Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Nha Trang and Dalat, Vietnam

Nha Trang/Da Lat


I was sad to see Saigon go but eager to see what our next destination had in store for us.  For most of the trip, I’d been the one doing the planning, strategizing, and general selection of the locations we visited.  On the flight from Indonesia to Vietnam, Caleb had virtually read the Lonely Planet book on the country from cover to cover and had rattled off a ton of ideas for places to visit and things to do.  I decided to ride passenger for this country and I have to admit, so far, I couldn’t have been happier with the outcome!

Caleb and I had looked at the various ways to make the 350-mile journey to Nha Trang from Saigon and this time, we decided to take an 8-hour afternoon train to enjoy the scenery as we meandered north along the coast. There are numerous levels of comfort a train can offer depending on ones budget from hard, cramped bench seating without air conditioning all the way up to climate controlled private rooms with full beds and tables.   We paid the extra couple of bucks and opted for a nice sleeping cabin with four beds, two other unknown guests would surely be joining us.  We snagged a cab and made it to the train station with only minutes to spare, which is unfortunately becoming a trend as of late.  We hopped aboard and made our way to our designated room and were greeted by a couple of middle aged, Vietnamese men.  They took the lower bunks and we grabbed the upper ones, which made looking out the window nearly impossible.  Disappointed with the fact that I wouldn’t be enjoying the scenery much, Caleb and I deferred to some day drinking to make the event more entertaining.  The train ride gave me some much-needed time to catch up on the blog while Caleb watched a plethora of episodes of the Starz series “Spartacus”.  I attempted to mingle with the locals but they didn’t speak a lick of English, so instead, we ate a bunch of their food, which seemed for some reason to bring them enjoyment.



We arrived in Nha Trang around 9pm, grabbed a taxi, and made our way to our hotel.  Our accommodations were at a wonderful little hotel called Hein Mai. We each got our own queen-size bed in the 700 square foot room for under $10 each per night.  We got our act together, freshened up and made our way to the front desk to ask where the place to go would be.  We were directed to a bar not 100 yards away attached to a place called the Backpackers hotel.  I’d read about the place much to rave reviews but we had opted not to stay there as apparently the walls are paper-thin and the bar goes until 5am.  Ours was close and much nicer. 

I grabbed a couple of drinks from the bar and walked to the outside seating area where I quickly asked a group of 10 or so rowdy looking guys and girls if I could join.  It was quite the mix as these people were from Scandinavia, South America, and even a couple of American guys from Texas. We chit chatted, played games, and swapped stories till the wee hours of the morning before finally heading back to the hotel for some much needed sleep. 

I woke up early in the morning, excited to see what this city had to offer.  We had read that Nha Trang was an up and coming beachfront community, currently at a population of a little more than 100,000 but that it was expected to triple by the end of the decade.  After snagging a complimentary breakfast downstairs, Caleb and I made our way to the street, greeted by clear blue skies and 85-degree weather in search of a place that rented motorbikes.  We soon found one and after agreeing on a price, headed to the main road where we spent the next several hours cruising the beachfront and enjoying some back roads.  At one point we headed North out of the city and away from the tourists through some incredible mountain highways and small fishing villages.  The beautifully constructed highways seemed to have been created just for us, as there was NO ONE in sight, simply spectacular!





Caleb chasing the cow!





We began to head back towards town around 4:30 and I decided to pull off the main road near a river community to try and find some food.   As we drove past a slew of restaurants, staff members would come out into the street to try and win our business.  We settled on a 3-story restaurant in the middle of town in order to take advantage of the open-air views from the top floor.  Once in, a guy directed us to these giant saltwater pools where to our surprise contained a plethora of live seafood from over 13 species of shrimp, numerous types of fish, gooey duck, shark, clams, you name it.  We settled on a pound of shrimp and a half pound of gooey duck as we watched our guy bare hand them and shove them into an iron cage.  Soon, he threw the live shrimp in the cage right onto a hot BBQ and the gooey duck into a steamer.  From the time these creatures were swimming freely with pleasure in their posh artificial environment to the time they were in my stomach was no more than 10 minutes!  Soooooo good!


After dinner, we headed back to our hotel to shower and get ready for the evening.  Before we headed out for drinks, Caleb and I decided to try and find a motorcycle rental place that rented larger, more cruiser style motorcycles as the majority of the ones you find are simple, 100cc scooters.  We found a company called Easy Riders that we’d heard great things about in the past and decided to stop in.  After speaking with the receptionist, we learned that while the most powerful bikes were already spoken for, there were some smaller 250cc ones that were available.  We decided to book them for the following morning for a day ride to the city of Da Lat, a 6,000-foot climb in elevation and a 100-mile journey to the Vietnam Highlands.  From other travelers we’d met in recent weeks, this ride was supposed to be nothing short of incredible. 

With our plans set, we moseyed our way on down to a local hotspot and soon found a table of two girls to mingle with.  Randomly, after introducing ourselves to Jessica and Shoshana, we learned that they were also fellow Americans and from Chicago!  Both girls had also been traveling for several months and it seemed like they’d been to the countries that we were about to head to next.  We exchanged stories over the next few hours as we indulged in a fair amount of locally brewed beer and spirits.  Towards the end of the night, we asked what the girls were doing the next day.  They told us they’d booked a trip on a booze cruise and were headed out in the early morning for the all day adventure.  We explained to them about the motorcycle ride we were about to embark on to Da Lat and they said that they’d heard so many wonderful things about the city but were bummed thinking they wouldn’t have time to get there.  I looked at Caleb and we both nodded in agreement before I said “Cancel your trip tomorrow and head out with us for the day on the back of the bikes!”  The girls were thrilled, asked if we were sure it was ok and quickly scurried back to their hotel to cancel their previous engagement.  After a few more celebratory cocktails in anticipation of the adventure to follow, the four of us headed to bed for a good nights rest before the next morning began.

Caleb and I went to snag the bikes at 9am sharp before picking up the girls up.  When we arrived at the motorcycle shop, two similar looking bikes were sitting out front waiting for us.  One was nice and shiny and the other had bits of rust, some scratches, and generally looked in subpar condition.  I was taught as young boy to never judge a book by its cover.  After getting the key from the receptionist, I took a few minutes to introduce myself to the rustier looking motorcycle I soon learned went by the name of Helen.  I had seen women like Helen before.  She was middle aged, late 40’s, maybe early 50’s and from the way she first looked at me, I could tell she wasn’t a big fan of men.  Many had come into her life only to leave, she was bitter, she had been mistreated, and I foolishly assumed through my youthful charm I could bring her to change her mind, that I wasn’t like all the others that had come before me.  I was different and I’d allow her to have fun once again.   I started her up and headed down the road to get her some fuel, she was thirsty.  Sitting at the gas station, the attendant began filling up the 3-gallon fuel tank and instantly began pointing and yelling underneath the bike.  I looked down to find fuel pouring out of the carburetor just as fast as it was coming in.  Helen looked at me with that big headlight as if to say “I’m the boss, b$*#h”.



I pushed Helen over to a mechanic who happened to be across the street and within minutes, he fixed the problem, a lose fuel hose and assured me I’d be all right for my trip.  I filled up the tank once more and headed out of town.  5 miles into to the drive, I lost second gear, Helen was not pleased with me.  I pulled over, got off her and had a chat.  I said “Listen, I understand you’ve had a rough life and I’m probably not what you want to see, if you don’t want to be nice to me, fine, I get it, but don’t take it out on poor Jessica on the back seat, she’s a girl just like you, I’ll prove to you I’m different over time, just help us get to where were going, please”.  After a few moments of silence, Helen agreed!

The sun was shining, the temperature was perfect and with nothing but a T-shirt and shorts on, the wind felt incredible blowing through our hair.  Along the 100-mile journey we meandered on beautiful, lightly trafficked highways through endless rice fields, mountainous regions and lush jungles.  He stopped at many places along the way in villages, incredible waterfalls and took countless awe-inspiring photographs.  It was hands down one of the greatest rides of my entire life and the girls were spectacular passengers.  

We found the mini golden gate bridge!


Close call!!


Rice Fields!!
Standing on the edge of a magnificent waterfall, absolutely stunning!

Prior to beginning the trip, I had assumed it would take us maybe 3 hours to get to Da Lat where we’d maybe spend 3 or so hours in the city before the ride back prior to dusk.  As we got closer to the destination, we realized that just wasn’t going to be the case.  The original 3-hour idea soon became 7-hours and we realized there was no way we were going to be able to make it home before sunset.  After a quick chat with the girls, we unanimously agreed to find a hotel for the evening and leave the next afternoon, allowing us time to see the city.  We arrived into Da Lat and I pulled in front of nice looking restaurant in order to pull up Wi-Fi on my cell phone to check Trip Advisor.  I found directions to the highest ranked hotel on the website and a soon navigated my way to the front door.  I walked inside the Dreams hotel and told them I wanted the best room for 4 people available.  They brought us up to our room, which was incredible.  High ceilings, beautiful beds and a balcony overlooking the city all at the absurd price of $30. 

After settling in, the four of us went out for a nice dinner before hitting up a bar that the locals claimed was the hottest spot in town.  We rolled in and the place was empty but the bartender/owner coerced us to stay.  We enjoyed a copious amount of drinks while playing pool and watching Caleb play Connect Four with the owner wagering $10 per game.  He lost every single time, terrible for him, wonderful for me to watch!  We moved from the bar after a few hours and had the great idea to go to a Karaoke bar.  Finding one is easy, finding one that’s not actually a front for a brothel proves much more difficult.  The four of us finally found a spot that looked as legitimate as we were probably going to get and told the front desk we wanted to go sing.  Confused as to why we wanted to do this and not actually purchase prostitutes, the girls and us were lead reluctantly to a private room.  They had a giant flat screen with a computer hooked up to it as well as two wireless microphones.  The next few hours were spent sharing a bottle of vodka we’d ordered and singing our hearts out to such classics as “I Will Always Love You” by the late Whitney Houston and “All The Leaves Are Brown” by the Mammas and the Pappas.  We finished off the evening with some Ban Mi’s (Vietnamese sandwiches with meat) and a hand full of boiled quail eggs before heading back to our hotel for a well-deserved nights sleep.

The next morning we woke up to the sound of rain hitting the rooftop.  While Caleb and I took showers, the girls headed out to buy ponchos for all of us in anticipation for the wet ride back.  After having breakfast at the hotel with some amazing South American girls and listening to their travel stories, Jessica, Shoshana, Caleb and I loaded up on the bikes and headed out of town.  On the way out, we hit up a place called Crazy House which was said to be a must visit location while in Da Lat.  The house had been designed by a Russian architect and continuously constructed since 1990 with work still in progress.  You can't really get picture of the entire place, check it some pictures online.  



After wandering around for more than an hour and literally watching Caleb take over 200 photographs, the four of us hit the road once again.  We stopped briefly at a flower garden before finally making the journey back to Nha Trang. 

Once back in Nha Trang after the three-hour ride, we said our goodbyes to the girls and headed to our hotel for some much needed relaxation.  The rest of the day was spent lounging around watching TV before meeting up with the girls for a late night dinner at a nice restaurant where we indulged in a variety of Ostrich and Crocodile dishes.  Delicious!!  We decided to call it early that night as Caleb and I were exhausted from the two-day trek, falling asleep before 10:00 PM.

We slept in the next morning and went out and had a small breakfast before visiting another motorcycle shop to rent some bikes for the day.  Caleb had heard of a beach roughly an hour North that was supposed to be spectacular.  Barefoot and nothing but some board shorts on, we headed down the highway soaking up the sun along the coast on the motorbikes.  We arrived in a little over an hour to a small village where we somehow managed to find our way to the secluded beach with only one seemingly deserted resort.  Upon stepping our feet in the sand, we couldn’t believe the sight before us.  The beach was at least 5-7 miles in length, 30 yards wide, and sand so soft, white and fine it looked as if it were made from flour.  The water was as blue as one could possibly imagine and in both our opinions, light years ahead of the beaches and waters of the famed Phi Phi islands of Thailand.  The temperature was warmer than bath water as Caleb and I spent more than an hour just drifting on our backs with the current.


On the entire beach, there were only two other people, literally.  After playing in the water, we made our way to some lounge chairs where we spent time researching the countries of Lao and Cambodia in our guidebooks, as they were the next countries we were going to enter.  At one point, one of the other two people on the beach whom we’d assumed were on their honeymoon came over to say hello.  Oddly enough, they turned out to be fellow Americans and we soon brought our chairs together to get a chance to know one another.  Aman and Angela were from New York, recently engaged and four months into their yearlong journey to every continent on Earth.  Their story was absolutely incredible.  Aman, had recently quit a long and successful career in banking with the firm JP Morgan before proposing to his now fiancée, Angela and asking her to travel the world with him.  Angela said yes and quit her career as a white-collar criminal defense attorney at a top Manhattan law firm to join.  We chatted for more than an hour before parting ways and agreeing to meet up at a nice spot back in Nha Trang for drinks at 8:00 PM.

Caleb and I made it back in time to take a quit nap and get ready for our engagement with our newly made friends.  We’d already purchased tickets for a night train to the city of Danang, 13 hours North along coast that left at 10:00 PM.  We got checked out of the hotel before meeting Aman and Angela at a lovely upscale beachside restaurant.  We spent the next hour and half conversing with them and hearing more about their backgrounds while sipping some freshly made mojitos.  We discovered that they were also heading to the next city we were staying and exchanged emails to ensure another meeting in the coming days.  They were an extreme pleasure to get to know and the story of their journey is absolutely incredible.  They actually have their own website where their blog is posted at www.wanderlustasap.com, it’s amazing.

Our time in Nha Trang was phenomenal due in part to our low expectations that were completely blow out of the water and the both remarkable places we saw and people we met.  100% a MUST, MUST see if visiting Vietnam!  Now off to the train!








Sunday, March 18, 2012

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam



Caleb and I couldn’t have been happier to see a small Vietnamese man holding a sign with our names on it as we walked off the tarmac at Ho Chi Minh Airport in Southern Vietnam.  We followed the gentlemen to a customs booth where he asked for our passports, skipped the long line of tourists and handed them to an immigration officer.  A few minutes later and our passports were stamped and we were free to enter the country.

As we were walking out of the airport, I heard a guy yell my name.  I turned around to find Jim, a 26 year old guy from Boston whom I’d met several weeks prior at a rooftop bar at our hotel in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.  Apparently we’d been on the same plane from Jakarta as well.  Crazy!  Jim asked us if we knew where we were staying for the evening and I told him we had no idea, other than the fact we wanted to stay in District 1 of the city, due to the guidebooks saying it was the hotspot for backpackers.  He said he’d already reserved a hotel room at a highly rated place in that same district for cheap and invited us to split a taxi and see if they had extra rooms.  A 20-minute, $3 taxi ride later, we arrived at the Saigon Mini Hotel.  While the city is shown on every map as Ho Chi Minh, the locals still call it Saigon (it’s former name).  We were fortunate that they had a room with two beds available and booked it for 3-nights.  We settled into our room, got changed and met Jim downstairs to head out for some food and drinks for the evening, as it was almost 9:00 PM. 

We walked down a main street before settling on a little roadside restaurant with outside seating.   A simple plate of chicken and rice could be had for a little over $1 and the local beer, BGI, costs less than 40 cents for a 20 ounce bottle and it was absolutely delicious!  I was in heaven!  We sat there and ate our food and hydrated with our drinks all the while fending off the relentless offer of street peddlers.

One thing that I’ve noticed throughout our travels is the constant pestering from people peddling merchandise.  Each country does this at a different level.  Some of the tourist areas in Thailand are pretty thick, Malaysia wasn’t bad at all, most places, it was non-existent.  I’m sure in Singapore, it’s probably an offense punishable by caning or death.  From cigarettes, bracelets, food, CD’s, DVD’s, and every kind of drug imaginable, the peddlers try to sell you absolutely everything.  I’m sure being American attracts more attention than average but it can really become an annoyance.  The most annoying of all however are “women of the night”.   Vietnam has been the worst.  It is EVERYWHERE.  It’s very common for someone to walk by with a fruit cart and say “You buy fruit”, I reply “No, thanks”.  Then the next thing out of their mouth is “You want woman and cocaine?”  It’s like, good God, how is that effective.  “You know I really wanted a Kiwi but since you don’t have it, I’ll take $300 of illicit drugs and 2 chicks”.  Everything comes with an offer of drugs and women.  You catch a ride on a moped, they ask you if you want drugs and women.   You buy a pack of cigarettes, they tell you if you buy one more, it comes with a woman (not really but it seems that way).  It’s an extremely unfortunate circumstance for these people and even though you couldn’t deny that this exists in the US, at least it’s not shoved down your throat while your trying to eat lunch.

We soon meandered another few blocks till we heard some loud music coming from a rooftop bar three stories above our heads.  Jim, Caleb, and I headed into the bar and to our surprise, it was filled with nothing but white people.  We grabbed a few beers and started mingling with the bar crowd.  We soon discovered that the group of 30 or so people were all in Saigon teaching English.  Apparently it was a big going away party for one of the guys that taught with them as he was heading back to the states after more than 2 years teaching abroad.  I mingled with a group of girls who were from Ireland and England and asked them what the must see places in Saigon were.  They told me I had to go to the War Relics Museum, it was the number one must see tourist attraction.  I ended the evening short leaving Caleb to fend for himself with the lovely foreign ladies.

I awoke the following morning, eager to explore the city we had heard so much about.  I forced Caleb to wake from his Ambien induced coma and we met up with Jim once again to go about our day.  Our first stop was the War Relics Museum.  Originally, it was called The American War Crimes Museum prior to Bill Clinton re-establishing relations with the country in the 1990’s.  It was a four-story building that enabled you to relive the tragic events of the American involvement in the Vietnam War.   The War Relics Museum painted America in a similar light as the Nazi involvement in the Holocaust.  The images depicted victims burned by the use of napalm as well as the more disturbing photos of the effects of the horrific results of our use of the chemical “Agent Orange”.  The museum, although I kept in mind it was bias, was very difficult to tour.  At one point, while looking at photographs of deformed children born from individuals present during the chemical warfare, I stood holding back my emotions as two Vietnamese women my age wept at the same sight I was staring at.  It was a stark reminder of the devastating tragedies that war brings and I soon had to step outside.

I met up with Caleb and Jim to make the trek to a famous market as well as The Reunification Palace and Notre Dame Cathedral.  Soon we headed back to our hotel where we took a nap (my favorite activity), got showered (again, separately), and readied ourselves for the evening.  We met Jim at a street side bar that served beers costing less than 25 cents!!!.  While I was filling my belly with booze for the cost of a US stamp, I heard a live band across the street playing incredible classics.  At this stage in the evening, I was at a level that required hearing music played by the greatest band in the history of music, The Eagles of course.  I had run out of cash so I forced The Bank of Caleb to sprint down the street and withdraw $1,000,000 Dong, an equivalent of $50 US for me.  I needed the money for bribing.  I have an affliction, a disease some might call it.  When there is a live performance going on, I have a compulsive need to stop at no cost to make them play some of my favorite Eagles tracks.  We scurried over to the bar, sat and listened while they played such incredible cuts as Cocaine, and Layla by Eric Clapton, Stairway to Heaven by Led Zepplin, Old Time Rock and Roll by Bob Seger, and Walk This Way by Aerosmith.  Absolutely incredible.

I approached the lead singer of the band and explained I wanted to hear the Eagles songs Hotel California, New York Minute, Desperado, and Life in the Fast Lane at any price his heart desired.  He told me $50,000, or less than $3 US and he’d play all of them!!  I paid him double and the next 15 minutes made up some of the most precious minutes of my life.

Shortly after witnessing the musical performance of a lifetime, Caleb hit a brick wall.  The exhaustion plus the inability to drink beer and only hard drinks took a toll on my Asian-American friend.  He requested that Jim and I excuse his presence as he wished to depart to his bed back at the hotel.  I agreed, thus allowing him to leave and Jim and I headed out to the street in search of the next great bar adventure. 

Jim and I meandered to the street and found a couple of Vietnamese moped drivers willing to take us anywhere our hearts desired.  I asked them where the biggest, most ostentatious bar in the 9 million person populated city of Saigon was.  They told me they knew just the place.  We jumped on the back of there mopeds, twisting and turning through the thick traffic along our 15-minute route to the bar called Two Thirteen.  We walked up the steps to the entryway and were greeted by a stiff cover and unfriendly looking bouncers.  I stepped into the bar and was welcomed by an absolutely packed house of more than 500 people.  I looked at Jim and told him my plan.  I wanted to seek out the wealthiest looking foreigner, introduce myself, and hang out for the rest of the night, as I was confident they’d enjoy an American counterpart at their table.  Minutes later I made friends with a Russian named Roman Petrovich, and mid thirties gentleman that owned a slew of metal factories in Vietnam.  The table he had ordered was filled with four 1-litre bottles of Belvedere Vodka as well as a giant 6-litre bottle of Grey Goose surrounded by a swath of women from various backgrounds all vying for a piece of the man’s fortune.  He took me under his wing like I was a trophy and insisted that I drink on his dime to my hearts content.  I obliged, not wanting to be rude of course.

The minutes turned to hours as I danced away with Roman and his group of gold digging friends before I reached a pinnacle and decided to head home for the evening.  I finally reached home at 4 AM and was eagerly awaiting my bed when I opened the door.  What came next was a surprise I could’ve never imagined in my wildest dreams.

I cracked the door to room 301 at the Saigon Mini Hotel to a loud SURPRISE!!!  Startled, I got my wits about me and focused in on the spectacle before me.  TWENTY-FIVE of my closest friends had flown in from the US to surprise me for St. Patrick’s Day!!!!  I couldn’t believe it.  All these people coordinated for a halfway around the world trip!  There is no way I’d have ever known this would’ve happened!!  Take a look at the pictures below!!!




Liz Zammit flew in from LA and Bissel came all the way from Namibia, Africa to be here!!!  Liz is giving Bissell the old stink eye!


Right as I walked in the door, Jeff was standing guard at the bathroom entrance.  I wasn't quite sure what the hell he was doing?!?!?!? 

I discovered Jonica and Josh inside looked sexy as always, both using my mirror to make sure they looked 100%!!!


I wasn't at all surprised to see Matt and Kevin sitting in the bathtub together!!!  Not sure what the sunscreen was all about!!!


Kevin's girlfriend Amanda pretending to not be upset over what she saw taking place!!


Teetu Meeta manning door duty tonight.  She was all set with a couple of Tiger beers, what a lush!!!


Couldn't believe Bryan and Jen made it out and even little Caleb managed to snag a flight!!!


Justin "Dragon"  Smith made his presence known with that incredible beard!!  Kate looked less than pleased!!!


T-Money looking for some hydration and even Justin Challain made the journey over!  Couldn't believe he put his lip ring back in for the occasion!!!


Ackerman was trying to get the group to do an 80's ski night, Monica was having none of it!!!  So great to see them both!!!


A beer for Tripp and a water for Danna, baby Grant can't have drinks yet!  Danna looking jealous as she clearly wants to partake in the festivities!!


Ryan "Baked Beans" Mcmeans droppin' the creep look as Julian and I enjoy the company of one Miss Katie Bookey Roberts (Ya, I said it) !!!


The night couldn't have possibly been complete without shots with Courtney and Emelie!!

After a long night of partying with friends, the 27 of us finally hit the hay in an overcrowded hotel room.  I honestly can’t wait for the next couple weeks to see what kind of shenanigans this group and I get into!

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Ridin’ the lucky train out of Indonesia





When Caleb and I purchased substantial sums worth of money in paintings, the guy at the front counter said because we spent so much, we’d now have good Karma.  I laughed off the comedic gesture and went on my way.  Now knowing what’s happened in the last 36 hours, I’m lucky I blew as much as I did….

To get it out of the way nothing regarding our safety happened so take a sigh of relief (especially you Justin as I know the thought of unjust harm to me keeps you up at night)

Caleb and I headed to the airport on Wednesday, March 14th.  I had checked Lion Air, a common discount airline in this part of the world, the night before to see what flights we could catch.  According to the site, there was availability on a 6:00 AM flight but as I’ve discovered with many airlines, you can’t book online within 48 hours of departure time.  We took our chances and had a cab waiting for us at 4:30 AM in front of our hotel in Bali.  We arrived at the airport and went to the gate.  It was 5:20 when I spoke with the agent at the desk and to our luck, we were able to purchase a ticket to Jogjakarta, roughly a 15-hour bus ride away (we checked) for $456,000 Rupiah or about $50 US.  The flight lasted 45 minutes and saved nearly a day on what the guidebooks call “buses that will re-arrange your organs”.  Caleb had been the one who had read about Jogjakarta and had told me about the world’s largest Buddhist temple, Borobudur.  Apparently, it had been one of the Seven Wonders of the World until some discovery in China back in the 70’s bumped it off the list.

We arrived in Jogjakarta, exited the plane and walked to the first tourist counter within 100 steps of the tarmac.  We told them we wanted to see Borobudur as well as another place called Prambanan.  The place offered us a private driver and a new leather and air-conditioned SUV to get us to both locations.  After some negotiating we got the deal for a total of $35 US.  I really don’t know how they can make a profit, even with gas being $1.50 US a gallon.  It took the driver a little over an hour to drive through the countryside to our first stop at Borobudur.  Upon entering the compound, we had to each pay around $12 for an entry fee then opted to have an English speaking guide take us on the 2 hour tour of the area.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borobudur

The compound was believed to be constructed in the 9th century as a shrine to Buddha.  It was used for nearly 500 years before being abandoned following the decline of Hinduism and Buddhism in Indonesia as many were converting to Islam.  Not until 1814, when the then British ruler of Java (the province Borobudur is in) rediscovered it after hearing about it from locals.  The site was completely overgrown with jungle and in terrible condition after 400 years of neglect.  A massive 7-year restoration project took place in in 1975 by UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) funded in part by the Rockefellers of all people.



Everyone had to wear these Sarongs for respect purposes.  Thought I looked great!



Towards the end of the tour, we had a lengthy walk back to the park exit which gave us a chance to speak with our guide, Mr. Shupa.  He had been working as a tour guide since 1986.  Normally, he worked 6AM-6PM, 7 days a week to support his family.  For our tour, he’d pocket the equivalent of $6 US.  He asked us where we were from and when we told him Seattle, he asked if we worked for Boeing or Microsoft, as those were the only two companies that existed there.  We explained what we did, or rather what we had done, and he asked if we had kids.  After we told him I asked how many he had.  He said six, his eldest finishing her Doctorate in Pharmacy, another one in her second year studying physics at a university and all the way down to his youngest at just under two years of age.  I asked him if he wanted more to which he replied, “I sure hope not”.  When we parted ways, Caleb and I gave him twice what he had asked for on the tour for a tip.  He explained everything well and was a joy to speak with.





There are 30 people employed working all year round scraping the moss off the stones by hand!
Some locals wanted a photo with the tall white guy.  Caleb insists it's because of my stunning looks....







We met back with our driver and had him make another hour journey to the next place called Prambanan.  Prambanan is the largest Hindu temple in Indonesia and one of the largest in the world.  Built around the 9th century, it originally featured 240 buildings similar to the ones seen below just varying in size.  An earthquake in the year 1006 destroyed many of them as they are constructed from hand carved, interlocked lava rock stones.  Another earthquake exactly 1,000 years later in 2006 destroyed many more buildings, 18 still stand.  









Scale model of what the complex originally looked like.  Each side of the perimeter nearly a 1/4 mile in length

We once again hired a private tour guide but this time, I could understand about half of what he said although the compound was amazing enough so it didn’t bother us very much.  We finished the tour and returned back to the airport to see if luck would be in our favor again trying to get to our next place, Jakarta. 

Back at the Lion Air counter, I chatted up the agent and found there was still room on a flight bound for Jakarta leaving in an hour.  I could either A) take a crappy bus for 9 hours for less than $10 or B) buy the available ticket and take the 40-minute flight for only $35.  We chose the obvious and I still can’t figure out how its feasible, these planes are all large Boeing jets. 

We arrived in Jakarta an hour later and hopped on a free shuttle to the International Terminal served by Air Asia as we were trying to press our luck yet again to get to Malaysian Borneo that night.   Our luck ran a little short as we discovered they only flew out every other day after speaking with the agent.  Caleb and I headed up to a Starbucks, snagged the Wi-Fi and started doing research on different airlines that could get us there.  The ones that could were absurdly priced, and had layovers that would make the 3-hour flight last 20 hours.  After a bit more checking, I came up with another option.  There was a flight leaving the follow afternoon headed for Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.  We eventually wanted to get up in that area as we planned on spending a solid 5 weeks going through Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, and Northern Thailand however we hadn’t thought about it so soon. 

We made the call to move Borneo to the last part of the trip and booked a flight for the following day, Thursday the 15th, for Vietnam.  A quick bit a research on Hotels.com and Trip Advisor landed us a 4-star hotel about 15 miles away for less than $90 US.  We snagged a cab for cheap and had him take us to our destination.  When researching about Jakarta, no place we’d read had made it seem like a place you wanted to stay for very long, even though it’s the largest city in Indonesia at over 9 million people.  It’s a vast, polluted, dirty, concrete metropolis that Barack Obama once called home for several years during his youth.

View the room at our hotel over Jakarta.

When we arrived out our hotel and were more than pleased aside from the unnerving fact that we had to walk through metal detectors at the entrance and be patted down by security guards.  We checked into the room that featured two queen beds on the 20th floor overlooking the city.  It was nice to finally have some elbowroom, clean floors, and a shower that did more than spit on you.  By the time we got settled in, it was almost 9:00 PM local time and we headed down to one of the hotel’s restaurants to have a nice dinner.  We thought about going out but by the time we finished eating, we both were pretty exhausted and crawled into bed (separate ones!) around 11:30.  I woke up early Thursday morning and started writing the Bali blog before enjoying a Skype date to catch up with my good friend Emelie from Lake Tahoe.

Caleb rolled out of bed around 10 AM and FaceTime’d his parents to let them know he was still alive.  Our flight left at 4:30 PM so we knew we should probably get a cab around 2:30 from our hotel.  Here’s where the Karma from the paintings REALLY kicks in.

At around 1:30, I asked Caleb to look up the process for getting travel Visa’s once we got to Vietnam while I finished my blog.  I had heard through multiple sources that it’s one of the few places where the process can be a real pain in the ass.  After about ten minutes he started reading out loud from a travel site saying, “You are required to have a travel visa prior to entering Vietnam”.  I dismissed it thinking, naaah, that can’t be right.  He grabbed the number for the Vietnam Embassy in Jakarta and tried to have the front desk connect us to no avail.  He then called our airline, Air Asia, to see what they knew.  The concern in his voice grew more noticeable as the conversation with the phone agent carried on.  He hung up the phone and said “Well, we’re F*#&@’d!!!”  Not only did we need a travel visa in order to even check in for the flight, it took typically 2-3 business days to get a visa approved!!!  To make the situation EVEN more thrilling, Air Asia had a 48 cancellation policy so the $250 US a piece airline tickets would now be a complete loss.  Fantastic, I love shoveling away cash!

The time was now 2:00 PM.  We were calculating the worst.  Loss of our flight money, price to book a new flight two days later at a 50% higher rate, staying two more nights at the hotel, this one was going to sting.  Caleb google’d instant visas and found a plethora of sites claiming they’d do it faster for extra money such as “Express Visa”, “Quick Turnaround Tourist Visa”, blah blah blah.  None could do them faster than 24 hours.  Just as the moment arose as I finished hanging the noose from the closet rod, stool tipping to the side, Caleb shouted “Super Urgent Visa!!!” 

He rattled off the site name and I typed it in.  The site looked partially legitimate and claimed they’d get us cleared for customs in 30 minutes what’d normally take the embassy 3 days.  The price was 20-fold what it’d normally cost and it was a risk.  We decided to go for it.  The time was now 2:30 and if we were to make it, we needed to leave for the airport in less than 10 minutes.  Caleb grabbed his bag and made a beeline for the lobby to check out and grab a cab while I input all our passport info and credit card info to book it.  I hit the purchase button and closed the laptop as the room phone was ringing from the lobby with Caleb yelling that we had to go!  

We jumped in the cab and told the guy to go as fast as he could.  I had no idea if it’d work and prayed that there was an email in my inbox when I got Wi-Fi on my phone at the airport.  We hit traffic, making us even more crunched for time.  This cab wasn’t pre-negotiated and we only had $156,000 Rupiah left in cash and the cab’s don’t take visa.  Nervously, we watched as we got closer and the meter inched towards our maximum limit.  We pulled in front of the airport at 3:46 PM, 59 minutes before our scheduled flight as the meter stopped at $154,500.  Relieved we handed the driver the money and he said we owed him $170,000 total because of a terminal fee.  After a short angered conversation, we left the guy shortchanged, speeding off out of the airport.

We ran to the agent desk outside, connected to Wi-Fi and much to my utter amazement, the visa documents were in PDF format in my email on my phone. I told the gal we needed to print them out and she said we had to go inside to check in first.  She said we had to hurry because it was now 3:54 and check in closed at 4:00 sharp, 45 minutes before the international flight departed.  We ran to the entryway only to have the wind taken out of sails due to the lengthy line going through security.  At this airport there was a security check at both the entrance to the terminal and the entrance to the departure gate.  Caleb and I had no choice but to piss off 100 people and cut to the front of the line while ignoring all the yelling and calls for blood.  We made it inside, through security with 4 minutes to spare before check-in.  An Air Asia agent could see the panicked look on our faces and came running over to offer his assistance.  We told him what was going on and he quickly ran me to a back office where I could use the computer to print off the necessary visa documents required for him to check us onto the flight.  The internet was incredibly slow and we were coming down to the deadline.   At 3:59 he radioed to the guy at the ticket counter with Caleb to check us in as he looked at me and said “You better have that visa or else we’ll get fined $5,000 US per person by the Vietnamese!”  I assured him we did and he took our word for it (I’ve got his email and am 100% going to write a letter praising him to the highest executive I can reach, OUTSTANDING customer service).   

We grabbed our boarding passes and sprinted to the terminal where we still had to clear Indonesian customs since we were exiting the country.  The flight left at 4:45 and we were still in line at 4:40 when a guy yelled “Ho Chi Minh City”.  We raised our hands and he took us through customs and said, “Run!”  We sprinted down several flights of stairs, out onto the tarmac with buses and luggage carts zipping by, Air Asia employees in the distance waving their hands in the air next to one of the large jets.  We sprinted up the stairs to the plane just in time to be greeted by the glares of a 150 passengers as they quickly closed the cabin door behind us!

Sweating, panting, exhausted, we had made it.  I’ve been pretty fortunate to have things always seem to go my way but this time, I thought I was hosed.  So here I sit, 6:00 AM Seattle time on Thursday, March 15th, writing this in disbelief that we actually pulled it off!

Moral of the story:  Spend money, buy Karma, it works!




Thursday, March 15, 2012

Bali, Indonesia




Preface Note:  For the first 27 years of my life, if my memory serves me correctly, the first reference to Bali was when I heard the Sting lyrics “Along the fields of Bali”   I had imagined swaying rice fields, clear skies, and peace.  All that came crashing down when the night before we arrived there, I realized for the first time, he’s saying “Along the fields of barley”!!!!!   Who gives a crap about barley Sting!!!  SING ABOUT BALI!


Fields of Gold by Sting! Tell me you don't hear him say Bali!


We landed in Bali at around 7:00 PM local time on Thursday March 8th.  We walked off the plane and were greeted with a slap in the face by the Indonesian humidity before making our way towards the taxi vendors.  I was immediately met once again by an army of taxi drivers pushing and shoving each other to get the opportunity to sucker the two Americans into paying much more than they actually charged for a ride to the hotel we had pre-booked.  The guy started at $400,000 Rupiah, roughly $36 US before we haggled him down to $200,000.  A fair price as it was roughly a 15 or so minute cab ride (I soon realized it was 4x times too much, they won again!).

I arrived at “The Island Hotel Bali” on recommendation from Trip Advisor, Lonely Planet, and Hostel World whom had all given the place stellar reviews.  The price was roughly $55 US a night split between Caleb and I, a little on the high end but the place was clean, beds were nice, great pool, located in the heart of the action in Kuta/Legion, free breakfast everyday and a free 1-hour massage came with the package as well.




Caleb and I settled into our room, got cleaned up and decided to take a walk through the busy streets to find something to eat.  After settling on a Hawker Stall (roadside cart serving food), we approached a couple locals and asked where the hot spot was, negotiated a price for a seat on the back of a couple of their mopeds and sped off into the night in search of a club called Bounty in Kuta.  10 minutes of bobbing and weaving through traffic later, we pulled up outside the club and walked in, planning on having a few drinks to check it out, nothing too crazy.  The place was enormous, one of the bigger bars I’ve been too outside of South Padre Island or Ibiza.  The bar, broken up into a variety of themed rooms and levels, was all together the size of a large Safeway, it easily could fit over a thousand people.  We grabbed a few drinks from a cocktail waitress that she poured into brightly colored water bottles and meandered through the complex.  At one point, I noticed a few people sitting at a table well placed at the front of the bar.  I approached a girl seated there and asked if I could join her and her friends to which she warmly obliged.  I was then introduced to her boyfriend (Piss!) and a couple others around.  Cara and Nathan were from Melbourne, Australia, as were nearly everyone in the bar.  There are direct flights from multiple cities in Australia and from speaking with them, this is their equivalent to Cancun for us.  Cheap and easy to get to.


These two were a blast and also enjoyed the ancient art form of social drinking which Caleb and I are both very passionate about as well.   We all talked and laughed for hours, watched people flail around in a giant McPlayplace sized foam pit and danced on stage to some live music until calling it a night late in the morning just as we watched Nathan, lit up from trying to hang with the Americans, dance shirtless by himself on stage much to his girlfriend’s displeasure.

In the process of leaving, I somehow lost Caleb.  I wasn’t too worried as I was confident he was coherent enough to at least tell a taxi the name of our hotel.  I walked outside the bar and hailed a driver, negotiated a fair deal (hopefully) and asked him if he knew where my hotel was as the only negative comment I had heard about the place was that it was difficult to find.  He assured me that he knew exactly where it was located after I repeated the name of the hotel half a dozen times slowly since that’s how you communicate when you don’t speak someone’s language.  I was obviously not in the absolute clearest of mindsets as he began driving through these side streets and cutbacks.  I couldn’t recognize any of the buildings that we were passing but again, he assured me he knew where we were going. 30-Minutes later we arrive at the Sun Island Hotel, and I asked him, is “The Island Hotel” spelled “The Sun Island Hotel”?  I tell him it’s the wrong place and he says now he knows where it is.  Another 20 minutes goes by and he stops at a hotel to ask what I’m assuming is a friend directions.  Everyone knows this point in the evening after partying, you’re tired, exhausted, you just want your bed, perhaps a cheeseburger at Dick’s, that’s it.  He runs back the car, me reiterating I’m not paying him any extra and takes me to this alley that looks familiar as the passage to my hotel.  He drops me off and says its 100 meters away.  After 100 meter’s I realize IT’S NOT THE RIGHT F’ING HOTEL!!!

So there I was, 3 in the morning, an hour into what should’ve been a 10 minute drive, tired, loaded, zero cash in my pocket as I just gave what’s left to the driver, lost, and now I’m being accosted by drug dealers and prostitutes trying to get more out of me.   I walked till I saw a group of local guys and girls on mopeds on a street corner drinking.  I asked them if they knew where my hotel was and they began conversing in a different language.  For all I knew they could’ve been talking about how to rob and kill me but I could’ve cared less.  One guy assured me he did, said he’d take me there for $5 so I told him I’d pay him 3x that amount if he’d actually get me there since I’d have to run to my room, grab my debit card and swing by an ATM before paying him.  He agreed. 

I jumped on the back of his moped, folded my hands on my lap and told him not to get into a wreck as I was going to try and take a nap while he drove like a maniac.  30-minutes later I arrivde at the hotel, THE SUN ISLAND HOTEL!!!!!!!!  I just start laughing thinking “Of course he can’t find it”.  I once again tell them it’s the wrong place and now he says he knows exactly where it is.  Another 20 minutes rolls by and we finally make it to my hotel and I’m overjoyed!  Finally!  I run inside, grab my card and tell him to take me to an ATM.  He comes out of the alley, makes a left, drives literally, 200 yards and there, across from the ATM is all of his friends exactly where I’d found them an hour before!  I had literally only been a block away the whole time.  Oh well, I was there, I laughed with him and his friends, shared another beer with them before he drove me back to my place for the final time, my bed eagerly calling my name.

I woke up late the next afternoon feeling terrible and decided the right course of action was spending my day lounging by the pool.  I checked my email at one point and was surprised to find a message from one of my favorite group of girls, the Norwegians!  They had just flown into Bali from Manila, Philippines, and asked if I were in town.   I quick Google check to of their hotel revealed they were only a 10 minute walk away.  I sent them a message saying we should meet up at some point during the night and we set up a time and place.  I’m amazed I’ve run into them in three separate countries.

After recovering for the duration of the day, Caleb and I headed off to a bar called “The SkyGarden” to meet up with our Norwegian friends.  It was wonderful as always to see them and hear what they’d been up to since the last time we’d been together.  They told us about traveling through the Philippines and had a ton of great things to say about the place.  We imbibed the night away together, dancing, laughing, singing a quartet cover of Wonderwall by Oasis much to the liking of this 50 year old man dancing in front of the stage we were on.  After being disappointed by the lack of rush from record companies offering to sign our newly formed group, we partied more till the bar finally closed at 4am.  Fantastic evening!

I woke up the next morning around 9am and got everyone moving.  Caleb and I planned on renting motorcycles again and I didn’t want to waste the day away.  We walked down the street, speaking with multiple motorcycle vendors until I found one that agreed on the price I was prepared to pay for a 24 rental.  $4 each later and we were zipping off on our mopeds aimed for the cultural center of Bali called Ubud some 35 miles away.  Driving a car let alone a motorcycle is inherently dangerous in most of the places we’ve visited but this place added a new level of what I like to call “excitement”.  The traffic in Bali flows at a very high rate of speed, there are lines painted on the road but they might as well not be there as no one abides by them.  Motorcycles outnumber cars significantly and everyone is in a constant state of weaving throughout the traffic, in between cars, passing into oncoming lanes, etc. 

Lookin' stylish on my pink moped!


What I have learned from traveling with Caleb is that he provides me with a voice of reason, a balance.  I’ll be full speed zipping through lanes of traffic following the locals, narrowly getting clipped by other cars and at the next stop sign he’ll be the one to politely tell me “You’re a God Damn idiot” which is needed once in a while.

We were about fifteen minutes into the ride, cruising at 50 MPH when a guy riding next to me looked over and asked where I was from.  I’ve noticed it’s not uncommon for people to strike up conversation while riding inches from each other on the freeways here.  I told him where I was from, what we were doing, all the while trying to avoid a pileup.  He said he lived in Ubud and told us he’d show us the way, as we weren’t exactly sure how to get there.  As we got closer he asked if we’d like to see a waterfall that was nearby, we obliged and he led us on this path overlooking endless rice fields and green jungle before stopping at the waterfall location.  We jumped off the bikes, took a quick walk before sitting down and finally getting a chance to talk to the guy while overlooking the spectacular view.




His name was Kioke and he’d lived in Bali his entire life.  I didn’t ask his age but the presence of gray hair and a wrinkled face made me assume he was in his early 40’s.  I asked him how often he picked up random white guys on mopeds while riding on the freeway to rob them and he laughed replying “Not very much”.  Spectacular.  We told him we wanted to see Monkey Forest in Ubud but that was pretty much the extent of our plans.  He asked if we were open to seeing other things while we were there to which of course we said “Absolutely”.  After snapping a few photos at the waterfall, we jumped on the bikes and headed to his family’s tea and coffee plantation less than 10 minutes away.  I found out that the reason he had been coming from our direction is he makes multiple deliveries a week to a hotel that buys from them.  The plantation was small, maybe 20 acres from what I could see but aside from the tea and coffee, they grew an assortment of vegetables, spices, and fruits.




He gave us a tour of the place, explaining how each type of plant was grown and cultivated.  He showed us a type of fruit called Durian.  I had seen the volleyball sized spikey fruit on roadsides throughout our travels but never bothered to taste it.  Kioke told us that when you cut it open, there’s a strong odor that some people like less than others.  Caleb and I bought one and instructed a person near us with a machete to chop it open.  She sliced it in one hit and handed me half of it.  I put my face in the fruit and took a huge whiff before nearly passing out unconscious.  The smell was worse than anything I’d ever smelled and it was extremely powerful.  It made me want to transport back to my youth and burry my face in the dead, rotten Dungeness crabs I used to handle back at my job in high school.  The smell was a mix between a loaded baby diaper sitting on Arizona asphalt for 3 hours and rotting flesh.  I gagged, my mouth began producing unimaginable amounts of saliva in my bodies anticipation of the violent vomiting sure to follow.  I managed to reel it back in, getting myself in check before handing it over to Caleb and watch him react similarly to my amusement.  The fruit inside was allegedly supposed to contradict the strong odor and be quite delicious.  I ate it.  Gagged more and finally accepted that they must’ve fed me excrement.  It was awful.  Don’t EVER try this stuff.





Our next stop carried on with the theme of “shit” that we’d be introduced to.  Kopi Luwak is the world’s most expensive coffee costing up to $160 US per pound.  The reason for its high expense is due to its extremely low production.  The reason for its extremely low production is that fact that it’s produced from the bowels of an Asian Palm Civet, an animal similar to a mongoose.  The Civet eats the raw coffee bean and after the bean passes through its digestive track its boiled to remove all the excess poo before being roasted in a large metal pan then crushed by hand as seen in the images below.






Our guide asked us if we’d ever tried “Shit Coffee” as he called it before.  I told him if they didn’t sell it at Starbucks or it didn’t come in a K-Cup, I probably hadn’t.   We said what the hell and ponied up a few bucks to have them whip us up a hot pot of coffee produced from the little furry guy sitting behind us.  Deep down, I knew he was thinking, “These guys are idiots!”


After sampling some teas and trying a hand rolled cigar made from the tobacco on his property, we jumped back on our motorcycles and headed to the Monkey Forest.  20-minutes later we arrived at the 27-acre reserve home to over 340 Crab-eating Macaque monkeys.  At the entryway, Kioke told us to buy some bananas to feed the monkeys, so we snagged a few bundles.  We walked a few minutes into the forest before seeing monkeys in every direction.  Large adults all the way down to infants holding onto their mothers, it was truly a sight to see.  He instructed us to hold a banana over our head and when we did, the monkeys came running.  They’d jump from the ground onto my shirt and climb on top of my shoulders to get the bananas.  I left Caleb in charge of holding onto the large sacks of bananas which lasted only a few minutes before the large monkeys ripped the whole bag away from him and fled into the forest.  A ton of pictures, a couple of bites and a shoulder full of monkey piss later, we headed back to our bikes to head out to the next place.  Good thing I got that rabies shot!  Oh wait…….

Just chillin!

They're in love!


Mom and her baby



Fascinated by my sandal!



Kioke asked what else I wanted to do and I told him I’d like to check out a local art gallery and he knew just the one.  We pulled up to an old, large Balinese temple that had been partially converted into a place where local artists came to paint.  It was incredible.  Some of the paintings took artists over 6 months to complete and were so detail oriented I couldn’t fathom how they could’ve been created.  I hadn’t planned on purchasing anything but some of the pieces and the stories behind them from the actual artists were too hard to pass up.  After looking for quite sometime, I finally settled on two wonderful pieces, negotiated an agreeable price and winced as they swiped my Visa through the machine.  Not to be outdone, Caleb one-upped my two purchases and bought five paintings, making me not feel as bad.  Kioke seemed generally pleased, as I’m sure the kickback this place was going to give him equaled two months wages.  He deserved every bit of it.  FedEx two day international shipping and those babies were sitting back in Seattle before I even finished writing this post.  We gave our best to Kioke and gave him an extra tip since he took us places and enabled us to do things we were sure not to have done without his guidance. 

An hour later and we were back at our hotel getting cleaned up to meet for a dinner date with the Norwegians at a local Irish restaurant.  Even though it was Saturday night, the four of us were dog tired from not only the night before, but also the long day we’d also just had.  We called the night early and headed to bed for a solid nights rest.

Sunday morning we woke up and eased into the day. We knew all along that we had wanted to do some diving, as Bali is world renowned for some of its dive sites.  We rented the motorcycles for another day and headed 30 miles south to an area called Nusa Dua where we had been told most of the dive shops operated from.

As a quick note, we had heard from Kioke that the police in Indonesia were much more corrupt that that of some of the other places we’d previously visited due to the poor nature of the country and their wages which can be as low as $3 a day and he’d advised us to just try to avoid them as they try to find any excuse to extort you.  Halfway to our destination, me ahead of Caleb on my motorbike by about 30 yards, a police officer in uniform came running out into the third lane of traffic at an intersection I was about to cross at 20+MPH pointing directly at me.  As I got closer, I saw him vigorously signaling me to pull over into a side area.  I looked back at Caleb, then back to the police man and in a moment of thought that many might call ill-advised, I said to myself “I’m gonna make you earn it” and hit the throttle.  I accelerated, bobbing and weaving through traffic for a little over a mile before noticing an alley on the side of supermarket.  I veered in behind it and waited for a few minutes.  I slowly pulled back out to the side of the road and waited to see if Caleb would come.  My instinct said he would’ve pulled over if instructed to and 5 minutes later I saw him come zooming down the road and signaled him in.  He pulled up shaking his head in disbelief as a laughed to myself.   He asked if the guy had caught me as apparently when I went past, another guy on a motorcycle shot out in pursuit.  I said no and listened as he explained about the fine he had to pay because he didn’t have an “International Motorcycle Permit”.  His choice, according to the policeman was go to court or pay him money.  He chose option two and went on his way.




Freedommmmmmm!!!


I’ll admit, while looking back it was quite foolish, although I can’t help but cherish the victory.  America 1.  Indonesia 0.

We got back on the road and soon made it to Nusa Dua which we discovered wasn’t the place with all the dive shops like we’d heard.  It did have a nice place to walk around which included a natural blowhole created by ocean waves hitting a little inlet in the lava created shoreline.




We drove through the sketchy commercial fishing port of Benoa Harbor, snapped a few photos before meandering new roads all the way home trying to avoid another police encounter.  Once back, we hopped online and realized we’d been close to the dive shops the whole time, frustrating.  The next morning, we got up early and headed for a place called Jet Set Marine.  It’s not only ranked the top dive shop and watersports company in Bali, but also one of the top things to do IN Bali according to Trip Advisor.  Soon after arriving, we were greeted by an American woman name Rhonda who owned the place.  She had worked for a corporate company in Oklahoma for nearly 30 years before marrying a Balinese man and opening up this business with him.  She ran the marketing side of the business while he was able to take care of all the local staffing.  She was very helpful and informative which lead us to book a dive for that day and two for the next.  We jumped on a private boat with a driver and a dive instructor and headed out to a dive site 15 minutes away.  We were down for about an hour and we’re able to see tons of incredible fish, stingrays, corals, and even some large eels.  Great dive!  Once back on shore, we grabbed a bite to eat and a few beers from the restaurant at the complex and lounged in their pool for a while before heading back to our hotel for the evening. 

The next morning, we had to meet in front of our hotel for the day’s journey to the dive site.  Our driver, a dive master and a nice SUV greeted us on the street.   The total cost for private transportation 2.5 hours away, 2 dives, lunch and transportation back was less than $100 US, phenomenal deal.

The dive took place at a wreck called the USAT Liberty.  It was a 411 ft. World War II transport ship operated by the US army that had been torpedoed by the Japanese.  Another US destroyer attempted to tow the badly damaged ship to a port for repairs.  When the ship started taking on heavy water off the coast of Bali, they beached it.  The ship lay there for twenty-one years from 1942 till 1963 when violent tremors from a nearby volcanic eruption shook the ship from the beach to below the waters surface.  After nearly fifty years of being underwater, the ship has turned into an artificial reef.  Countless species of fish and plant life call her home, which makes for an incredible dive site.  Caleb and I dove two separate times that day before catching the ride home to our hotel.

Bali was an incredible place and the week spent there was amazing.  I had played it up so much in my head because of hearing about it so much growing up that I think my expectations were unachievable.  We definitely saw much better beaches in Thailand.  The relentless badger from people trying to sell you everything from Cocaine, Speed, and Viagra (I got offered Viagra so much I started questioning myself) to nick knack crap and “women of the night” was tiresome.  Our favorite part by far was getting out of the party, hustle and bustle scene and heading to the highlands in the middle to experience more of the actual culture.  It’s a fantastic island that offers everything from an outrageous nightlife, to calming hikes around the volcanic mountains, to getting lost in a small village hidden amongst endless rice fields.

We headed for the airport early in the morning of Wednesday, March 14th in search of a new destination, wonder where we’ll end up!!!