Tuesday August 30th
2011
The feeling was not to last, as we soon descended to
lower altitudes of Java to continue our eastward journey. The new destination would be Nusa Lembongan,
a tiny island just beyond the shores of the popular tourist holdout of Bali. We would be returning to Bali later but first
we were scheduled to unite with friends of Dustin’s on the promising scenic and
less crowded beaches of Lembongan.
Wading into the ocean with our bags above our heads and trying to time
our movements with those of the crashing waves, we boarded our ferry, only to
climb to the top and sprawl out on the roof like a mess of human raisins drying
in the sun. You would have been hard
pressed to find anything but a smile on the faces that surrounded me, a gathering
of mixed cultures but sharing a similar youthful disposition. I dare say of all
the things I could think to be doing on a Tuesday morning, island hopping in
Indonesia is definitely one of the better options.
Wednesday August
31st 2011
It hadn’t even been a month since I was last on a beach
but it was good to be back. Nusa
Lembongan was busy but hardly full or crowded.
It was difficult to believe that only one day previous had seen me
huddled in my sleeping bag in the frigid air of Mt Bromo, only now to be
sweating as I sit nearly naked on the shore watching the sun burn itself out
into the watery horizon. As the tide
goes out you can see a seemingly chaotic array of seaweed farms. It really is
an interesting site to see a giant patchwork of squares and rectangles filled
with rows of seaweed. Apparently the
organized planting and harvesting of this crop has become quite a lucrative
endeavor for the locals as of late. For
me it was just enjoyable to watch, sitting on the shore with a beer at my feet,
as the locals would navigate the unmarked farms and begin collecting their
crops and laying them to dry, working well into the hours of darkness.
We spent our day touring the
island and its beaches with the aid of motorized scooters. Such vehicles are popular through the whole
of SE Asia and yet I had yet to captain my own until today. We each selected our own scooter but all were
automatic with a floorboard for your feet; really it couldn’t get much easier
to drive. It took only a few minutes for
me to curse myself for not having done this earlier. Why oh why had I tormented myself with my
obstinate fixation of using only a pedal bike.
These scooters were fantastic!
Nusa lembongan really doesn’t
have any cars, so the roads are [relatively] safe as you cruise around on semi
paved roads. Unlike the push bikes I had
been using, these scooters allowed us to visit every part of the island in one
day, even crossing a skinny yellow bridge to another island for a few
hours. It was there that I bore witness
to the bluest waters I have ever seen.
In a small cove on the opposite side there was water I never thought
could exist. Its blue was brilliant,
nearly impossible to describe, as if God himself had painted these waters,
leaving all other water just a little less impressive.
Friday September 2nd, 2011
It is morning here and I am
sitting on my patio, sipping some tea and listening to the sounds of those
around me. I am in the Ubud, Bali; a
relaxed town in the center of the island where one cannot help but fall into a
listless melancholy. Dustin and I are
staying at a place that has only two rooms, both of which are located at the
rear property of the owner. To enter you
must walk the short distance through his land, passing the houses of other
family members and his own. Our room
itself is by backpacker standards exquisite.
Recently constructed and coming with amenities like hot water and
matching sheets we have entered a world of bliss. I am writing this now as our proprietor
prepares our breakfast of fresh fruit and pancakes while I watch his children
play with toy trucks in the lawn. Inland
from the beach this town on the island of Bali has a certain quality to it that
is difficult to describe. Being in Ubud
feels like when I am looking at a painting of a log cabin during a snowy winter
with its chimney puffing smoke and you can just see the smiling faces of those
inside seated around a beautiful Christmas tree. It evokes that kind of feeling from you
despite still being in the throngs of equatorial heat. It has that sort of comfortable ambiance that
tends to occur when you are surrounded by those you love.
Yesterday upon our arrival to
this quaint city, Dustin, I and another rented bicycles to tour the surrounding
area. I was prepared to witness similar
views that had already beholden my eyes but I was once again taken by the
poignancy of what we encountered.
Thinking that all rice fields are created equal we were still amazed at
how utterly green, striking and just beautiful those were that we rode
beside. As always we stopped for photos
if not only to capture the vista but also to catch our breath as we rode
tirelessly farther from the town. And
like always we found ourselves lost and beginning to ask one another if he knew
when the sun would set. We gambled and
figured we were going in a big loop and should keep heading forward. Though we tried to confirm this with locals
multiple times, we never rode away from anyone certain that what they were
pointing at was the way back to town or them waving goodbye. Of course we made it back just before dusk
and immediately flopped down at the nearest watering hole for a round of
Bintangs.
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