Day 12, Oct 21 - Departure Day
The next morning, the airport transportation for the first group didn’t arrive at 6:15 am like it was arranged with the agent’s drivers. This was the only problem on an otherwise near flawless trip. Fortunately, the cook and villa driver came and rescued them and got to the airport on time. Later, when Kimiko and I were to leave around 10:30, the drivers showed up – apparently, the 2 separate departure times were confusing and they just came to the second time provided. All was well in the end; Kimiko and I managed to visit the painting artist to photograph him, then send out a few postcards at the airport.
If we stayed much longer, it will no longer be that special place as we’d become too spoiled to adjust back to reality. We also had to awake from our dream. We came for all for some adventure and new experiences, and were satisfied beyond our imagination – and probably a few pounds heavier. We are all very grateful for this short visit to paradise and to all those nice, wonderful people we met!
The first wave leaves for Denpasar airport.
Farewell photo. We will miss the kind people the most.
Day 11, Oct. 20
We awoke to fresh smells after a summer-like rain. We all enjoyed another relaxing breakfast. Mr Julian, our booking agent, visited and asked us how things were going. We made plans with him for the airport transportation the next morning; everyone except Kimiko and I had to leave at 6:15 am to catch a 9:15 am flight. Kimiko and I had a later flight at 1pm.
We all were so impressed with the staff; they were not thought of as servants or staff anymore, but service professionals. We wanted to give the staff a nice tip, and avoid as many middle men handling the tip as possible, so we took up a collection of $20 USD each of the seven, and we presented it to Mr. Oka to distribute since he was the most senior staff member. Mr Oka in turn split the tip evenly among the active staff members – they were very grateful. Mr Oka commented it seemed like we were all family – this warmed our hearts to know he felt this way.
Today’s agenda was a trip to the fancy spa. The Maya Spa and resort was touted as one of
the most exclusive and exotic places to visit in
Cottages hug the jungle cliffs above a river at the Maya Spa outside Ubud, Bali
After our refreshments, we were called up each in couples
to our own immaculate private cliff-hanging bungalow, with river water and
falls below. Kimiko and I ordered a 60
minute deep tissue massage with 60 minute facials.
I figured I’d find out what all this fuss about facials was about,
cucumbers over the eyes and mud in your face.
I skipped the flower petal bath as it didn’t seem worth the money. Each 60 minute session came to $50 per
person, still below typical prices in US and
I did enjoy the experience, but the first ‘housecall’ massage after the bone-jarring boat ride from Gili Trawangan was the most satisfying for me, probably because I needed it and the price of $20 for 60 minutes made me feel even better.
Tranquil massage cottage at Maya Spa. Sounds of river waterfalls below.
Kaori had skipped the spa and instead went basket
shopping where she found some goods to take back to
We spent a few more hours shopping in downtown Ubud with Kaori, Tanya, and Alan. With some comparison shopping, Kimiko convinced me to get the abstract painting. I was able to get some price reduction, a cash-price on a credit card, and get it packed up nicely for airline baggage. They delivered the painting to the villa a bit later.
Tanya and Alan had left behind some items costing about
$1 at a store; they let Made know and she had a driver bring them from over 30
minutes away. I haven’t witnessed
something like this since I was in
We learned some more about life in
Our only dinner out in
Day 10, Oct-19
The four divers, Par/Elizabeth and Alan/Tanya departed
6am for an island 45 minutes off the southeast of
Kimiko and Kaori went shopping for Balinese baskets and paintings, then explored pottery studios. A famous type of pottery called “Jungala” caught their fancy enough to take up space and weight on the return luggage. Local baskets bought from the sister of Made came at half the market price. It turns out locals buy their goods down in Denspasar about an hour south for a fraction of the tourist cost, and resell them to their locals, still less than half the ‘tourist price’. Both Kimiko and Kairo capitalized and loaded their return luggage with these baskets.
Kimiko also found a Balinese abstract painting she loved
at a local artist studio; I took a quick trip out to inspect the finding. His prices were sky high western style, but
the work was fantastic. Never to buy on
the spot and suspicious of driver kickbacks, I left the shop to go out and
comparison price and research using the high tech tools of Google search. It turned out this artist was becoming rather
well known in the world of abstract art – he was recently commissioned by a
fancy hotel in
Abstract artist in Ubud, Bali. Excellent paintings were found in shops.
When the seven of us re-united at the villa later in the
evening, and for our last dinner at the villa, the chef had prepared another culinary bombshell: lobster thermador with crepes suzettes – it
went so well with our “imported” Sauternes.
We were finding it difficult to go out for dinner when the best was at
our service, and we had canceled all our evening meals outside the villa except
our last night. I was going to miss Mr. Oka's cooking. We were almost like a big family now, all of us.
Alan had his usually fun teasing Kaori, calling her a ‘princess’ of shopping, and Kaori telling him to shut up.
That evening, we started to make early plans to return, including seat selection on Singapore Airlines. I used my laptop from the study, and I also was keeping watch on the volcano in case it might somehow disrupt our return trip transportation flying over or near Java.
That night was restless with strong monsoon-like downpours. The rainy season of late October was approaching, indicating the end of the welcoming weather and signaling for us to return home.
Oct-18, Day 9
We were getting stuffed at breakfast. 2 eggs over easy, I ordered bacon and everyone followed. The last piece was fed to the eager black dog, Amoyia.
All of us, the “Seven in Heaven” made the cultural visits to local religious temples, and all had to wear Sarongs, or skirts. We enjoyed a friendly guide at our second temple. Each temple charged an entry fee, a parking fee, and each small area within each temple asked for donations, and then there were the bathroom fees. At the conclusion, we were dumped into a section of retailers with hawkers galore with cheap trinkets for sale. It was obvious to me temples were just like hawkers markets – they just wanted your money, except the temples were more beautiful.
Temple outside Ubud
Bathing in the temple's spring water brings good luck.
Just in case, I decided to wash my face in the temple waters to bring good luck. Some of us stood in line and took turns washing in the spring waters that originated from the temples grounds. I didn’t have any wishes of myself to request at this temple - I was just happy to be here. However, with all the distance I traveled to remote exotica, I wondered if I finally found the place that could lift the curse of “mediocracy” of the Chiefs since Superbowl IV in 1970.
Temple outside Ubud
All seven travelers wrap themselves in sarongs to visit the religous temple. The "Seven in Heaven".
We hit the shops that afternoon. During our ride around the west of Ubud, we
saw endless craft and woodcarving shops along the road. Men sitting on the floor carving wood logs
into sculptures leaving behind wood chips everywhere it seemed. It takes a month to carve a medium sized figure. So many nice things were for sale, it made me
dizzy – I had to block it out of my mind.
There is no shortage of skilled labor or supply of wood carvings.
Proud wood carving shop owner (right) in Ubud, Bali. Manual labor is everywhere to be seen.
The resident six-sigma blackbelt demsonstrates quality control.
We were in a more rural section, hugging a small creek canyon lined with heavy vegetation. We’d see the roadside used for many things including clothes just dropped into the tops of grass blades. The breeze of the passing cars and motorbikes helped to dry their clothing. The roadside ground was free and put to good use, including the occasional trash dump.
Streets in Ubud, Bali.
We speculated our hired drivers could be getting kickbacks. We
noticed tour buses of Japanese in one location.
I sported my Iranian nationality upon the price setting
introduction– it seemed to work. I hadn’t
shaved since I left, so things were in my favor as long as I said nothing. Many didn’t understand where
....and baskets at work in Ubud.
Tanya bought wood carved gifts for her nephews, along with a cache of batik cloth.
Kimiko and I witnessed another beautiful sunset and rested listening to electric harp music. Mr. Oka created another masterpiece dinner, including a starter of dill and cucumber cold soup served in cucumber halves; we asked for the recipe. This was followed by some of the tastiest and tender lamb shanks – this all capped another great day.
More photo's from this day below....
Day 8, Oct-17
The now-usual rooster crow came at 6:30 am, and he got very close to our bedroom. This was one of the few times I ever was ‘awoken into a dream’, especially by a rooster crow. It reminded me of someone who questioned that either we awoke from our dreams to reality, or the dream itself was reality and life was just a dream. I wasn’t too annoyed by the morning rooster, although requesting more chicken from the cook crossed my mind.
Kimiko used the exercise equipment in the room below Par/Elizabeth – both the treadmill and weight machine. The view into the valley field below provided some relaxing inspiration.
Breakfast was banana and pineapple pancakes. No syrup was needed, maybe a touch of butter, but heavenly tasting. The cook made wonderful porridge since 2 of the 7 guests were from Japan.
Worn out from yesterday’s 5 hours of driving and 2 dives, I decided to take it easy today. From the study room adjoining the poolside patio, I organized our photos, got photos copied from Tanya and Kaori, and got caught up on travel diary writing. I really liked this room since it was full of 12-foot high doors, windows, a bookcase loaded with novels,, and a rustic wooden table in the center of a stone floor with throw rug. I could enter and escape quickly out the back door up to my bedroom via an outdoor staircase made of smooth boulders. A daybed with fancy wood carvings provided a resting spot against the back wall that could make this the 5th bedroom. Walls were painted blue-green with teak wood window frames and ceiling planks. A painting hung on the side wall of a beautiful girl with a strong resemblance to my wife, Kimiko.
I think I'll make a copy of this study for my next home.
Elizabeth and Tanya took some dips in the pool, while Kimiko, Alan, and Par went to the spa for massage number two. It turned out not as good as the arrival massage. Maybe these were the trainees, and the professionals were doing house calls?
Cooking class started around 11am, and our chef graciously offered to teach the fish cake recipe and technique (made from tuna we learned), along with Nise Goreng – a rice, chicken, and spice dish.
Alan commented at lunch he tripped over one of the bedroom area carpets last night before bed, and decided to roll it up to prevent any tripping during the night. Leaving it rolled up during breakfast, the “invisible staff” came in, surveyed the situation and then removed ALL the carpets from the room.
Some members left for some art shopping in the afternoon. Par, Elizabeth, and I stayed behind to relax.
Evening cultural entertainment consisted of a Balinese style dance and story right in the center of the town of Ubud. The style of dance requires separate movements of fingers, hands, feet, neck, and eyeballs while keeping a consistent posture of the body. No blinking came from the dancer’s eyes during the performance. Music came from approximately 30 bell ringers, flutes, recorders, and gongs. The whole dance was a fabled story, complete with 4 kings, a lion, pirates, monkeys, and a menacing gorilla with banana to feed the lion. The dance interested Kimiko and Kaori into taking private lessons a few days later, and found it extraordinary difficult to even coordinate a basic step. Girls are taught very young to dance since it takes great skill and lengthy practice.
Dinner was another smash hit: pork with Asian spices, 2 bottles of homemade Rose’ and 1 Pinot Noir. We enjoyed feeding one of the servants dogs, Amoyia, some of the table scraps. Noisy gecko’s surprised us with sharp sounds (Ge’koooo’ Ge’ kooooo’) from the ceiling during the evening, along with the constant buzzing of cicadas high in the trees interrupted with the occasional splash of a large (I mean LARGE) goldfish in the courtyard pond.
Mathew's homemade Cabernet Franc Rose'. Perfect for Bali !
Alan eagerly made banana pancakes batter for the next morning before we all went to bed.
Now, those dancers stuck into our minds that night. Here's more photo's:
Bellringers behind the dancers. Sounds/looks a bit Tibetan.
The Lion enters. Note the "bells" in the foreground, like sugar bowls.
The Lion represents protection in the story.
The gorilla teases an audience member, or was he eyeing me?
The four kings. In Bali, it's four, not three kings.
Hand, feet, head, eyes, fingers, bodies move separately to their individual rythmn.
Looks more fun than aerobics.
Fingers, eyes move separately all with good posture. And no blinking!
....just beautiful to watch and hear the music!
I didn't understand the words, but I somehow knew the finale was nearing.
Day 7, Oct 16
We awoke for a 7am breakfast to the ubiquitous rooster
crowing. I could have slept until noon
as I was still exhausted, but we had to depart early for another diving session to northern Bali. During the night, flower blossoms were intentionally
sprinkled on the stone floors around the villa by the staff. After a nice bacon and egg breakfast prepared
by the staff, we left on a 2.5 hour van ride up the north coast of Bali. We got some good view of fields, villages, and
dogs – dogs were everywhere.
Unlike Lombok or the Gili’s which were Muslim, the Hindu’s on Bali prized their dogs almost like members of family and society. Most of these dogs were muts, but all had a common medium-size muscular body build, short legs, and pointy heads and ear. Each house usually owned 2 dogs, and their job consisted of guarding property. While one dog was on guard duty, the other would go about its business trotting alongside the roads like it had some agenda or appointment to make. They’d look both ways before crossing an intersection; it was almost like a dog lane next to the people cars and motor bikes, with the exception of women with baskets on their head walked alongside. Even dogs got carried on motor scooters, sat in the gas station attendants’ chairs, guarded businesses, and sometimes a dog lunch meeting was observed usually around a trashpile. If space aliens visited, they might have a hard time determine who runs the place.
When a strange person (like one of us) walked around in the neighborhood, the dogs almost like burglar alarms would give us the old “woof, woof, woof!” or an angry “Grrrrrrr, rrrrr, rrrrr” at each home we passed. They didn’t bark when familiar neighbors walked by.
Balinese dog off guard duty running errands; next stop is lunch.
The narrow roads could not accommodate 2 wide trucks passing, and the driver would pass everyone going slower by honking and crossing over to the oncoming lane and sometimes making the oncoming motor bikers move out of his way. Everything was transported on this road, so there were numerous slow trucks that had to be passed.
An interesting landmark appeared: a 30-foot long statue of an elephant outside a restaurant or store, and it was supported by a earth mound below. Either intentionally or not, the elephant seemed to be tired or exhausted and resting its weight on the earth mound below. It reminded me of how I felt last night before bed.
A landmark on the road to the Island's north side.
Passing numerous Hindu temples, we crossed through rice fields and terraces on the mountains, enjoying some spectacular views. Reaching the north side of the island, it was a desert with cactus and lacked the vegetation we saw on the south end near Ubud. The volcano stood majestic to our south, with several plumes of smoke about 1/3 the way up which we speculate were active vents. We crossed lava flows until we saw signs saying “Diving here” and “Hotel with Internet”.
I learned we were going to dive on a wrecked ship, the US
Liberty. It was hit by a torpedo in
World War 2 in January, 1942. It was
beached here until 1963 when the volcano erupted and the seismic movement
rolled the ship over and into slightly deeper water submerging it from 4 to 95
feet from the surface. It’s one of the
most accessible wrecks in the world, and perfect for divers and snorkeling. We walked 200 yards along a black volcanic
rock beach, lined with hawkers trying to sell the tourists T-shirts, kites, and
jewelry.
"Base Camp" at the Us Liberty Dive. Hawker (right) gets into the picture.
Good posture pays. Double tanking for the US Liberty Dive.
We had a snorkel guide who showed us the way to the wreck. We swam out maybe 2 minutes, and just like those Titanic images on the Discovery Channel, the outline of the ship appeared in the clear water. I was still surprised how close to the surface it was resting. I dove down twice and grabbed its encrusted hull.
With the top just 6 feet below the surface, the US Liberty is now a fish hotel.
A diver allows a cleaner shrimp to clean the inside of his mouth.
Our guide brought a muffin, which we originally thought was his snack, which he put it in a plastic bottle and fed the fish. The fish here were much larger than in Gili. It was like they were on growth hormone or steroids. The angel fish were the size of dinner plates. The black or grey fishes were about 2 feet long, 1 foot high, and 3 inches thick and swarmed around us. Their mouth could swallow any of my fingers. Our guide told us to never touch them, and never hold your fingers out – keep them in fists to avoid attack. It was a bit frightening to me with the large and newer mean-looking fish, so I put my hand safely in my pockets of my swimming shorts to take no chances. The current was very strong, and we spent maybe 90 minutes exploring the wreck from above and fish around, and then went in for lunch when I saw Par and the other divers ashore, their air tanks exhausted. As we waded ashore; we were again accosted by hawkers trying to sell us trinkets. What do we pay them? Buried treasure we found? Should we go back in and capture a fish? The thought crossed my mind they need to do something about this problem – give street vendors licenses and put them in one spot. I’m more likely to buy a souvenir and more likely to have cash once I dry off and get my things together. Indonesia is still developing, and will no doubt cross this bridge later.
Somewhere up top, the snorkelers skim the surface.
The second dive was away from the wreck, just off the restaurant. We saw what appeared to be a sunken airplane; I believe it was a reef cage of metal made to look like an airplane to attract tourists. In any case, this was a great last dive for us – endless fish, schools of hundreds of new and unusual fish, soft corrals waving in the ocean current with small fish making homes in almost every space. The guide picked up a starfish, let the girls hold it, then he put it down on the bottom upside down. We watched in fascination as it righted itself over in about 2 minutes.
Elizabeth, who stayed behind, greeted us with gimlets and gin and tonics. We watched the orange ball sun set over the valley. We listened to timeless jazz from Stan Getz, the sultry voice of Madeline Peyroux, and magical electric harp music of Hillary Stagg.
Dinner tonight was fantastic again, a bit too spicy for me – chicken, etc. We had the Ahlgren Semillon and Dai-Ginjo sake Kimiko brought from Japan. We retired to our usual outdoor poolside patio overlooking the valley. I fell asleep at 9 pm – each night, I was going to sleep earlier. Par and Alan stayed up later and listened to a distant Balinese music from the rice valleys below. In our bedrooms, we found fragrant cinnamon incense burning inside low-profile containers either under our beds or behind our dressers – again, put there by the invisible staff.
Day-6, Oct-15
We awoke to dawn at 5 am. Repacking was a chore of 90 minutes. At 7 am, the meeting time, Putoo our captain met us promptly. Unlike other islanders, Putoo seemed to have his act together when it came to tourists. He remembered all our names; he offered to carry things to and from the boat. He offered breakfast onboard, even from one of his crewmen. Today, we had 5 crewmen for 3 passengers. Either counting was an inherent problem here, or they had nothing else better to do and came along and observed the interaction with the 3 tourists. We learned more about Putoo on this second trip. He stayed up past 1 am and watched the Evander Hollyfield boxing fight from Moscow. I thought Hollyfield must have been too old to be a fighter. Putoo then said he got up at 6am, cleaned the house, did laundry, and got the boat ready for us. He was 36 years old, said he was happy with life, and said he rarely got upset or angry at anything anymore.
Wanting to economize my time and eat breakfast enroute, I ate one of the crewman’s breakfasts as it was offered by Putoo as an ‘extra’ (later, I found out he made this as a concession to be kind or was simply another counting problem). It was spicy chicken, with sweet beans, a few vegetables, peppers, and rice at the bottom. The meal was wrapped in paper, and I began to eat like a taco the rice and beans just with my mouth. Putoo gestured me to eat with my hand, I then made the mistake of easting with my left hand (not my right) and amused the crewmen. It was mildly spicy, but fulfilling.
5 crewmen for 3 passengers. They seemed to enjoy the experience.
We stopped at a different location on Gili Air today, the
5 crewmen and ladies departed for a breakfast on the island. Under the presence of the nearby Lombok
volcano, I snorkeled off the boat hoping to find the treasure of aquatic life
from yesterday. But, I just found giant
blue starfish and one nice spot of coral with fish teaming. I struggled with Par’s camera - he let me
graciously borrow it again. The
breakfast party took more than an hour on Gili Air, mostly by the concept of
‘island time’ – meaning no hurry by the servers, thus eating up precious time
as we had to get back by 10 am to settle charges, and load the boat for
Bali. We had time enough only for 15
minutes at our favorite location. I
decided to push it to 20 minutes since 15 seemed too short. Kimiko brought some bread slices from their
breakfast, so we used it to attract the fish – it really wasn't necessary.
Blue starfish off Gili Air
We had a great time snorkeling and playing
with the marine life, and the usually aggressive clownfish came up and almost
faced me off protecting his territory. I
used the camera to capture some, but literally the fish were blocking the
lens.
Fish tornado off Gili Air
Life off Gili Air. Clownfish on Patrol (lower right).
After 20 minutes, I got everyone out and we made a beeline for home base on Gili Trawangan and arrived at 10:05 am to make a 11 am departure on the larger boat. After all the hustle, it turned out the land phone lines were dead on the island and we could not settle and pay our charges by credit card, which amounted to $450 for 4 nights accommodation, breakfasts, and transportation to/from Bali. This alone would be only 1 night’s hotel room charge for oceanfront on Hawaii taxes not included. This was well worth it, extremely exotic, and fulfilling. Little did I know what lie ahead in Bali.
The crossing from the Gili’s to Bali was a rough one. We had 18 people onboard from different places and ages, the boat about 30-40 feet long had two 250 horsepower outboard motors. Kimiko and I found a spot near the bow, but were inside and covered. . Choppy whitecap waves hitting the bow gave those seated upstairs some spray. However, the problem was the constant jarring, like being on both a roller coaster and rodeo bull at the same time. Using GPS, I read the speed was about half the capable full speed. The captain was going slower to avoid too much discomfort. It felt like being inside a metal lunchbox that would be repeatedly slammed onto a table. After an hour of this, the chop changed to large swells of 8 feet, and it felt like the floor fell out on us each time we crested. Several times, we had to stop the motor and ride out a series of waves, the captain steering us as best he could through them. People got sick (not in our group fortunately). My arms had to stay next to my body as the slamming force kept them there. People could not walk, except during a few pauses in the waves. Par saw a shark fin on the surface and some dolphins. I also saw a shark fin, but decided not to say anything during the violent part of our journey as it was hard to even talk. On this 3 hour crossing, thoughts drifted to the seven of us getting tossed, and I wondered if we got shipwrecked, how we’d survive and who would be Gilligan.
The rough boat crossing to Bali makes walking difficult.
Once we got closer to Bali, the sea smoothed out and we were moving at full throttle. 2 hours, 45 minutes after departure, we arrive back at the same spot in Bali. The same small launch boat ferried people and luggage to the dock. Hawkers were again awaiting us, but were not nearly as aggressive since we were no longer ‘newcomers’ with our evident tans from the Gili’s.
We tried to settle our bill again with Manta, but here again the land phone lines were down. We were kindly welcomed by a French person who transported us to Ubud, about 45 minutes north of the small port. We did see the ubiquitous KFC and McDonalds in Bali. Harley Davidson rear window signs and stickers seemed to be coveted by many. As we got closer to Ubud, our destination, we started seeing some stone work that was amazing. Stores with statues carved from stone lined the streets; it was solid statues for 2 blocks at one location which seemed to be the obvious headquarters for statuary.
As we pulled off the ‘main road’ and got closer, the roads were full of potholes. Upon arrival at Villa Kirana, we were greeted by a friendly staff which numbered 10 and villa manager who showed us around. We were speechless; the photo’s in the travel magazine and website did this place no justice. Indoor and outdoor stones patios, decks, koi ponds, rock gardens, waterfalls, an infinity pool, stone walking paths and walls, accent lighting – all were impeccably arranged. Teaming with sculptures, carvings, and paintings, no detail had been overlooked. Even the doors were works of art.
Arrival at Villa Kirana
The bedrooms were all comfortable. Tanya/Alan got the room above the pool, Par/Elizabeth got the room overlooking the valley. Kimiko and I went for the room near the front door with marble outdoor bathroom and rock garden. Kaori got the room above us with the artwork.
I felt like I was living inside one of those fancy travel
destination magazines that sat on the front table – some had articles on this
very place. And this was just the beginning. The staff, which included the #2 staff
person, Made (pronounced Ma-day) were at our service constantly, even when we
did not know it. Lights were turned off
and on, beds turned down and we didn’t see anyone enter the rooms.
Bedroom overlooking valley
I started rumors of secret passages the staff used; it wasn’t too far off, the place was teaming with garden paths and walkways, so there was always an alternate path for the servants to use and stay out of sight. I later found these very paths useful myself to get around the villa quickly.
Relaxing after the boat crossing to Bali
As if this wasn’t decadent enough, a staff of 4 masseuses were awaiting us and each gave us an hour long massage by the pool or in the bedroom. Top quality house-call massages here put us back only $20 each. Particularly interesting was the added scalp massage and chest or breast massage, the later probably would have risked a lawsuit if it were in the US.
Staircase leading up to two other master suites.
Foyer inside Villa Kirana
The cook, Mr Oka, prepared a special Indonesian meal. Shrimp with red sauce, vegetables, and some type of fish cakes with spices were something where we demanded the recipe. We opened a bottle of Pinot Grigio and sparkling wine we brought. We ate up, and left little to remain, then discussed with the cook about the next day’s breakfast and dinner. We told him to serve a larger quantity of food since we were hungry westerners. We agreed on Balinese food the next night – the chef seemed to always have a very good sounding meal planned. We later pleasantly learned Mr. Oka’s skill in southeast Asian and western food made him rank as a top quality restaurant chef.
I was overwhelmed by the place, and had trouble processing all this “new information” and making sense out of it. On top of that, I had full day rising at 5 am , 2 snorkel dives, a total of 3 boat crossings - 2 in the morning to/from Gili Air, and the violent 3 hour crossing to Bali, then the impact of this luxury villa along with a full meal. I fell asleep in the chair at 10 pm relaxing with our friends. That night, I had one of those nights where I had a series of seemingly endless, long dreams – I almost felt 10 years older when I awoke.
Sunsets south of the equator - Bali, Indonesia
The doors were works of art in the Villa.
Day 5 – Oct 14
No mosque chants during the night I can remember, and morning was peacefully quiet with the now-usual roosters, goats, and birds, and the winds in the palms.
Today, the dive parties split up. The 4 scuba divers were going farther offshore, which was not good for snorkeling. The usual 10am departure time was moved up to the non-Ramadan holiday time departure of 9 am. The diving parties were not informed of this and still expected a 10 am departure. Fortunately, one of the dive operators named Rebeca found Kimiko and I just before 9 am, and we split up to quickly find the divers who were breakfasting nearby. They just made it out at 9:15 am.
Kimiko and Kaori found a charter from a gentleman by the name of Putoo. For $50 for the half day, his crew of 3 manned a glass bottomed boat for our use. We departed at 9:30 am. Putoo was skilled in using the sarong, or cloth, to keep the sun and water spray off his body. He said please come back again to our islands and visit, valuing our tourism. I made a note to myself that this native islander seemed to understand how the world works. Sometime during the expedition, I was offered marijuana again by the crew which I politely declined. I guess out here almost alone in the ocean off the Gili’s, there’s no police.
We snorkled off Gili Trawangan, then off Meno Wall to see
turtles, and then went onto Gili Air where we found a dreamworld of aquatic
landscape and life. Gili Air seemed less
traveled and the fish were very friendly – they would swim up to us to
investigate – and Kimiko found a blowfish hovering off the bottom coral. When I wiggled my finger, the fish seemed to
be attracted and swarmed around me like a tornado. I wish I had a camera as nobody would believe
me, but Kimiko was there and saw it all.
The fish tornado then left me and swarmed around her. I felt like a 6-year-old who made their first
trip to an amusement park.
Unfortunately, we had to get back to a lunch appointment I had made
previously on Gili Trawangan . So we had
to depart this treasure with only a 30 minute dive. I told myself “I’ll be back” – this was worth
flying 8,300 miles to see and experience.
On our short journey back, through some high waves and water splashes, I
started to think how to come back here.
Kimiko and Kaori all felt the same as I, and we started brainstorming
together. We decided we had time enough
in the morning for a final dive before the Mahi Mahi departed at 11 am for
Bali. This meant getting up at 5 am and
packing - a small price to pay I thought. I paid Putoo for the charter for the day,
tipped him an extra $5, then asked if he’d go out tomorrow. After he said he would, I then said early, 7
am and to only go to Gili Air, and he readily agreed.
We lunched to the Indonesian food, and were pleasantly surprised by the tasty vegetables in coconut milk curry sauce, the shrimps in a red sauce, and the spicy chicken.
In the evening, we had the usual gin and tonics off Alan/Tanya’s porch, and with just a few much less inspired mosque calls, then we all had fruit drinks then dinner at Scallywags. A crazed wealthy renown “bad boy” white man from Jakarta came up to Kaori while she was alone and made an extremely overt pass, asking her out loud in front of everyone to “join him” (we won’t say the word’s used here) on his double-hulled yacht anchored offshore. This was countered with a blunt rejection from Kaori. I had my Indonesian lobster for dinner – sweet and tender. Kimiko had a trout. The others had steak which was fabulous tasting and a good meal to cap off the Gili Island’s part of our voyage.