Wednesday

Indonesia Part Three


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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