Ryan & U'i's Pacific Odyssey: Bali Ho!

Sorry for the long delay. We have been traveling and settling for a bit. Internet is a bit scarse out here on the Bukit Peninsula. Here’s an update from where we left off in Manila:

Our last night in Makati

I am thoroughly suffering from that incredible meal we had last night. I had no idea my stomach could twist into such violent knots. At one point, I was concerned that one of the dishes, or the sauce it was drenched in, had eaten a hole through the wall of my small intestines. If this is anything like menstrual cramps, all I can say is wow, sorry boutcha ladies! Up far before dawn in the Makati hotel, checked out, flagged down a cab, then back through the mess of downtown, trying to pick our way to the airport through the morning chaos (actually no different from the midmorning, noon, afternoon, or night chaos). We got to the check-in desk early. Good thing I listened to U’I, as thirty minutes later the line was 100 strong. It seemed as though everyone was trying to flee this place. As we knew going into this ordeal, the weight limit for each checked luggage article was 20kg (around 44lbs). I tossed my duffle on the scale, 16kg, no problem brah. But i was nervous about U’is bag. My spidy-sense quivered on this one. We lugged hers up, and the digital display numbers danced: 17, 18, 19, 19.5, 19.8, 20. We held our breath and it stopped. I looked at U’I and shook my head. She beamed with satisfaction. I couldn’t say a thing. We cleared customs, immigration, and security and got to our gate. Three and a half hours later we were on final approach into Singapore. Giant oil tankers were lined up off shore in a grid pattern, barely recognizable through the afternoon haze.

In surf lingo, the Singapore airport was absolutely firing. I felt like I was walking through a science fiction movie. Maybe not one made today, maybe one that was made in the late 90s, but that was taking place today. It had the precision and cleanliness of a military hospital, but the warm touch of a 5-star hotel reception area. Within minutes of deplaning and walking over to an LED TV display, two sharply dressed women carrying IPAD’s approached and asked us if we had any questions. They immediately called up our flight info and had us off on our way in no time. We found the upstairs food court, which was complete with a giant indoor children’s playground, a nursing mother’s station, and state of the art glass elevators. The bathrooms were straight out of a Four Seasons. My toilet even hosed me down (posterior cleanse was the term I believe). By our gate we found a little tropical plant lounge with Haupu’u ferns and lawn chairs, for taking a load off between flights. Free internet stations were everywhere. I could freaking live inside this airport. Everyone was friendly, and nice, nothing was put-on or forced. I think the Singporians have something going on here. I’m all for a little caning to stop spitting, littering and graffiti now. Sign me up as the lead flogger! The only glitch in our experience had nothing to do with Singapore, and everything to do with the budget airline we flew, JetStar Asia. Owned by Qantas Airlines (Australia’s biggest airline), JetStar is Asia’s version of ValueJet. The seats are cramped, the bathrooms dirty, the pilots a little crazy on the intercom (the ozzy accent definitely added to the equation), and the baggage easily lost. In Manila they told us to make sure and take our ticket stubs to a transfer desk in Singapore, so they could manually enter our baggage ID numbers, in order for our bags to switch planes and join us in Bali. It’s normally an automatic process, which every other airline in the world seems to have down by now. It ended up causing a big headache for everyone transferring on our flight. After much deliberation with an uniformed transfer desk attendant, a very nice Singapore Airport IPAD’er heard our squabbles and took the matters into her own hands. “I used to work for them, they have no clue what is going on, it’s really bad” she said and disappeared with our stubs. Five minutes later she reappeared with a smile and said “Your bags are good to go, enjoy your stay here” at the Singapore Airport Resort I mused.

Singapore Airport - yeah

11 hours after departing Manila, we touched down in Denpasar Bali. The rain was beating against the cold airplane windows and streaking back from the jet blast. I forgot we had arrived at the tail end of the wet season. Customs and immigration was much easier than I remembered it. We blew through the paperwork formalities, assured the guards we were not smuggling drugs despite U’is conspicuously wrapped Chinese chrysanthemum tea buds in plastic sandwich bags, paid our dues, minded our luggage, selected our money changer, and entered the 11pm furnace of SE Asia in early March. Our clothes were drenched within minutes, although the rain had stopped some time ago. I was sure I could see mushrooms growing out of particulates floating in the air. Needless to say the humidity was staggering. Also surprising was the taxi line, which had formed around the corner. We sweated our way to the Taxi Service Desk, paid upfront for our ride to Kuta (55,000RP), hopped in our cab, and relished in the accomplishments of all mechanical engineers who came before us. Thank you Toyota Air Conditioning. It was somewhat off season, you could probably call it early season for Bali and so Kuta, the thumping hedonistic party town of the south was relatively quiet. I hate Kuta, but it’s very close to the airport, and always easy to find a room at midnight. We ended up stopping at Suka Beach Inn, off of Poppies 2 lane, the latch of Bali’s tourist trap. The room had AC, hot water, and was clean enough to appease my better half, so we accepted without much haggling, dropped our things and walked across the street for the inaugural Bintang and Nasi Goreng. They sure tasted good. The kid running the place was family to the owners of our previous homestay, The Gong at uluwatu. We chatted for a bit then crashed hard. Up at 3am briefly when our neighbors, a young couple from Essex, England, discovered they had lost their key and began arguing loudly in slurred British jabber (can’t imagine it any other way actually). The morning brought a welcoming surprise; the surroundings were pretty nice, with a pool and hot tub, plenty of foliage and a free continental breakfast (bali style of course – Jaffles and coffee).

Our place in Kuta

We walked up and down the narrow streets as the vendors began to open. Luckily for us, we had stayed right in the heart of the surfboard hustlers, so finding boards was simply a matter of engaging a price war between shops. I was floored by how many new and used boards were for sale. I must have seen (30) Tokoro Resin 8’s alone in the few shops we stopped. Prices are basically the same as in Hawaii though, so I had to keep reminding myself that I was only buying boards because the airlines would have raped me trying to bring mine down here. We found U’I a really sweet yellow and blue body board. She approved and we walked home feeling as though we had accomplished something. I am in no rush to find a board, with plenty of time to browse the next week or two as I continue to let my rib heal.

U'i practicing her airdrop

In the surf shop where we found her board, we also found our driver to Uluwatu. Udi, a Javanese man now living in Bali. He was a huge Indonesian, tall, broad shoulders, kind smile. He picked us up at our hotel and we chatted the whole way out to Uluwatu. When we make long overland trips later on, we will likely use him as our transport. We reached Mamo Homestay, and pulled into the familiar driveway. The same folks running the place were still there, and it felt like we never left 2.5 years ago. They all remembered us. We took the same room as our last visit. Mamo and Uluwatu in general has changed quite a bit. For starters, Mamo is building a huge 30 room two or three story addition behind the octagons that Noa, Zenn, and I first stayed in. Second, there are several new luxury homestays between Mamo and Uluwatu, and third, there is a Mamo 2 right down by the cliff at Uluwatu, which has AC rooms (ours is just a fan room).

Mamo Homestay

Mamo Additions

Vicki's Warung crew

There is construction noise during the day, but I don’t think it will be an issue as we will be gone exploring most days, and the noise typically ends by 4:30pm. We got a great rate (100,000rp) per night, with a motor scooter transport for another 40,000rp per day. Although the exchange rate went down some (8,500rp per dollar), it’s still hard to beat $16/day for housing and transport. There is an identical room available adjacent to ours for friends who visit, and several more “luxurious” rooms on the neighboring properties for those who want to live it up with AC, pool, and all the amenities (we’re on a budget trip here ladies and gents). Honestly hot water will never be used, we would likely pay extra for cold water if it ever came down to it. We’ll see how the night goes, praying for the temperature to drop some.

Walked down to Vicki’s Warung on the cliffs of Uluwatu. It certainly looks different as well. Many new concrete warung structures, and a number of new cruising huts and viewing platforms right down on the rocks over the water. They provide a crazy view of the most famous surf break in the Southern Hemi. More Bintang and Nasi Goreng from Vicki’s daughter Wayan, then it was siesta time to beat the heat. The surf? It’s completely empty. Two guys out at Ulu’s was the most I saw all afternoon, albeit it was windy. However, from 6am till 8/9am its glassy (so they tell me), and yes there are waves. I would call it 1-3ft today on high tide. We picked up a tide chart calendar from one of the Warungs, a critical addition as they have 10+ft tide swings here in Indo. Low-going-high is 6am tomorrow, so U’I may score. She is nervous but will do great. I’ll send a report later with the results. To all, goodnight for now, 6pm, sunset, Uluwatu, Bali , Ryan + U’i