I’ve been on the road for over 6 months now. The way I’ve been traveling is a bit loose; more or less planning as I go so I’m free to be spontaneous if the opportunity arises. I’ve had plenty of amazing and unforgettable experiences to be sure. But, obviously not every day can be an epic adventure. I’ve found that usually after a really incredible week of jam-packed fun, the next few days come with a down turn — a lack of activities and sometimes lonely feelings creeping up. If I’m not sure what to do next, I end up rushing through the planning phase to try and get to the following amazing experience and either make some bad decisions or waste time being indecisive.
So, even though a trip like this should be stress free, I have felt some pressure to make every moment count. That also applies to managing all of this media. Photography, video, witty status updates. As mentioned, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity so I’ve has the mindset that anything left uncaptured is lost. It doesn’t seem totally healthy, or accurate. It’s not like the world is an attraction that’s closing next year (although maybe in the next 10 according to some climate change scientists). Sometimes it’s hard to accept that putting down the camera is ok. I’ve actually done this for almost a full month in Vietnam and nothing has crumbled to the ground…yet.
Anyway, I think the guilt — or shall I call it “drive” (to be more positive) — is innate within me. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I always feel the need to create. When I was back home, if I spent an afternoon watching Netflix there was a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I should be writing music. While on the road, I’ve tried my best to fill my “down time” with video or photo editing.
I’ve come across plenty of long-term travel blogs and forums discussing the importance of “rest”, which might be an infuriating term for those of you out there still going to work everyday. How do you need rest when you’re on what is an extended vacation? It does seem counterintuitive. I suppose taking a day to chill out and not worry about planning and logistics refreshes the mind and body. Maybe so.
For me, I’ve tried it out a few times. The main problem I encounter is that it disrupts the inertia. It’s exponentially harder for me to get the forward momentum back once I’ve taken my foot off the gas. The couch or bed swallows me. I have trouble fighting my way out. Searching for the next hilarious meme is substantially easier than getting outside and going for a run, amirite? Sigh. Stupid motivation.
In the grand scheme of things, what does this mean? I guess I’m realizing that some of our impulses can’t be rerouted. I thought that my brain chemistry might change its configuration a bit while traveling. Even though I’m learning a lot and processing a few large-scale thoughts, there’s two principles that remain constant: life will find a balance and I can’t escape my inner desire to make shit.
Legacy has been a subject I’ve been thinking about over the past two years or so. Maybe something that comes out of this trip will be mine. But if not, I have to figure out how to be ok with that. Because experiences aren’t erased even if there’s no tangible evidence.
I’m not even sure how long it’s been since my last post. Time has been flying by here in Halong Bay.
I took a local shuttle from Hanoi, where no one at the company spoke English. It worked out though. As we made the approach to my drop off point, we drove along the water and the plethora of limestone islands gave an impressive vibe.
I was the last one to get out and I felt a small sense of relief when I realized I was indeed at the right place. I walked inside the building and took the elevator up to the 15th.
After knocking on the door, I was greeted by Hiểu, who is the 15 year old son of my host, Quynh. He let me into the small yet tidy apartment and we chatted for a while about soccer and his other interests.
The view from the apartments balcony is epic by the way. The weather has mostly been overcast/rainy since I’ve been here but when it turns, the complete vista will be very epic.
Eventually, Quynh got home so we met and talked as she prepared dinner. It was a tasty meal of fish and rice, which we ate early because there were two English classes (that I was there to help teach) that startied soon.
Even though it was the first day I was there, I went to the classes for a short amount of time to introduce myself. The kids were excited for a foreign visitor and did their best to ask me questions and satisfy their curiosities.
That was a Thursday. On the way to get coffee on Saturday, Quynh said we were going to swing by the local English Center so I could have an interview with the director there. I didn’t really have any idea what this was about. After a very brief 15 minute meeting, of which I said maybe 5 sentences, I was signed up to teach additional English classes during the day in actual schools. It was a paying job which was unexpected, but also very quick. Baptism by fire. With no teaching certification and no experience commanding a classroom, I was set to have 4 classes per day between the center and the Workaway. Crazy. I taught two of the older classes by myself over the weekend in an effort to get up for the school gig.
Quynh took me on a special outing Sunday afternoon to see her home town and meet some of her family. Because we were still in the getting to know each other phase, and I was acclimating to the communication style, it was a unique experience. I came out of it wondering if it was an audition/initiation into the family that I was unaware of. Her brother had me repeat something he said in Vietnamese which I found out was “Do you want to be my son-in-law?” (because he was the patriarch of the family since the father passed away). We had dinner at one of her sisters’ houses where they gave me local whiskey and laughed at how little I ate. Finally, on the drive home, Quynh asked me if I wanted to be part of her big family. I said I could be an honorary member but she insisted I could only join by marriage. My heart paused beating before she said she was joking. But then mentioned she did have a lot of nieces.
Now, I think it was all an innocent thing. But before I knew her all that well, a decent part of me thought I was being courted.
Flash forward to Monday and I was thrown into the deep end by the English Center. I observed two public school kindergarten classes in the morning and was told I’d be teaching three of my own in the afternoon.
Let me reiterate my complete lack of teaching experience again. That combined with my…how should I say…slight aversion to young kids did not seem like it would produce a positive end result.
Also, my classes were all at Montessori schools which had syllabi. I had to create three lesson plans in two hours and make flashcards and such. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no concept of the games and songs the kids needed to stay entertained.
There was a last minute scramble to find everything I needed. In no way did that mean I was fully prepared though. I ended up running to the school to make it on time. When I got there, I was told there was a mistake and I was meant to go to a different class…for which I didn’t have the required materials. Even younger kids. Fucked.
It was a full blown disaster. Keeping the attention of a class that young for an hour is a near impossible feat. I have a new level of appreciation for pre-k and kindergarten teachers. I ran out of things to do after 20 minutes. I sweat through my button down shirt, and somehow my pants. It was a full blown disaster.
I can’t remember the last time I felt as uncomfortable and out of my element as I did that first day of “official” teaching. Thankfully there was a godsend of a TA in my 0-3yr old class that helped me along as best she could. But it was still rough.
My last class of the day went better but still miles below average. It was just 40 minutes. Still, I staggered over the finish line like an exhausted Iron Man competitor. Yikes.
Since that first day, things have gotten mildly better. I still don’t feel like I’m doing a good job, but I’m wearing an under shirt now so it’s harder to notice my sweatiness. And I’ve found a few different activities that help me stretch time. I‘ve also developed a good rapport with my night class students. They’re going well because it’s a chill and informal format.
The downside is I’ve had practically no free time to explore because I’m planning in the morning, teaching in the afternoon, eating dinner, and then teaching in the evening. And the grubby little buggers got me sick for the first time this trip.
I’m sure there will come a time when I settle into a rhythm and don’t have to take as much time to plan but it hasn’t happened yet.
The good news, is that my brother was here over the weekend. The weather left something to be desired, but we got to spend a day romping around Halong Bay and even won some money at the casino. Then we went to Hanoi and explored some sights and food. It was great to see a familiar face and pal around.
Before he arrived, he asked me about the bar scene and for once in my life I didn’t know how to respond. I’ve only had one real night out and it was down the block to a very local place where a friend of Quynh’s kept making me chug bia hoi (the fresh, unfiltered beer). She was hammered.
Maybe next post I’ll have more juiciness to report. For right now, it’s mostly flashcards and unruly toddlers with a light reprieve of conversations with Quynh/Hiểu and a visit from family. I’ll take it.
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.
Whether it’s Hindu or Muslim, Indonesian or Balinese, Nasi Goreng or Mie Goreng, Grab or GOJEK, slow ferry or fastboat, the Nusas or the Gilis — Bali (and Lombok) were an adventurous step in my travels.
I started to learn what Asia was like on the senses. A language barrier, a major customs difference and a semi-chaotic transportation system. There’s continuous pressure to enter every shop and take every massage offered. Few prices are set and while individual items are cheap, costs add up when you’re nickel and dimed for everything. My bargaining skills are still a work in progress but I did get a partially new wardrobe to cope with the heat.
Aside from more airy clothes, another way to cool off was taking advantage of all of the pools and beaches. Plus, most of my showers were cold showers. Speaking of water, future travelers need to budget a few dollars a day for safe drinking water. Save the risk of Bali Belly for that seafood indulgence or potentially suspect sate ayam. I only had one night of sickness and discomfort so I’ll consider myself lucky.
On a more positive note, it was wet season but the rain primarily happened at night which was nice. That gave me ample time to enjoy the stunning scenery in the sunshine. I didn’t have to go far to experience the diversity of paradise-like beaches and resorts versus lush green rice terraces and monkey forests.
In terms of worthwhile activities, there were plenty of options to choose, ranging from recreational to spiritual. I did a sacred cacao ceremony and sound healing as well as got 12m deep with my first ever dive. I also spent a day on a scooter and didn’t wreck myself so that’s classified as a huge win.
People came in varying degrees. Most of the locals I interacted with were gracious and humble. There were a select few that were solely focused on taking advantage of tourists. Here’s looking to you, Bangsal Harbor guy. I suppose you’ll find that everywhere though.
I did have the good fortune of making a few meaningful connections with fellow travelers — a common trend throughout my journey that I’ll be happy to keep going.
As far as unfinished business, there were a few sights I missed out on: particularly Mt. Batur, the Lempuyang Gate, and the pink beaches of eastern Lombok. I could see myself coming back to be a hostel promoter or to finish a diving certification. If I ever take up surfing, Bali would be a top destination also. And in an even bigger long shot, the Gili Islands are a must-do romantic getaway should I ever land a significant other.
We’ll just have to see about that.
By the Numbers
Days in Bali: 30 Day Tours: 2 Avg Daily Water Intake: 2.5L Bargaining Opportunities: 14 Boat Rides: 11 Motorbike Rides Without Incident: 15 IRD Spent: ~17,797,768.00 USD Spent: ~$1,270.859 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 14007.49)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
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 remember when I first landed in Melbourne and was shocked by the amount of people and the heat. Turns out it was an abnormally hot day. But still, I encountered people and heat in varying degrees (no pun) on my journey down under.
The cities were big and spread out and had distinct subsections of culture.
I learned what it was like to live either barefoot or in thongs (flip flops). I learned the capital wasn’t Sydney. I learned that there were many breathtaking sunrises and sunsets to be seen.
Initially, I had concerns about all of the dangerous wildlife. Thankfully, I was never stung, bitten or clawed by any of those animals. I never even saw a snake in the wild. Did I? I don’t think so. I did see a few spiders and jellyfish, but nothing that threatened immediate harm.
At first, I had a hard time finding my rhythm. It’s difficult to pinpoint why. It’s not like I had to make a major adjustment or anything. Regardless, I don’t think I really settled in until I was almost a month into my time in Australia. That’s when I understood what was on offer. Traveling up the east coast was mainly about enjoying the beaches and water.
Indian Head Views
I was adopted into a large friend group of ex-pats in Sydney. They were welcoming and generous and gave me a sense of community. It was a kind of security blanket to fall back on if I ever needed it.
Speaking of people, my two marquee experiences were on tour groups. Actually, the main difference between having an awesome time in Australia vs. New Zealand came down to people. In NZ, I had plenty of fun just walking in nature. In Oz, fast friendships made the biggest impact. An interpersonal connection can easily add more value to an adventure. Since I consider myself a low-key extrovert, bonding with a few different groups of people really elevated whatever I was doing. I was fortunate enough to enjoy this on a few occasions.
There will always be something drawing me back to Australia. Part of it will be to visit the central and western areas of the country. The other part…I’m not exactly sure. To sky dive? Maybe. Either that, the crystal blue water or the gorgeous women.
It’s certainly not Vegemite.
“Awe, yeah?” “Yeah, right.”
By the Numbers
Days in Australia: 56 Days at Workaways: 16 Nights in Hostels: 31 Multi-day Tours: 2 Hours in Transit (Bus or Train): ~60 AUD Spent: ~$4,342.18 USD Spent: ~$3,192.78 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 1.36)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Places: 1. Fraser Island 2. Melbourne 3. Whitsundays 4. Byron Bay 5. Brisbane
I mean a night bus. But that’s what I was thinking it would be. A 14 hour trip up to Airlie Beach on a budget coach.
It actually wasn’t all that bad. Bus travel here, even with a no-frills company, is still 10 times better than in the US. Apart from two girls yucking it up the entire time, I got a surprising amount of shut eye. It wasn’t a recuperative night’s sleep by any means, but it was enough to get me through the day.
I arrived at 9:30am and went straight to the hostel to set down my luggage. I had the day to kill before embarking on my sailing trip the next afternoon.
During a bit of exploring, I got the impression that Airlie Beach was a place where there was a lot of money. It was small and tourist-centric, but everything was nice. There were fancy marinas and houses with views. I guess it makes sense considering the Whitsundays has one of the most popular beaches in the world.
In the morning when I was packing up my stuff, I found out that a dorm-mate was on the same boat as me. Janina was a 19yo German girl with an accent that leaned more UK/Aussie. She’s the kind of person that becomes fast friends with everyone because she’s comfortable carrying the conversation about whatever topic. She had plenty of crazy stories about her experience traveling Australia. Her family also runs a brewery in Southern Germany, so I need to remember that.
When it came time, we walked to the marina together and met the rest of the tour group. Our ship, the Mandrake, held 14 passengers, plus the skipper, a deck hand and a volunteer. What’s funny is of the 14 tour takers, 11 of them were German. There were separate groups of 5 guys, 3 girls, 2 girls and then Janina.
That was a big difference from the Fraser Island experience, which had more solo travelers on it. It meant that the groups kept to themselves a lot more so there wasn’t as much socializing amongst everyone.
After boarding, we got our bunk assignments and dropped our belongings. As we were leaving the harbor, we gathered above deck to get our safety briefing from deckhand Michael, who was our chef, doctor, janitor and source of information for the trip.
Airlie Beach looked pristine from the water as it was slowly disappearing behind us. Once we got far enough out, the sails went up and we were legit sailing.
Mandrake was built in the 80s I think, and it was a cruiser at that time. Its sister ship actually won the America’s Cup back then at some point and I think that was the first time a non-US vessel took home the top prize.
Overall, it was a pretty low key first day. We sailed to a spot called the Hook Island Pass and moored there for the night. We watched the sunset and ate a pretty tasty dinner.
We had a few beers as it got dark and chatted with the skipper.
Everybody turned in because it was an early wake up call the next morning. Myself, Janina and the 2 German girls, Lisa and Tessa, decided to sleep on deck under the stars. I had to find a spot to put my bed sheet and pillow case. It’s not like there were a lot of cushioned spots available, so it didn’t really matter.
It was a relatively solid night in the ocean air. I was woken up by a few chilly winds and a quick sprinkle, but all in all it was nice.
Greg, the skipper, came above deck at a little after 5am to get the motor running and we were on our way shortly thereafter.
We pulled into Tongue Bay by 7am I want to say. We were shuttled over to Whitsundays Island in two dingy trips and from there went up to Hill Inlet lookout. It was high tide, so we had the chance to see the before/after of the swirling sands a few hours later as the water went out. Quite a beautiful site.
Swirling Sands Pano
We found out that Whitehaven Beach is the most Instagram’d beach in the world. Insane. It’s silica sand is super white and fine. Some of the girls actually did a mini exfoliating session and refreshed some of their jewelry with it.
Since we were there so early, Janina and I were the first ones to set foot on the sand. We got an exclusive exploration session, had a photoshoot at a beached tree and a swim in a lagoon before another group showed up. Later when we left there were around 200 people filing in.
Back on the boat, we ate lunch and made our way to the next location. Turtle Bay was the spot where we were doing our first snorkel.
It took a minute to acclimate to solely mouth breathing, but after that it was pretty sick. Michael threw some food in the water from the dingy as the group was basically surrounded by all kinds of fish. There were a few big and gnarly looking ones that gave me a brief freak out but it was quite exhilarating in the end. There wasn’t much of a reef, but the fish activity made up for it. I could’ve floated there all day watching everything move around me.
At some point we had to re-board the ship and head on. Most of the group were already out of their stinger suits and snacking when Janina and I climbed the ladder. We kept ours half on since the next stop was another snorkel anyway. This was a clutch decision because as we were about to leave, two turtles showed up.
We jumped back in and got to witness them share a jellyfish for lunch. It was a pretty surreal experience. I was almost too mesmerized to mind the little particles that were starting to surface and could still sting. Luckily, I avoided them all.
The next spot wasn’t as good for the swimmy creatures, but there was a much more vibrant reef system that we got to check out. In some spots it was just a foot or two underneath us too, so that was a unique site to see. Again, I had to be dragged out of the water so Michael could get dinner started.
We set up for the night in Sunset Bay, which is a good spot for whale watching.
Sunset in Sunset Bay
Kidding. It was a good spot to catch an unobstructed sunset. We also got to see a mass exodus of bats fly overhead. If you’re wondering, there is a word for a grouping of bats similar to a murder of crows. It’s colony or cloud. I Google’d.
In any case, we ate some beef stew and cheesy mashed potatoes and then fell back into the beers and chatting routine.
There were only 3 people that elected to sleep on deck that night, so I got a yoga mat to put beneath me. I’m not sure it made much of a difference but it was a decent night. Still had a few cold winds, a bright moon and then a more substantial shower that forced me inside for the last 30 minutes of sleep.
We had breakfast and an uneventful morning snorkel before we were headed back to harbor.
The sails were up but there wasn’t much help from the wind. The cool thing was that Greg got out his fishing rod and dropped a line behind us as we cruised. Maybe 30 minutes later there was a fish on. He was thinking it was a mackerel but it ended up being a weird tuna which he said wasn’t very good for eating. He still landed it so we could check it out and then tossed it back. It was fun to watch. Fishing used to be a huge hobby for me in my younger days, so it kind of reignited that desire a bit. I’m going to look for a charter when I get up to Cairns and try to reel some in.
That was the last big thing that happened before we were docked back in Airlie. As we were pulling in, I wondered if it was too late for me to become a deckhand. It was a small and super chill group. Sailing, snorkeling, sunsets. I really like being on the water. Something to think about.
Anyway. the experience wasn’t over yet because there was an afterparty that evening at a bar where we got a few discounted items.
I repacked my bags and took a much needed shower before it was time to reconvene with the group.
The 5 German dudes had apparently been at the place since the early afternoon, Lisa and Tessa were an impressive bottomless pit for food and alcohol based on how fit they were, and Janina was going hard with a skydiving trip lined up for 4:30am. This is when I realized, if not for the first time then once more, that I’m an old traveler. At least for the way I’m traveling — hostel life, tour groups, buses, whatever is cheapest. I had 10 years on the majority of the group. Maybe everyone.
It probably wasn’t all that evident until the next morning. I had to get up and check out early to catch my next bus and I think I was still drunk. It was definitely a cloudy situation. I remember being at the second bar and standing in a group yelling over the music to talk to someone. Then the next minute searching the bar without finding anyone. These two instances could’ve been 2 minutes or 2 hours apart. Regardless, I know that’s when I left. Thankfully I made it back to the right place and heard my alarm.
I was sweating buckets by the time I got to the bus station and really hoping the AC worked on that piece because otherwise it was going to be a touch and go ride.
