Kuta, Bali (for Mar. 13)

We slept in until 9 and then wandered down for a sumptuous buffet breakfast. We explored the resort to get our bearings. What a beautiful spot! We only visited the beach briefly because of the peddlers. I feel for then because they have to do what they have to do to make a living, but we don’t want what they are selling and they won’t give up.

After our tour, we went back to our room to cool off. First I phoned the airline about my bag, but no luck yet. I then went on the balcony and started making a list of what was in the lost bag while it was still fairly fresh in my mind and in case we needed it. Celeste decided it would be a good idea to have an inventory of her bag also, so she made one in air conditioned comfort. It is very warm and humid on the balcony. You can only catch a hint of breeze and you sweat just sitting in the shade, but I came here for heat and I’m a goin’ to soak up some heat! I kind of like it as long as I know I have an air conditioned refuge to retreat to once in a while.

Next stop was the pool. Heaven! Sitting by the poll in the shade you caught enough of a breeze that it was actually quite comfortable. Celeste had a nap and I finished the book that I started on the airplane out of Sydney.

We packed up at 2:30 and went back to our room to clean up for a 4 PM pick up by our tour guide. When he picked us up at the airport, it became clear that he was our personal guide for our stay here. We also had a driver and van. He said we had to leave the hotel by 5:30 to make it to an included cultural performance, but he suggested picking us up earlier so he could show us around. We agreed on 4 PM. At the appointed time, we were off and running. It now became apparent that this was not so much a tour as a series of visits to artisan stores where he, no doubt, received a commission on whatever we bought. He was going to take us to a woodcarving shop, a gold and silversmith shop, and a sandstone carving shop. We told him we weren’t interested in the gold and silver, but might take a look at some wood. We really don’t need any more bric a brac and getting it home unbroken is problematic. Anyway, Celeste found a small carving that wasn’t too expensive and looked like it might travel OK, so we picked it up and moved on. We stopped at the stone carving place for interest – we weren’t taking any of that home. Most were a couple of hundred pounds or more. We were more hoping to see the sights and some of the many Hindu temples we passed. In hindsight, we should have just worked out a price for him to show us what we wanted to see. Lesson learned. But remembered? Probably not.

Finally, we arrived at the cultural performance. This consisted of a short play and two unrelated performances accompanied by a group of 36 chanting, and occasionally singing men. At first, just the chanters came out and did a bit of a warm up. When it seemed like it was going on a little too long, Celeste leaned over and said, “I hope they don’t want us to buy their CD.” Very funny, but maybe you had to be there. What made it even funnier was that I had seen their CD in the shop before the show!

Anyway, when the show started, it was actually pretty good. The costuming was quite excellent. From the broken English program they gave us, it was about an evil king who kidnapped a beautiful princess who was rescued by the handsome prince with the aid of the white monkey and the monkey king. This was followed by a dance by two young girls (supposedly in a trance) who were able to coordinate their dance steps with their eyes closed. Nothing they couldn’t do at the Martin School of Dance with a little practice. Finally another guy with his eyes closed in a supposed trance kicked around some burning coconut husks. Ouch! That’s got to hurt. I didn’t get very good pictures because the stage was not brightly lit and we were not close enough for the flash to be effective despite being in the front row. And the chanting actually seemed to fit the show and blended in quite nicely.

After the performance, we asked our guide to take us someplace where we could purchase some cable ties (zip ties) for sealing our suitcases closed. I like to uses them so you can tell if anyone tampered with your bag, but it is no big loss if someone official decides to open it. I have been using them all along and brought along a supply of extras that I had been carrying in my carry on bag. However, in Darwin, there was no lineup at check in, so we were rushing through and I stuck them in my pocket. When going through security, I emptied my pockets into a tray for x-ray. The security guard said I couldn’t take them on board because I could string them into a rope-like tool that could be dangerous, so I had to forfeit them.

Anyway, our guide had never seen such a thing. He took us to a grocery store in a nearby mall, but they had never seen anything like it either. They suggested another store in another mall. I was ready to give up, but our guide insisted on taking us and said it wasn’t far. Sure enough, a few minutes later we were back in business. I gave him some samples for his own use. He was quite intrigued. I felt like an ancient trader who had just brought some new tool to a primitive world – sort of. I guess I will have to fatten his tip for the extra time, trouble, and gas.

The performance lasted from 6:30 to 7:30 and we were back at the hotel by 8:30. There was a message waiting for us to call the airline. Betting on good news, I gave them a call. They had found my bag in Sydney. After some discussion, we decided that the best course of action was to send it from there to Phuket. If it leaves Sydney on the morning flight, it should easily have time to make the connection.

Celeste was developing a headache and I was also tired, so we were in bed by 9.

Traffic here is pretty wild. Except for a couple of main streets in the city, the roads are very narrow and crowded. There are quite a few cars and vans, but most people ride motor bikes and scooters. Our guide said that, although helmets are mandatory and we observed that the majority wear them, 60-70% of deaths every year are in traffic accidents. Leaving from a traffic light is like the start of a marathon race, every body scrambling for position. Bikes and cars dart in and out of gaps in the traffic just inches for other vehicles. Lines painted on the toad are only suggestions, kind of like Regina in winter, except here they don’t have ruts to follow either.