where we were. Although not as lush as our previous setting, it was still quite awesome to see how sprawling they were. It was a feat to climb up and down all of the steps to have a look around. If I was a rice farmer I would be fit as hell.
Once we finished exploring and got back to the top, we were onto Tirta Empul, which is a holy water temple. This was more of the cultural experience I expected to get at every temple. Sarongs were a requirement to cover up certain parts of the body. At this temple specifically, you could enter the petirtaan (bathing structure) to perform a purification ritual by showering in the holy water. There was a certain procedure for this that we did our best to follow. We had to get a separate sarong for the water, store our items, and supply a sacrifice before making a prayer, cleansing and then rinsing in the holy spring.
It’s an interesting experience to dissect. Being afforded the opportunity to participate in the ritual at a real temple is very generous. Though it seemed like a lot of tourists were blasting through the process and skipping over some of the religious traditions. I think it’s a general lack of respect combined with the way the Balinese culture is on sale. There’s no real information on how to do it or what is customary. You pay a hefty entrance fee, which is fair enough, but then you have extra fees for the water sarong and the locker. Then you have local guides offering their services of explanation at an additional cost. It’s difficult not to feel nickel and dimed. I think that’s where you get a large contingency of people rushing into the water just to say they were bathed in holy water without recognizing the proper procedure of the ritual. We paused to observe the order of operations and the fountains that were reserved for funerals and cremations. I’m still not sure if we did it 100% correctly, but we can at least say we did our best. I feel like the practice would be respected so much more if they made the information more readily available. It would benefit everyone.
On the way out of the temple, we were shepherded through all of the vendors. This was one of the most stressful situations. In addition to the usual verbal requests to look at a shop, there were certain ladies that pulled us forcefully into their stall. “One dolla, one dolla!” Julian and I could have escaped relatively unscathed but Nanne kept slowing down and engaging the vendors. I guess she was vaguely in the market for some souvenirs. Problematic. She repeatedly said she was frustrated by all of the haggling but she kept going into shops and looking around. This was a common theme throughout the day that Julian and I laughed about.
By the time we made it back to our driver, we had worked up an appetite so we stopped for lunch around the corner. That was another thing that was kind of crazy. We were paying this guy a pretty decent amount of money and all he had to do was drive us 5 minutes to the next destination and then wait an hour for us to come back out. Pretty cush job if you can get it.
Julian and I had a beer at lunch. I mention this only to say that was the last beer I’ve had. It’s been a week, you guys. What’s going on?
From there, we went to the site of another temple, Goa Gajah. Before we could get out of the car, we were pounced on by some other vendors. We did decide to invest in sarongs since they were necessary at most temples. Still, the aggressive tactic of the sellers was a tad frustrating. What’s funny is that when we reached the entrance of Goa Gajah, we were deterred by the entrance fee so we didn’t even go in. Wore the sarong like a boss anyway.
The final stop of the day was a waterfall called Tegenungan. It was a popular destination for everybody else in the Ubud area as well. Kind of trappy. Again, we had to fork over some cash to look at it. A temple I can understand but an admission fee for nature seemed a little unnecessary. It was a tolerable amount, so Julian and I coughed it up while Nanne went on a mission to find food (she was a picky eater and didn’t have anything at lunch).
What to say about the waterfall…it was deece? It takes a really powerful, tall or shapely waterfall to stand out to me these days. This one was an okay height and you could swim in the pool, but beyond that it was nothing to write home about (whatever that says about these words).
We walked around for a little bit before returning to the car. On the way back to the hostel Nanne decided she was going back to Canggu so she sorted out a ride with our driver.
It was a pretty eventful day. We climbed a lot of steps, did some bargaining, completed a holy ritual, baked in the sun and saw a lot without really traveling all that far. It was also a pretty expensive day. The common refrain is that South East Asia is super cheap. That’s not untrue. Individual things don’t cost a lot. But you pay for everything and it adds up quickly. On the whole, it’s still better than a New Zealand or Australia, but I was expecting even cheaper based on what people said. Maybe it was because I’m so frugal and I’d already lowered my internal budget, or maybe it was because the 3 extra zeroes on the end of every price inflated the amount in my brain. We’ll see what my average daily spend is at the end of my time and compare.
Regardless, you have to expect to pay some money when you’re on an adventure. I expanded my horizons and that is a priceless endeavor. There we go. A platitude that only makes me vomit in my throat a little bit. It is a better mindset though.
It was an unremarkably overcast day when I arrived in Canggu.
It was only a few miles from Seminyak, but it had a much more relaxed vibe. The streets weren’t overcrowded with people and vendors. There was no cacophony of horns and “In here, boss!” demands.
The car pulled down a narrow alley and came to a stop at the end. There was a building there, but the location and surroundings seemed to conflict with what I thought I booked. I got out and hauled my bags to reception. As I was being escorted up to my room, I realized I’d made it to paradise.
This place was beautiful. It had only been open for 2 months, so it was relatively unspoiled. The facilities were all immaculate and the pool set up was perfect.
I was initially planning to go on a long walk to watch the sunset at a seaside temple. The gray sky and the swim up bar quickly changed my mind. It was an easy choice, especially since Happy Hour was 2 for 1 cocktails. Cheers.
I started chatting with two Aussie chicks who were on holiday. We crushed 12 cocktails between us. My bill was like $20.
Paradise.
After HH I took a stroll down to the beach and admired all of the bar set ups. There were some simple ones with rows of cushy seats and others with more elaborate, infinity pool spaces.
I worked my way back toward the hostel and went for a tasty dinner at an empty restaurant with rice field views before calling it a night.
The next day I was determined to get a new hat and tank top to help alleviate the heat and my laziness for morning preparation. Before setting out on this venture, I got a free delicious breakfast at the hip restaurant attached to the hostel. The smoothie bowl I ordered hugged my eyes and palate in its appearance and yumminess. It was also healthy, so it was a win/win/win.
Feeling good about life as a whole, I headed over to a cool Bazaar to get my shop on.
Bazaar
In hindsight, I should’ve waited a few more days until I had a stronger grasp on the currency. The thousands thing. Plus, I’m a people pleaser so negotiating really isn’t my strong suit.
I walked out of there with two hats, two tanks, and a dirty feeling. I talked the guy down by almost a million, but he started at almost 2 million. I’d like to say I’ll be better moving forward, but only time will tell. It’s difficult to be a hard ass to a stranger. Then again, if their goal is to take advantage of you…Something to think about.
Anyway, I returned to Kosone and decided to conduct the rest of my affairs by the pool. It was a beautiful day and it was worth enjoying.
I talked with a gorgeous woman, originally from Madagascar, who was living in Canggu and running a cafe. She was also drinking coconut water out of a coconut. Appropriate.
It was impossible to drag myself away from this place. I decided to extend my stay for another night because it was too good. How could you not?
For the latter part of the afternoon, I lounged with my roommates, Julian (20yr old, Holland) and Scott (30yr old, Australia). Happy Hour came around, so, you know, that happened again. I was thinking this was the ideal Groundhog Day cycle.
As HH finished at the pool, myself, Scott and a Canadian chick hopped on a scooter — yes, 3 grown adults on a scooter — and made it to a beachside bar before their deal time was over. Scott said that the party scene in the area was pretty heavy. Our night was careening that direction as we migrated to another bar with a view and quickly caught the sunset.
Sunset at The Lawn
Thankfully, a stop for dinner slowed the momentum and we decided to take a few beers back to the hostel. It was a blitz of an evening, but a chill night to balance that craziness. Very easy to see how I could get fat and hammered for the duration of my time in Bali.
The events of the following day helped to curb that possibility.
I started with another great breakfast (still included in the price of my room). I was determined to make the walk to the seaside temple since I hadn’t accomplished that yet.
It was a 2.5 hour trek, which meant some decent exercise. Two deterring factors were the heat and the lack of sidewalks. But, my mind was made up.
I embarked with 1.5 liters of water and a few podcasts lined up. I’m pretty sure I was covered in sweat within the first 3 minutes. I persevered while perspiring.
Thirty minutes in and I was like damn. It. Is. HOT.
There wasn’t much shade along the road unfortunately. The breathability of a tank top could only do so much. I stopped to reapply my sunscreen and looked at my map. Still an hour to go.
The directions took me down an interesting path in the middle of some lush, green fields. There was a well-paved road that seemed ne’er traversed. It was a strange yet beautiful scene.
By the time I got to Tanah Lot, it felt like I’d been walking for days. I can only imagine how people in the actual desert feel.
Upon entering the temple, pretty much all I saw was tourists. The place was overrun. To top it off, it was high tide so I could only see the main attraction from afar. It looked nice, but dodging people at every turn was a bit of a chore.
Tanah Lot #3
I explored some of the more empty areas and stumbled on a Luwak Coffee cafe with civet and all. I guess that’s one of the most expensive types of coffee in the world since the beans are digested by the cat/otter mix of an animal. The poor guy was as hot as I was, sitting there panting and pacing.
Afternoon was turning into evening and I was beginning to feel the effects of the heat. I also inadvertently skipped lunch which was unwise. I b-lined it for a convenient store on the way back toward the hostel. In an effort to keep sun stroke at bay, I got some more water and a snack in the AC. I also decided to get a ride back so I didn’t randomly fall out on the street.
A much needed plunge in the pool welcomed me back to Kosone.
Julian and I made plans to travel together to Ubud in the morning, so we knocked out some reservations and then started talking about dinner plans. I went to the front desk and asked the cute receptionist for recommendations.
We had some good options to choose from and the consensus was pizza. With another one of our roommates, we walked over to the spot. I was hungry enough to down a large NY-style pie without any trouble. I settled for wood fired pepperoni and a single light beer.
Right after finishing my food, I started to feel unwell. “Bali Belly” is a thing that affects many tourists, but I thought it was primarily about unsafe water consumption and I’d been careful about that. My fingers were crossed that it was just my body climbing up that replenishment hill for a little bit.
Nope.
I vomited immediately when I got back to my room. Unpleasant. Does this mean I can no longer trust the recommendations of cute receptionists? The other guys were totally fine, so I’m going to say no. That would be depressing anyway. Don’t eat anymore pizza in Bali? That’s also quite sad, but probably a reality for the near future.
It was a rough night of various pain and little sleep, but it didn’t manifest into full blown pinwheeling or anything. Phew. It must’ve been my body feeling depleted.
I was far from 100% in the morning so it was difficult to leave paradise. Before the ride to Ubud, Julian and I picked up another traveler in Nanne (27yr old, Finland). It was the making of an inseparable trio for the next two days.
I was trying to learn popular phrases on the plane. Totally lost on pronunciation though.
We were a bit late arriving and it was 11pm before I was done with customs. I learned my lesson from New Zealand and pre-arranged a shuttle to my accommodation. It seemed like a particularly smart call at this hour until I walked out toward the pick up area and was immediately overwhelmed.
There were at least 50 drivers holding signs with names on them. Ooof. A needle in a hay stack.
I walked the line like a lost puppy a few times without seeing my name. Maybe my guy didn’t show or waited forever and thought I wasn’t coming? It was back to doing it on the fly. I made my way toward the exit. When I turned a corner, I saw another 100 drivers smushed together waving more signs.
Round 2.
After another bit of looking I found a guy with “Nathan.” Phew. I went up to him and he was taken aback. Ok. Turns out there are other Nathans out there. The search continued…
I pushed past 30 people trying to get me to take their overpriced taxi before I finally found my driver. We had to push back through everyone to get outside.
Things were so much different than anything I’ve ever experienced. The new country elements: people, architecture, sounds and smells.
On the ride to my hostel, I was even surprised by the streets, which seemed more like alleys. They were narrow and unassuming. With sharp curves, my driver was honking before going around the bends to let possible oncoming traffic know he was there.
I saw countless motorbikes manned by helmetless drivers. They were zooming everywhere, seemingly without a lane assignment, easily able to avoid the plethora of stray dogs obliviously meandering in the middle of the road. Traffic patterns on the whole were interesting to observe. I think we only had one stoplight the entire drive. Zero stop signs. Every intersection was a clustercuss that somehow got sorted without the need of signals or an obvious system.
When we arrived at the hostel, I was still processing. I missed the sign asking me to remove my shoes before entering but did so quickly. It was a cozy spot tucked back off the main drag. There was a lot of bamboo. Wood and white.
During the check-in process, I got to deal with the currency for the first time, the Indonesian Rupiah, which is based in thousands. So a normal price for a large bottle of water is 10.000rp (72¢). I briefly thought about the fact that I was a billionaire here. Status.
I was shown up to my room, a relatively sterile 8-bed dorm. One thing that stood out immediately was the intense smell of mothballs. At least I wasn’t going to be swarmed by spiders in the night.
My bed was nice though. It had a lot of space, a privacy curtain, and a light + power outlet which is always clutch. I settled in for the night and figured I would wake up early the next morning to figure out my next move.
I woke up to gamelan playing — traditional Indonesian music featuring various percussive instruments. It was a pretty calming way to greet the day. I went downstairs for breakfast and did a bit of planning.
I was in Kuta, somewhat close to the airport, which I’d heard was just a busy place. Seminyak was on a few lists I’d researched and not too far away so I set my sights there. I made another hostel reservation and then was looking at transportation.
They don’t really have public transportation options here. Different. The most popular way to get around is to rent a scooter, which I was not feeling confident about after the initial ride in. I could also get a taxi or motorbike lift. Another option was Grab, an Uber equivalent.
I didn’t want to be exploited by a local this early in my trip, so I decided Grab was my best bet. A 20 minute ride ended up being around $2.86. Pretty killer. I learned later that it’s so cheap because they don’t have to pay any local taxes. However, they’re only allowed to operate in certain areas on the island. The Balinesian drivers are up in arms about it since they have allocate 30% of their fares to the government and helping the local village.
In any case, I got to Seminyak well before lunch and wanted to get out and have a look around the place. I also needed to pick up a new SIM at some point.I set my bags down and hit the street.
Warrior Shrine
Temple Door #1
Fem Shrine #2
There was a market next door that I perused for like an hour because I was so fascinated by the products and prices. I was still trying to wrap my head around the value of the currency. I revisited each aisle about 3 separate times. The employees were probably questioning my sanity.
I was too. Always am.
Eventually I escaped the curiosity of barbecue steak-flavored Cheetos and walked the streets. The first thing I noticed was all of these little intricate incense trays on the ground in front of stores and scattered around shrines. There were hundreds and the contents of each one was unique. I saw some with cigarettes, others with candies or shots of juice.
Canang Sari
Canang sari is a daily offering to the Hindu gods that represents praise and prayer. It’s quite incredible how each household and shop owner obsessively prepare their little masterpiece each day. This is special to Bali too, as the majority of Indonesia is Muslim, not Hindu.
So after a few hours of wandering around, I was beginning to pick up the vibe. You could not walk by a single person without being offered a scooter rental or to have a look in their store. A couple I spoke to on the plane told me I would be sick of horns within a day. I certainly heard my fair share, whether it was actual traffic usage or trying to get me into their taxi. I appreciated it as part of the overall soundscape (in that moment at least).
The streets were lined with various fashion and furniture stores as well as restaurants and cafes. This is Seminyak’s main claim to fame I suppose. For a tourist on a normal holiday with room in their bag and a job to return to, they could acquire a lot for a little from these vendors.
I inquired at a few stalls about a SIM but it took a while to find a solid option. Once that was all done I went back to the hostel to check in and get situated.
Double Six Beach
After I got set up in my cubby bed, I went down to the beach to see what was up. Walking out on the sand was an interesting experience because there was so much trash everywhere. Double Six was the popular spot, but it seemed a bit unremarkable, especially with the huge piles of debris and rubbish.
I decided to go back to the city and find some food and a happy hour special. I got two beers, some tasty dumplings and a good portion of fried rice for under $10. I was starting to get a giddy feeling about the money saving options in Bali. I ended the night on that positive note.
The next day there was more exploring on the docket. I was expanding my search and scouting out some solid sunset watching spots.
I ended up on a different beach and followed it north toward the bigger places in the distance. It was cleaner in the morning which was nice. A mile or two down the way I peeled back inland and walked around the outside of a temple. It looked nice but I was a bit intimidated to go inside because I wasn’t fully up on the customs.
Instead, I worked my way over to the sprawling campus of the W hotel to see what that was all about. I had to go through a security check just to get on the grounds. I felt like I was secretly trespassing into rich people territory.
When I got inside, I was impressed. Surprise, surprise. The place was massive and super nice. There were several levels of comfy seating areas and like 3 different restaurants/cafes within 30ft of each other. The pool set up was really the star attraction though. There were lounge chairs following every contour and well-placed palm trees adding that tropical flair.
I got a smoothie with a W-branded cup and was hoping that would be enough to make it look like I fit in. Within a minute of sitting down on one of the lounge chairs I was asked for my room number. That area was only for hotel guests. Damn.
The good news was only a few feet away was a poolside bar that I could sit at and still get swimming privileges. Bonus. I ordered a bucket of beers and posted up on a couch for the day.
I had a beer, got some sun, took a dip, had a beer, napped, had a beer and chilled hard. I think that was the closest I’ve ever been to living in the lap of luxury. I still felt like barbecue steak Cheetos in a caviar tin, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying it.
By the time I finished my last beer, the sun was getting ready to set and this was the perfect spot to watch. People were showing up in droves, so it actually paid off that I stumbled in early and stuck around. There wasn’t a single seat left anymore.
As sunsets go in Bali, it was kind of mediocre colors-wise, but the atmosphere made it exceptional. My afternoon playing someone with real money was a smashing success.
Even though I was only about 70km away from Byron Bay, I was in a new state and time zone. Queensland.
I didn’t do much research on this spot but I was able to find an AirBnB that was like half the price of all the hostels over the New Years period.
I found out why when I got to the house. I was in a shared room, which was just two mattresses on the floor. The kitchen was a mess, there wasn’t really any fridge space, there were…5 Brazilians living there and there was only one bathroom. Plus the place was hot as shit without any air conditioning.
I was intending to relax at the place but the amenities weren’t really all that pleasant. There was decent internet which was a silver lining.
One cool thing about Surfers Paradise is that there was water everywhere. There were a ton of random islands and inlets weaving all over the place.
I met up with Karalee (20yo Canadian), a fellow traveler I connected with on a FB Backpacker group. She was dogsitting for a family friend in a sweet house a block away from the beach.
We walked around the town and boardwalk while eventually formulating a plan for New Years Eve. There was a small group of other travelers from the same FB group that were interested in getting together too.
Everybody assembled at pool for a BBQ and hangout. I was the elder statesmen of the crew, which felt kinda weird. The next in line was a 25yo guy from India, then a 23yo German guy, 21 and 20yo German girls and Karalee.
Really pleasant people though. The mood was light and friendly. We had good conversation, took a dip in the hot tub and grilled up some sausages. Nobody was hitting the booze hard or anything. I actually got a 6-pack of Goose Island IPA to have that familiar taste of home.
As it got closer to midnight, we changed venues to Karalee’s place so we were closer to the beach for midnight. We marveled at the dog and played the Australian version of Cards Against Humanity to kill some time. The youngest German girl crushed us all, even with the language barrier.
We got out onto the beach and prepared for midnight. We were in one of the first time zones to ring in the new year. There was a decent fireworks show over the ocean. After the show, the group shared a few lessons learned from 2018 and some goals for 2019.
NYE Fireworks
It ended up getting whittled down to just me and Karalee at some point. We posted up under a blanket on the beach and took a short nap before waking up for the sunrise. That was a somewhat popular idea as there were a decent amount of other people scattered along the beach. A few dudes even went for a chilly swim.
It was close to 7am by the time I got back to Casa de Brazil. All of the tenants seemed to be away so I zonked out for a while and pretty much did nothing until I had to catch a bus up to Brisbane the following day.
Brissy, Brissy, Brissy can’t you see?
It was time for another Workaway. The house was in a suburb about 40 minutes via public transport outside of downtown.
I was greeted by Lozz, the very gregarious host. There was also a pretty Colombian Workawayer, Carolina, that arrived a little bit before me.
Lozz walked us through the basic everyday tasks and was very loose and informal about any other stuff we had to do.
Our daily charge was to walk the dog, look after the chickens and tidy up the pool area. We had a few other random tasks here and there but nothing extreme.
Chili Tofu Tortillas
Carolina and I tackled pretty much everything together. We also cooked some super solid vegetarian meals, as that was everybody else’s dietary preference. The chili tofu tortillas we whipped up were pretty dope.
I was helping her with English and she was sharing miscellaneous Spanish phrases with me.
We all got on very well. It was one of those situations where everybody felt immediately comfortable and familiar with each other. Lozz was so appreciative and positive about everything we did. Her kids, Ryan and Bri (30s), were cut from the same cloth as well. Just awesome people; really bright and energetic.
As far as exploring went, there was a day where I went to a Koala Sanctuary. The koalas (which are large marsupials and not bears) usually sleep for 20 hours a day but I showed up at the right time because the staff was changing out the eucalyptus leaves which meant feeding time. They were up and moving around which was cool to see. Super cute little things munching away. I also got to pet a kangaroo finally. And I was stared down hard by an emu. Unnerving.
I bussed downtown to wander around the city center and a few of the good suburbs. I went to the Gallery of Modern Art which was neat. My kind of museum.
In the evening, I met up with Jonathan, the guy I did Abel Tasman with back in NZ, and we did a touch of brewery hopping.
A few days later, I did a quick 40 minute walk up to the Mount Coot-tha summit, right by the house. Then I walked a few other suburbs, explored a park, checked out the artificial beach in the city and gave a few other beers a try.
Brisbane has a few unique things to offer that some other Australian cities don’t. It might not be as hip as Melbourne, or have as much going on as Sydney, but it still seemed like a good spot to be.
I was actually a bit sad to be leaving. I totally could’ve kept with the vibe and the people for longer.
Next up on the agenda was something tasty though. I was heading north to do a 3 day excursion on Fraser Island followed by a 2 day sailing trip around the Whitsundays.
I arrived in Gosford after an uneventful train ride and met my host, Peter, in the parking lot.
Rainbow After Hail Storm
He gave me a lift to his place which was about a 20 minute drive. Insane property and house. Basically a mansion. It was 3 levels and I’m not even sure how many bedrooms. This was the first Workaway I’d done with fellow Workawayers and we all had our own rooms if that says anything.
There was also an indoor and outdoor pool. Huge bonus.
José (18yo Mexican), Leena (20yo German), and Luca (21yo French) had all been there for a few days already and were doing garden work starting at 7am. I, on the other hand, would be working inside helping Peter make some videos for his personal development business. He was looking to gain more of a following on social media as well as drum up interest for his year-long 2019 program.
It was back in saddle for me. Did I remember how to make a video out of nothing? I was working with very little creative direction and assets. That was the norm for the job I left back in the States. It was an experiment to see if I could still apply myself and harness the old creative problem solving skills.
We started by having a conversation about exactly what he was looking for and how he viewed his business. I had to some of his insight in order to utilize it in the vids. Plus I had to bone up on the whole personal development scene. I didn’t know any of the intricacies.
After diving into some YouTube clips and digesting the info session, we began the production phase. He had a daily series of videos called “For Pete’s Sake” where he discussed a particular topic a person could address to make an easy change in their lives. Sometimes he would take on a more controversial subject to get a rise out of people. His stance on the “traditional Christmas” that people celebrate was unique and hilarious. Likely offensive for the average person as well.
We started small by making a simple one and getting the look down. Once that was dialed in we cranked out a few more so the rest of the week was stocked up. Then I began to tackle the promo/teaser for his Odyssey program. That was the big boy because it was supposed to be intriguing, enticing and inspirational. And we had almost no footage of past success stories or anything.
Over the course of the week, I fell into my old pattern of spending way too much time on something to make it perfect. I overworked the hell out of this joint. I completed the requisite amount of Workaway hours in like 2 days. I even edited another video for him on the train after I left. Needless to say, I have a weird relationship with video editing. It’s an awesome exercise in creativity but probably an unhealthy level of commitment.
Outside of all the time I spent staring at my computer and pressing buttons, it was a fun time. Peter and Mel were both interesting people who were very accommodating.
The group went on a field trip out to this park with the promise of being able to see and pet wild kangaroos. When we got there, there was a lady who’d blocked off access because she was their “caretaker” and thought they were being mistreated by the public who was visiting them. The thing was, it was at the entrance of a mental hospital, so we weren’t sure if she was legit or just a random patient. It was a really strange and unlucky situation. We took a brief walk in the bush and ended up seeing a ton hop off from afar. I really wanted to see a buff ass, gym rat ‘roo but I’d have to save that for another day.
That was the most socializing the group did. Dinners were usually pretty quiet and they all went to bed early since they were waking up to work.
Everybody left on the Friday before Christmas. I had a different arrangement since the editing was working out. Peter and Mel were comfortable letting me stay for a party they had planned.
They hosted a few of their friends and kids for a day and night. It ended up getting pretty wild because they were crushing beer and wine like water. There was beer pong (undefeated) with some random streaking, a gift exchange with some scandalous presents and a late night swim and hot tub sitch. All good fun. Super nice of them to let a relative stranger take part in that.
I waited too long to book my transportation to the next place so I ended up staying on Christmas Eve and helping with more videos. They were also totally cool giving me a lift to the train station on Christmas morning.
I spent almost all of Christmas Day in transit. It was a gnarly 10 hour train ride followed by an hour+ bus to Byron Bay.
The only interesting thing about the train ride was that two super drunk dudes rode it for like 4 hours before getting kicked off because they didn’t have tickets. They were hammered at 10am when they boarded too, so it was mildly impressive.
I was told how nice Byron Bay was from a few different travelers. The added bonus was that Stephany and her friends were there too. That was a partially motivating factor to go there in case any holiday loneliness set in.
I woke up at the ass crack on Boxing Day and took a 40 minute walk up to the Cape Byron Lighthouse to see the sunrise. I think it might be the most eastern point in Australia? At least in Byron Bay. It was a pretty solid morning. I also got to video chat with some of the fam as they were opening gifts.
Cape Byron Sunrise #1
The main draw to Byron Bay is all of the beautiful beaches. I was determined to darken my shade of whiteness so I hit the sand in the afternoon (Main Beach). The trick was to not get burnt. And that was actually quite difficult because the UV index was continually at a high of like 14 – “extreme risk.” I used an extreme amount of sunscreen so I was safe after day one.
On day two, I met up with the crew at a different beach (The Pass) and chilled out. The water was insanely blue and refreshing. Beaches, man. They’re pretty awesome apart from the sand. I’m not the only one that thinks it’s a nuisance, right?
We all got cleaned up at our various places after getting our fill of sun and reconvened at the girls’ AirBnB for dinner. They went HAAM on buying food when they first arrived so it was one of those meals with a collection of miscellaneous sides that was awesome. There was promise of going to a brewery after but everybody bailed from sun fatigue.
I went back to the hostel and met up with one of my roommates. Philip was from Sweden and he was hanging out with a few guys who lived in the Netherlands. We all went out to a bar that had live music for a beer. It turned into several.
We changed venues to a place called Woody’s, a pseudo-club. One of the dudes was the most friendly drunk ever. Pretty sure he introduced himself to everybody in the establishment. Toward the end of the night he was going around and collecting half-empty drinks. Bold move. He has herpes now but he saved a decent amount on alcohol. Worthwhile trade off?
In the morning, I met the group at their spot again. We had a pretty solid breakfast and then went to yet another beach (Little Wategos). It was a somewhat secluded spot that also had a nice shady area for me to take refuge in after I felt the burn coming on. The sun variety, not the herp. I didn’t share any of the foraged drinks.
The Pass Beach
Surfers Going In
Little Wategos
It was everybody’s last night in Byron, so we planned to go to the brewery for real and then go from there. After a sunset beverage, they called an audible. I couldn’t take a two-day brewery tease with no payoff so I split from them and agreed to meet up later. I rendezvoused with Philip and we started walking.
We were almost there when some people heading the opposite direction told us they were at capacity and not letting anybody else in. Dammit.
We ended up going to a converted railway station. It was a super popular spot with a large outdoor area. They also had music on and the band was crushing it. They did pretty exceptional covers of Bohemian Rhapsody and Hey Jude.
Once the band was done, we met everyone at a bar called the Sticky Wicket where there was also live music. It was all relatively well behaved until things moved upstairs to the dance floor. The night seemed to end in a quick blur from there. We closed the place down and I said a brief and segmented goodbye to all of the lovely people I’d hung out with there and in Sydney. Then I went back and got terrible sleep in my sauna of a dorm room.
In the morning. I repacked my bag and hopped on a shuttle bounds for Surfers Paradise. This is where I would spend New Year’s Eve.
The place of kiwis. The place of mountains. The place of bays and glaciers and unique wildlife.
The people were kind, the scenery was stunning, and the hiking was next level.
In reflecting on my time in New Zealand, it’s a struggle to vividly remember it all. Three months is a lengthy adventure.
My arrival in Auckland seems like a year ago. Either that’s because my memory is as shit as I think it is, or time has been distorted by the amount of experiences I fit into that glorious 90-day window.
I met heaps of people. Many of them fleetingly, but a few kindred spirits that I could easily contact if/when visiting their home countries (and vice versa). I also picked up a little bit of lingo if you didn’t catch that usage of “heaps.”
On that note, probably the most valuable part of this trip has been the immersion into another culture. Even though it may have only been a subtle contrast to that of the U.S., it’s still an important process. I’m not going to sit here and say I’m a changed person or anything, but seeing the way other people live everyday life can at least open your mind to a different approach.
I wrote about the “no worries” attitude before and that’s something I hope I’m able to keep with me as I go forward. Everything doesn’t have to be taken so seriously. Things work out. There’s a lot of stuff out there we can’t control, so just take it as it comes. No worries.
By the Numbers
Days in New Zealand: 91 Days at Workaways: 43 Days with a Rental Car: 28 Nights in Hostels: 39 NZD Spent: ~$7,425.84 USD Spent: ~$5,017.46 (Avg. conversion rate of roughly 1.48)
Also, here’s my Trip Advisor profile. I was reviewing things pretty heavily up until I wasn’t. Maybe one day I’ll finish it out but it doesn’t seem likely.
Finally, I still don’t really know what I’m doing, but I think I’ve taken some decent pictures along the way. Kind of hard to screw it up with scenery that good. Below is an album with my favorite photos from New Zealand.
The rest of my adventure was going to be significantly different from the first bit.
For starters, I was going to be seeing an all new part of the country…obviously. But the main thing of note was that I got a rental car.
Mazda Premacy
Game changer.
Flexibility. Travel mates. Getting off the beaten path. Shelter.
From Abel Tasman, I hitched a ride to the Nelson airport in 3 phases:
To Motueka with a roommate from my hostel.
For like a mile with possibly the most attractive girl I’ve seen in NZ (she took me closer to the prime hitchhiking spot).
Finally, with a 70+ year old Dutchman who took us on a detour through Mapua for coffee.
I picked up the car and I was feeling so good. It was also such a beautiful day out that it’d be hard to be in a bad mood.
Straight away, I went to grab some supplies. The car was pricy so my plan was to save money by stocking up on food and sleeping in the car/camping as much as possible.
There’s this store kind of similar to Walmart called The Warehouse. Everything is super cheap. I snagged some cutlery, tupperware, a cooler bag and some other odds and ends. Then I went grocery shopping.
Boom. I was on my way to the West Coast.
The drive was actually unremarkable in the beginning — pretty typical farmland and countryside. I started to hit some gorges and interesting valleys right when it got dark, so that was kind of a bummer.
I arrived in Westport at about 10pm and was really looking forward to the coming few days.
Cue another rainy day.
I took that as a sign and decided to catch up on some admin type stuff. I went to the library since the hostels in small towns don’t usually have unlimited, consistent internet.
Westport Library
I was just getting into a state of flow when the library closed. It was 1pm on a Saturday. A lot of stores and restaurants will shut down at 3pm on the weekends. That’s a random bit of culture shock I’ve noticed — shops willing to close during prime money-making hours. I mean, fair enough. I cherish my free time as well.
Since it was still raining out and I wanted to keep taking advantage of that sweet, sweet bandwidth, I drove the car and parked it outside of the library. Still in range to mooch. Resume browsing.
After like two hours of sitting there, I realized I left the lights on so the battery was dead. Ya dumb dummy. I had a car again for barely 24 hours.
I got the kind hostelkeeper to drive down and give me a jump. Except the jumper cables weren’t working so I had to leave it overnight. Not a huge deal; it got sorted in the morning.
As I was preparing to check out in the morning, my roommate, a French guy named Alex, asked what my plans were. He was interested in going the same way that I was, but didn’t have much of a plan. How laissez-faire of him. I invited him to tag along being that company on walks is nice and all. His accent was tough to understand at times, but we got by.
I’m just going to rapid fire what we did because I don’t want to write a novella and you don’t want to read it.
The skies cleared as we did the Charming Creek Walkway over some old mining cart paths and a swing bridge to a pretty waterfall.
Hiked a 3 hour loop track in some heavy bush and mud to do some unguided exploring in the Fenian Caves. Headlamps were required.
Got greeted by a random Kiwi guy when we returned to the car. He told us most of his life story in a few minutes. Apparently he became a pseudo-famous photographer in Japan some years back. (If you’re interested in finding someone to follow, and then later unfollow, check him out on Instagram @pauljohnmurray)
Dropped Alex off to stay at basically the only backpackers in Karma
Drove up to literally the end of the road and camped at Kohaihai. Awesome sunset and outrageous seas.
Picked up Alex in the morning and backtracked to the Oparara Basin
Did a few small walks to see two natural limestone arches and the whiskey-colored river. A bit underwhelming.
Spent an absurd amount of money on petrol. It is absurd.
Drove back through Westport (131km).
Stopped at Cape Foulwind to eat lunch and see the lighthouse/views.
Went to Tauranga Bay to scope the seal colony.
Drove to Punakaiki (59km).
Walked the Truman Track to check out some more crazy seas.
Explored the Pancake Rocks and Blowholes while watching the sun set. Pretty epic.
Went to the tavern for dinner and a beer.
Camped at the only place we could find.
Left to Right: Fenian Caves, Kohaihai Beach, Moria Gate Arch
Tauranga Bay Pano
Punakaiki Sunset
It was a jam-packed two days. Alex woke up early to hitchhike and meet up with a travel mate so I was back to riding solo. It actually came at a good time. Getting to know other travelers is a valuable experience, but sometimes I just want to turn on some music and cruise in the sunshine while new scenery whips past. That’s what I love about road trips and that’s what I was ready for. It was a great day for it as well.
I went back to the Pancake Rocks to get another look before hitting the road. Most of the drive was along the coast and it was gorgeous. Very reminiscent of the California PCH; seeing the waves crash onto the rocks as the road curves up and down the mountains, hugging the edge.
It was only a 40 minute drive to the next town but it was pleasant enough to replenish a few soul points.
Monteith’s
My plan was to pit stop and use the i-Site to set up an itinerary of must-dos around Greymouth and Hokitika. The weather was so perfect, and I heard tell of a beer scene, that I decided to stay.
I wandered around the CBD and did part of the flood wall walk. Then I set up shop in the brewery.
