Random updates on life in Bali.

Surfing, beer, waxed thread and flying.

I stopped surfing when I left Kuta. I pretend that it is geography, but I am hurting. Actually I am hurt. I was involved actively in two sports that are pretty arm centric and I strained a tendon in my left arm from getting my bulk up on the board. This arm is also the one that I use to pull up the front of the glider at launch which incurs a reasonable amount of strain. As I get better at it, it becomes less and I am not doing 5 hours of ground handling a day which took its toll back when I was a rank amateur instead of just an amateur. I decided to take a little break from the water which was sage, but my little on camera antics reminded me to be more careful (pain). I am at a point that I can generally pick waves that don't suck, generally get up on them, generally follow them along and steer and do all that good stuff. I've hit the pause button on my surfing career. This makes getting sponsored pretty difficult which was my plan to keep me out of a job until quite recently ;)

I haven't had a beer since labour day. The hard part is still the heat and camaraderie. A man can only drink so much pop, water and fruit juices during the day while folks are laughing and bonding with each other over a Bintang (tasty and cheap local brew).

I am hesitant to update on flossing cuz thats kind of trivial, but in the spirit of Garth, I need to come clean (haha). I have some work to do to insert it into my daily routine and have only about a 50% adoption rate at the moment.

Flying. I love flying, but I am coming off a 2 day hiatus for physical and mental reasons. I really didn't understand what happened during the diabolically bad session which kind of scared me. Being dragged around is one thing, flying fast 1 foot off the ground is quite another. Its surprisingly speedy and there are a lot of hard things like people and bamboo huts to be found that low to the ground. "Mentor" is the only adequate word for Basil (which is not his real name - Garrit bwahahahahahaha). He is a retired guy who is staying at my hotel and I think one of the best pilots here. He is very giving of knowledge and he has a wealth of experience to draw upon. We talked a lot about it and I understood better why things broke down the way that they did. Mostly he helped to fill in some missing information about cause and effect, aerodynamics and smrts.

Two days ago I had my best day of flying yet. The glider lifted off like it was carefully placed above my head by a kind and caring lover (the kind that actually loves you). It was smooth and gentle and as close to ideal as I have had so far. My second launch has been regarded as 95%, but I have a careful optimism that I am back on track. I flew for a total of 2 fantastic hours.

[EDITORS NOTE: Today I also had a meaningful day and made a few mistakes, but I'm generally happy with the process. After my first couple of hours of flying, the sky was crimson with inconsiderateness and the landing zone was covered in peoples crap. I was frustrated, the radio wasn't working and in my haste to get on the ground and apply sunscreen to my nose I kind of pushed it. A terrible landing, but a good learning experience. Sometimes Basil over does it on the "mentoring", although he had some good advice today. "If you are so frustrated with the BS that went on here today and so eager to get on the ground, you might get onto the ground a LOT faster than you intend. Take a ride down the coast and breath. Don't come back until you remember why you are here". I landed pissed off about getting cutoff (a million times in every which way possible), went and sat by myself for a while and then was back at it. I did a few rounds of approaches and took four and a half out of five good landings with no input from my instructor. A good finish. Learning learning learning. 16 or 17'ish hours to date. I should make my 20 goal before I wrench myself away from the hill and onto the traveling thang again.]

Economics.

Once I left Kuta, the economics of this country got great. By my earlier definition of "living" I could easily pull it off for $10 /day. My room is $6, 2 beer at a cafe costs $1.25, Internet is either free or $0.30 / half hour, an awesome rice and meat cornucopia of flavour from any random stall is $1.00 and more incidentals than you could shake a stick at rounds it up to $10. The problem is that my requirements have changed slightly. I need a motorbike ($3) and I need to feed that bike to the bank breaking tune of $0.50 in petrol daily. I am no longer a heathen and beer is the work of the devil, but if I drink wine then they are "fermented in a stained bathtub, doubling as a toilet for a family of 13" tasting and $3 per. Another mango lassi please. Yum! a breakfast omelet. You get the picture. Renting gear at the hill is obscenely priced in comparison which makes my quest for living on the cheap a farce anyways, but I pretend that that isn't happening and therefore don't need to account for it. If I am honest, I am probably spending 20 bucks and living like a king. Well, my crown got knocked a bit askew last night during a fight with the most enormous cockroach that I have ever seen, but thats neither here nor there. Why is it then that I have spent so much money while here? Right... the thing thats not happening. I have adopted an expensive sport to learn and dream of every night. I do... every night I am flying for at least part of it. If I am awake, I instant replay every good and bad flight. One night I woke up flaring. Too funny.]

Food.

I haven't talked much about the food on this trip overall, but it has been (almost) universally good. Food needs to meet one of two criterion for it to be eaten: it has to either smell good; or be spicy as hell. There are only two meals that I've been burned on. One was a gut wrenching chicken surprise in Thailand (the surprise being food poisoning) and the other was a nasi goring in Malaysia when all of those tasty looking little bits of meat ended up having eyes and tails (deep fried anchovies - who knew?). I couldn't get over the fishy taste or all of those beady little eyes staring me down. I hate anchovies.

There is a stall across the road from my hotel, unfortunately named "Mercury Seafood". Kind of like the shoe stores called "Athletes Foot". Well intentioned; poor connotation. I try to eat there often and have either the chicken with chili sauce, rice and vegetables or the whole fried fish with the same ($1.00 or $1.25 - yes this meal cost me $1.25). I have a running joke with the guys there that they can't make it hot enough for me to not eat. So far I am winning, but a few days ago it was neck and neck, a laugh fest as beads of sweat ran down my face while I continued to deride their chili infusing abilities.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: I am sinning a bit. There is a place a few kms down the road which makes an amazing pizza and has free wireless Internet. You can sit there and watch awesome surf videos and catch up on whats going on. Arghhh 3 days running.]

Dreamland.

Aptly named, there is a beach 10 or 15 minutes down the road that is kick ass. It costs 50 cents to get into it and that is money well spent. The first day I went down I was pretty excited as I thought it mightn't not be a bad surfing destination for me. The next few times that I went it was pretty fierce (no camera). The entire coast is being raked with some heavy surf so I hear. One time I decided to go swimming for a bit and boy did I get demolished. You wade out to waste deep water and then a set comes in and the rip almost knocks you forward off your ass. Suddenly you are standing on the beach again and you can look left and catch a crazy view of surfers doing their kamikaze thing on 10-12 foot faces at what seems to be eye level. Then you realize that 6 feet of churning white water is coming in fast. If you jump too soon, you end up dragged across the beach (the best case. Worst case is the incoming surf nails your legs and you do a subsequent handstand). If you jump too late then you end up.. well, dragged across the beach. Lets just say that I had to buy Q tips to get all of the sand out of my EAR! which still hasn't cleared. I'm still picking bits of sand out of weird places. Definitely the biggest surf that I have been swimming in. Good times.

Travels.

Crap. My 25 day, cross Indonesia tour is kind of screwed. I dropped Java off the Itinerary a while back and now if I want to keep my connector flights to Bangkok I have to leave... tomorrow. Thats not gonna work. SO. I am leaving October 1st before my Visa runs out and I still plan to spend some time in Sumatra. You can get stamped in and out for $150 (before negotiation) to get another 30 days here, but I've drawn a line in the recently poured concrete. There is too much that I want to see and do, no matter how cohesive I feel while flying and surfing. Fluidity knows bounds. Also complicating is the fact that if I don't leave now and sort my passport issues out then I might be stuck in whatever country I find myself in on Oct 21st (6 months before my passport expires). If I were a betting man, I would say I would be in Bali for another 3 days. My instructor is taking a day off and wants to go flying with me in Chandi Desa and there is some surfing that I want to do to leave on a good note. I'm happy, but every day that I spend here I am blowing more cash on paragliding when I could be seeing more of an inspiring country. It is tough to balance. Sumatra is also my most likely target for a $5 day... AND I don't want Sumatra to become my new Burma (an area that I haven't been to yet, despite repeated attempts to do so). Will keep you updated.... If its December 1st and I am still talking trash about people cutting me off at the hill don't think any less of me. It is, after all, "recently" poured concrete.