We went to Bali for a weekend of fun
Relaxation , time in the sun
We found a volcano with fog at the top
But couldn't get home unless we promised to shop!
Tis the Bali way!
Dear Readers,
In honor of Steve's birthday, we booked a four day trip to Bali. Ever see South Pacific? Well, it's not like that anymore. If Ever. No one sang anything. Bali is in Indonesia, a recent country that forced together a bunch of islands and called it a nation. Some of the islands were Okay with that, some weren't. See, Indonesia struggles with religion. It's 95 per cent Muslim and would like to force everyone else to comform to Islamic law. Bali is 90 per cent Hindu. They won't conform. It's a bad boy.
Bali is also in the ring of fire. We saw many large volcanoes as we flew in. We had to pay $25 each to get in and 30,000 rpm (indonesian money) to get out. They called it a departure tax. When we got off the plane, we were ushered into a LARGE line that didn't move for a hour supposedly emigration check. They barely had anyone working. As we moved up, more of the custom people disappeared. People were ticked as more and more travelers got off planes and were in line. This is the hallmark of Indonesia. Inefficiency and corruption. We weren't in line five minutes before an employee approached us and asked if we would like to get through the line faster (for a price). We are never sure why we are singled out (in our disheveled shorts) to get fleeced but we must seem rich compared to all the other white people there. Is it my Walmart shoes? My Kmart shirt? What exactly gives us away that we are secret lottery winners? We told them no, go away, we'll wait. And wait we did. When we finally got to the custom guy, the one next to him closed up shop and walked away. I was looking at the angry crowd and a lady's frustrated face said it all. I started to snicker but my husband shoved me (secret sign to shut up before we get arrested). I compiled.
We found our tour guide right away. He was the one holding up the sign that said :Huffer Steven.son. For the rest of the tour, Steve was called Mr. Stevenson. He never got it right. We were delivered to our hotel-Hard Rock after about twenty minutes. Bali is not like Thailand. The roads are narrow, driving is dangerous (lunacy actually). Three lanes mashed into one lane with no stop lights. Motorcycles ride on sidewalks dodging pedestrians like bowling pins. Chaos reigns. Police are nonexistent in Bali and they don't need them. They solve their differences by a game of chicken. The traffic slowed and we realize the guys up ahead were actually pushing a van that had broken down. Pushing it down the street like it was going somewhere. When we got to the hotel, the guards checked our van for bombs with a bomb detector. You see Bali was bombed several years ago and over 200 people (mostly Australians) died. Bali people weren't happy. It ruined their tourist industry (their only industry) and they still blame the Muslims for the stupidity of the whole thing. The guards were also supposed to check people on foot going in the hotel. You had to have you room key around your neck. I noticed they did this only half the time. The rest of the time was spent smoking and joking with the other guards.
Our room was nice, the bed a rock. There was a sign that said don't drink the water. We used the bottled water that was provided and also bought more in the shop. The pools were fantastic. The TV was just like Singapore's (shows three or four years ago were on). Nothing remotely recent. At the airport we watched I Dream of Genie and the Golden Girls (aren't they all dead except Betty White) in the emigration line. We ended up eating in the Hard Rock Cafe where the music was deafening and rock videos were going all the time. We didn't go back. The hotel was billed as a family resort but they have a large band every night where many people (Japanese singles go to drink and party all night. We could hear it in our room. But they stopped after a while. By midnight they were all wasted and heading for bed.
So ended our first night in Bali.
Relaxation , time in the sun
We found a volcano with fog at the top
But couldn't get home unless we promised to shop!
Tis the Bali way!
Dear Readers,
In honor of Steve's birthday, we booked a four day trip to Bali. Ever see South Pacific? Well, it's not like that anymore. If Ever. No one sang anything. Bali is in Indonesia, a recent country that forced together a bunch of islands and called it a nation. Some of the islands were Okay with that, some weren't. See, Indonesia struggles with religion. It's 95 per cent Muslim and would like to force everyone else to comform to Islamic law. Bali is 90 per cent Hindu. They won't conform. It's a bad boy.
Bali is also in the ring of fire. We saw many large volcanoes as we flew in. We had to pay $25 each to get in and 30,000 rpm (indonesian money) to get out. They called it a departure tax. When we got off the plane, we were ushered into a LARGE line that didn't move for a hour supposedly emigration check. They barely had anyone working. As we moved up, more of the custom people disappeared. People were ticked as more and more travelers got off planes and were in line. This is the hallmark of Indonesia. Inefficiency and corruption. We weren't in line five minutes before an employee approached us and asked if we would like to get through the line faster (for a price). We are never sure why we are singled out (in our disheveled shorts) to get fleeced but we must seem rich compared to all the other white people there. Is it my Walmart shoes? My Kmart shirt? What exactly gives us away that we are secret lottery winners? We told them no, go away, we'll wait. And wait we did. When we finally got to the custom guy, the one next to him closed up shop and walked away. I was looking at the angry crowd and a lady's frustrated face said it all. I started to snicker but my husband shoved me (secret sign to shut up before we get arrested). I compiled.
We found our tour guide right away. He was the one holding up the sign that said :Huffer Steven.son. For the rest of the tour, Steve was called Mr. Stevenson. He never got it right. We were delivered to our hotel-Hard Rock after about twenty minutes. Bali is not like Thailand. The roads are narrow, driving is dangerous (lunacy actually). Three lanes mashed into one lane with no stop lights. Motorcycles ride on sidewalks dodging pedestrians like bowling pins. Chaos reigns. Police are nonexistent in Bali and they don't need them. They solve their differences by a game of chicken. The traffic slowed and we realize the guys up ahead were actually pushing a van that had broken down. Pushing it down the street like it was going somewhere. When we got to the hotel, the guards checked our van for bombs with a bomb detector. You see Bali was bombed several years ago and over 200 people (mostly Australians) died. Bali people weren't happy. It ruined their tourist industry (their only industry) and they still blame the Muslims for the stupidity of the whole thing. The guards were also supposed to check people on foot going in the hotel. You had to have you room key around your neck. I noticed they did this only half the time. The rest of the time was spent smoking and joking with the other guards.
Our room was nice, the bed a rock. There was a sign that said don't drink the water. We used the bottled water that was provided and also bought more in the shop. The pools were fantastic. The TV was just like Singapore's (shows three or four years ago were on). Nothing remotely recent. At the airport we watched I Dream of Genie and the Golden Girls (aren't they all dead except Betty White) in the emigration line. We ended up eating in the Hard Rock Cafe where the music was deafening and rock videos were going all the time. We didn't go back. The hotel was billed as a family resort but they have a large band every night where many people (Japanese singles go to drink and party all night. We could hear it in our room. But they stopped after a while. By midnight they were all wasted and heading for bed.
So ended our first night in Bali.
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