As promised, less chatter this time and more photos.
The day after Neypi we left the front gates of The Chillhouse for the first time in over 24 hours. Nothing had changed, except we felt well rested and the small streets were littered with the aftermath of the Ogoh Ogoh creation and then their ultimate destruction. Well, if you are Hindu, you could possibly say the air was cleaner and safer as the evil spirits had been frightened away and hopefully would not find their way back until… actually – that part was never described to us, just that offerings were given to Gods daily in order to keep their personal space, home, and temples evil-spirit-free for when they do eventually find their way back to the island.
If I haven’t mentioned how undeniably hot and humid this island is, now is a good time to – and it will probably be mentioned again. The air is THICK. I’ve been to many carribean locations and even Fiji. It is nothing like Indonesia. Taking a deep breath is hard because you’re breathing in water/air mixture. This fact is important this day for two reasons, 1. my sister is half way through her third pregnancy, a pregnancy that she will admit is not treating her very well physically and 2. we peddle biked nearly two miles (1.7miles to be exact, I google mapped it) one way in that heat and humidity on free bikes that had not been serviced their entire life, were on their last leg as far as breaks go, and had exactly one (count it, one) gear to work with.
But we made it, and when we did, it was mid day, and we finally saw exactly why surfers from all over the world come here to conquer the waves. It wasn’t like any beach I’ve ever visited (causally walk across the sand, looking for shells, catch a small wave or two, and maybe body board or skim). The waves were rough and tall and I knew my skills were no match for them, but Ariel couldn’t wait to get out there. She missed out that day, she wasn’t feeling well – being with child and all – but she was excited for the first morning she could.
The waves were crowded with surf students from every surf school in the area.
It was really high tide so we were witness to run away surf boards and gear on not one but two occasions.
So instead of surfing, we did the best we could with just being in the water without a board, people watched, bought some bracelets from a couple of ladies peddling hand made jewelry, and scoped out the beach side scene which just included some snacks, drinks, toys, and of course board rentals.
After about an hour, we made our way back, slowly but surely in the even hotter heat. Half way back we stopped at a Mexican restaurant for a break, a cold drink, and shade. Effects of which didn’t last long once we got back on our bikes and muscled the rest of the way back to The Chillhouse. The rest of the day we discovered a long needed nap, swim in the pool, cold drinks, and a very strange sun burn that I had obtained on the outside of my knees and the lower half of my forearms and tops of my hands. The struggle is real for us pale skinned freckle faced sun burners.
Don’t stay away too long, next post: a girl who hasn’t ever ridden a scooter, scooters all over town (remember the traffic videos from post one?), and an unexpected low tide sunrise. Hopefully my pregnant sister will give us some good guest writing material too, because while I was focused on not killing us in Balinese traffic on a scooter – she was passenger to it all.