I think I mentioned that the only thing we were disappointed with in the Bali Conrad resort was the beach. Our driver on Saturday told us that the beach to go to from the hotel is Kuta Beach. Thirty minutes away, 6 USD cab ride. We decide to be adventurous (AGAIN!) on Sunday and go and see what Kuta Beach is all about...
We get there around 11 am and realize that it's a typical beach town, full of tourists and locals tending to tourists... Our cab drops us off on a sort of a promenade, made of a narrow pavement and two rows of palm trees separating the pavement from the beach. Wanting to walk in the shade, we enter the palm tree strip only to find out that that is exactly where all shade lovers seek refuge. We want to rent beach chairs and an umbrella so we head towards the said umbrellas that are a distant, mirage-like image somewhere far away ahead of us. And that's where we are forced to understand that in a resort environment you are protected. On a public beach - you are not. Walking in the general direction of the umbrellas we are approached a thousand times by a thousand different locals, all of them offering something. Politely refusing all the things that they offer, we plow forward. Finally, after a good 15 minute walk we get to the umbrellas which, following some haggling, are offered to us at 8 bucks per set - two beach beds and an ancient coca-cola umbrella that probably remembers early sixties... But it gives shade so we are happy. What it does not give is protection from yet another wave of locals who attack with a strength of a waterfall as soon as we sit our tushies down. The range of things offered is wiiiide: from manicures / pedicures through foot massages and shoulder massages, food, drinks, dresses and sarongs, to wooden bows and arrows (????) and knock-off Rolexes... Hello... How are you? Where are you from, Australia? You don't want foot massage? I come later? Ok? You want later?...
You can't even get ANGRY with them because they are so nice. And friendly. And chatty. And really they do not insist. They just want to strike a conversation and make a little business off you. I have an impression that Bryan's presence gives me a bit of a relief because next to us on two beds under a coca-cola umbrella are spread out two Australian ladies SURROUNDED by four or five local women, who have been standing there for quite a while now. After some time the Aussies give in and each of them has two women working on her - one doing a pedicure, one a manicure, foot massage... all kinds of things. Soon we are approached by an ancient looking little lady, well into her seventies, with a huge bowl of fruit on her head. Pineapple? Mango? Since we did not have breakfast I decide to extend a helping hand to her and ask for a pineapple. She folds her legs under her on the sand, removes the basket from her head, picks up a huge knife and a pineapple and begins to peel it. I watch in wonder how she gets it ready for me in smooth efficient cuts of the knife. I am handed the pineapple with its husk wrapped in foil... money exchanged hands, she put the basket back on her old wrinkled head and walked away, I shook off the initial germophobia that overcame me and dig into the pineapple. That was a very very good brunch ;). Much better than a sad little piece of local omelette that Bryan got... From what it looked like to me it was omelette's sad long-forgotten third cousin but it did not kill him so all was good ;).
We took advantage of the beach. We swam, we suntanned (me - reasonably, putting sunscreen on every 30 minutes, Bryan - not so much, so in the evening he discovered with alert that he looked like a young shy lobster about to go out on its first date...) and enjoyed our real beach experience. It still was not the paradise beach that we were so looking forward to but that's still in our future. Bryan has spent the last four consecutive evenings browsing the net for the Ultimate Beach Experience so I am full of hope.
As for Bali, we parted with the island and with our Conrad resort with sadness. To cheer Bryan up we decided to break his Hamburger-free Diet and he ordered a burger for lunch on Monday at the hotel restaurant, our last meal on Bali. I tried the hamburger, it was good, but for him it must have tasted of heaven, judging from his facial expression, immortalized on a photograph. Poor Guy had not had a burger since Tuesday before we left Austin, when Stephen and Marshall mercifully took him to Mighty Fine... So it's been ALMOST A MONTH. Without a burger. Hard to believe, but it's true. We will see how long he goes without one now. Counting from June 21... Our last day on the beautiful island of Bali.
We get there around 11 am and realize that it's a typical beach town, full of tourists and locals tending to tourists... Our cab drops us off on a sort of a promenade, made of a narrow pavement and two rows of palm trees separating the pavement from the beach. Wanting to walk in the shade, we enter the palm tree strip only to find out that that is exactly where all shade lovers seek refuge. We want to rent beach chairs and an umbrella so we head towards the said umbrellas that are a distant, mirage-like image somewhere far away ahead of us. And that's where we are forced to understand that in a resort environment you are protected. On a public beach - you are not. Walking in the general direction of the umbrellas we are approached a thousand times by a thousand different locals, all of them offering something. Politely refusing all the things that they offer, we plow forward. Finally, after a good 15 minute walk we get to the umbrellas which, following some haggling, are offered to us at 8 bucks per set - two beach beds and an ancient coca-cola umbrella that probably remembers early sixties... But it gives shade so we are happy. What it does not give is protection from yet another wave of locals who attack with a strength of a waterfall as soon as we sit our tushies down. The range of things offered is wiiiide: from manicures / pedicures through foot massages and shoulder massages, food, drinks, dresses and sarongs, to wooden bows and arrows (????) and knock-off Rolexes... Hello... How are you? Where are you from, Australia? You don't want foot massage? I come later? Ok? You want later?...
You can't even get ANGRY with them because they are so nice. And friendly. And chatty. And really they do not insist. They just want to strike a conversation and make a little business off you. I have an impression that Bryan's presence gives me a bit of a relief because next to us on two beds under a coca-cola umbrella are spread out two Australian ladies SURROUNDED by four or five local women, who have been standing there for quite a while now. After some time the Aussies give in and each of them has two women working on her - one doing a pedicure, one a manicure, foot massage... all kinds of things. Soon we are approached by an ancient looking little lady, well into her seventies, with a huge bowl of fruit on her head. Pineapple? Mango? Since we did not have breakfast I decide to extend a helping hand to her and ask for a pineapple. She folds her legs under her on the sand, removes the basket from her head, picks up a huge knife and a pineapple and begins to peel it. I watch in wonder how she gets it ready for me in smooth efficient cuts of the knife. I am handed the pineapple with its husk wrapped in foil... money exchanged hands, she put the basket back on her old wrinkled head and walked away, I shook off the initial germophobia that overcame me and dig into the pineapple. That was a very very good brunch ;). Much better than a sad little piece of local omelette that Bryan got... From what it looked like to me it was omelette's sad long-forgotten third cousin but it did not kill him so all was good ;).
We took advantage of the beach. We swam, we suntanned (me - reasonably, putting sunscreen on every 30 minutes, Bryan - not so much, so in the evening he discovered with alert that he looked like a young shy lobster about to go out on its first date...) and enjoyed our real beach experience. It still was not the paradise beach that we were so looking forward to but that's still in our future. Bryan has spent the last four consecutive evenings browsing the net for the Ultimate Beach Experience so I am full of hope.
As for Bali, we parted with the island and with our Conrad resort with sadness. To cheer Bryan up we decided to break his Hamburger-free Diet and he ordered a burger for lunch on Monday at the hotel restaurant, our last meal on Bali. I tried the hamburger, it was good, but for him it must have tasted of heaven, judging from his facial expression, immortalized on a photograph. Poor Guy had not had a burger since Tuesday before we left Austin, when Stephen and Marshall mercifully took him to Mighty Fine... So it's been ALMOST A MONTH. Without a burger. Hard to believe, but it's true. We will see how long he goes without one now. Counting from June 21... Our last day on the beautiful island of Bali.
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