So at the moment...
I'm at a wooden table in a coffee house in Luaong Prabong, Laos. It's 9:45pm. Jen and Bradon are chilling at some lounge where this cool guy from Seattle is DJing. I'm tuckered out from last night... Convinced I was the pirate captain of our moto-taxi, I yelled "ARRGH" and tried overtaking another moto-taxi as we were driving down the road: I fell and rolled on the street bruising my hip, cutting my arm and head, but I am totally fine today. Happy days!
Today we swam in the most incredible waterfalls: jumped-off one and rope-swinged another. Tomorrow we go to Vangvieng for serious playtime with 12 people met along the way. We'll be floating down a river in inner-tubes, and the river is lined with 'float-up' bars with massive rope-swings and water-slides. Promise to be careful :). Finally got our laptop fixed so this little site should be getting love!
And the stories continue... BALI
We tore up Kuta. Top club was Sky Garden— 3-stories of boom with massive shutterless windows opening onto a jamming boulavard. Feel the most amazing breeze whoosh in. Once it rained buckets and downpour blew right inside the club, and we danced hours with this group of 5 Aussie birds sprinkles keeping cool.
Go-Go Girls wear the most outlandish outfits and once they pretended to be sexy Jetsons dancing around Bradon for 10 whole minutes— in the laser lights they were an aqua-pink space ship. The six of us danced together for quite some time, taught me a move where I face the girl pretending to be play a video game while she does the robot.
Awesome.
Third night we catch wind that one of our favorite djs, Sasha, is spinning at this big club in Seminyak (the posh area). Awesome. Pre-drinks at Sky Garden then high tail it over. Arrive at 10pm amidst tropical storm— heavy clouds are blocking the heaven, rain's screaming down, palm frawns are flying, streets are littered with leaves and whole branches, signs blowing over! No lightning but you can imagine the electricity! Randomly bump into these cool Saudi cats from the night before, their jackets are pulled up over their heads but Bradon and I just laugh and joke in the downpour.
Walk in to a bumping DJ but the place is dead: Sasha doesn't go on 'til 2am. We lounge the bar like the Rat Pack throwing back Manhattans and dollar beers. Later, we peruse the place and come across the craziest thing— a 50ft bungee tower over the pool on the patio. Speachless I wanna run to the desk but the floor out there is tile and rainy so I do this buzzing Charlie Chaplan scurry and barely avoid slips. Waltz in and wow they offer options! 1. regular hop-off, 2. run and fly off, 3. ride a bike off, or 4. ride a moped off, and the storm's worsened! Hoooo doggy! The moped one actually sounds lame so I book the first three. Oh KAY! Elevator up and no kidding the tower is friggin swaying, and I'm 50ft into the black night with torrents pissing all over my head.
Now, jumping 400ft from a suspended gondola bare-ass in New Zealand was liberating, fun, and exciting. I'm feeling none of that. Perhaps it's those dollar beers, or perhaps the rounds bought by the Saudis, or mabye, it's the gnarly wind scalding my face, or the raggedy dish-towell wrapped around my ankles, or the crowd of clubbers surrounding the pool below, or even more, perhaps it's that I can see the bottom of that damn pool and can see how shallow it is, at any rate, I'm nervous and jittery and yelling down at everything and nothing trying to whistle out all my angst. Then the bungee guy smirks the countdown 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... and all that energy becomes pure adrenaline and wooshes up the esophogus in a mad crazed laugh of exhileration and HUAH off I plunge. My mind blanks; my eyes water. In a deep exhale my soul flows out and I'm corpseless everything and nothing, smiling oh so effortlessly.
The next jump is similar, only by that time Sasha was spinning which only added to the glow. Took a 10ft running start and did a swan dive. Third jump I'm strapped to a chrome bike, which was pointless aside from the initial frontflip, but it's cool to say I've bungee jumped on a bike, I guess. After the third jump, I stand on the landing plank and dive backward into the pool, then just float there underwater twisting and rolling to the muffled untz untz of Sasha.
On my way up for the bike bungee!
Climb out and stumble into the bar, shoes saturated and squeaky. A Saudi cat puts his arm around me and bellows out “YO MAAN! Dat shits gunna get you sum pussy twonight MAAN! Yeahaha les GO!” buys me a drink and off we slide to the dance floor and sure enough the girls love it; but, I think they were all prostitutes because wow were they friendly. Sasha was amazing and KILLED it: we dance til 5am.
Wake the next day and realize just how dodgy Kuta beach is. Bradon's out riding a fun little wave when he spots a pale-white fish slowly flopping sideways. He accidentally hits it with his board and watches it writhe on the surface. It was obviously dying. Then he sees a dead seagull and decides to paddle in and never surf that beach again. Kuta then became our home-base for the plethora of OTHER famous breaks in the south. There wasn't much swell but man were those waves fun.
Hands down our number one break was Uluwatuu a.k.a. Ulu. Even when the rest of the island was flat and all the surf-tourists complained about the let-down, this place was breaking 3-4ft perfect A-frames. To top it off, you have to walk through this lava-rock cave then paddle through teal 75 degree water in an alley of even more lave-rock... the surf could be terrible and still be worth the paddle out because it's all that beautiful. Furthermore, the scrawny local kids, who are at most 10 years old, are practically pros and bust arials, ollies, and shove-its like nothing. The place is incredible. Let the pics do the talking.
Brado enjoying the scenery
Ulu gets its name from the nearby temple, which is the second most famous on the island. A massive spiritual place on the tip of a cliff with Bali monkeys running around. For a dollar you get a bag of bananas and they run right up and you toss the fruit and they catch it in their little paws and crawl off into the trees. Aggressive little guys though. You gotta take off your shades and anyything snatchable, the little furballs love swiping everything. A guide takes you through the place carrying a bamboo stick to swat em case they get too 'friendly.'
Monks there built swimming pools for the monkeys, and in our exit we get the opportunity to see one full of action. Monkeys climb up bordering trees and splash in just like humans. I run up snapping photos and hear these deep squeeky grunts. Turned around and sure enough a massive male was giving his dipstick to a female. Haha I get a photo and then he screams at me showing huge fangs and runs toward. I yelp and remember not to run away or show fear but this guy is HUGE and so scary. I mean, if a stray dog attacks it's cool, just punt him to the next country. But a monkey? He'll just grab your leg and gnaw off your foot! at least that's what I envisioned. I had no idea what to do. Look back down the hill at Bradon and the guide but they're busting up, not that they think it's funny me getting attacked, but I must have looked ridiculous so frightened of a little furball. Then a small monkey pounces on my shoulder and I turn pale thinking it's a Dim Mak, but he just wants to smell me, they do that. Papa Smurf is still flexing and yelling when ANOTHER small one runs up to the female and has his way, and, well, that ambitious little fella saved my life because El Jeffe then spun around and squeeled loud chasing him clear across the temple, and my life was saved. Phew.
The photo that almost cost me my life!
On the way back to Kuta, Made points out the location of the 2003 bombing: an empty lot where the club once stood and across the street is a big memorial for all the innocent victims. His cheeks relax disdain and his head twists left to right. We thought the bombing was to discourage Westernization but Made enlightenes: Indonesia is primarily Muslim; Bali is the only Hindu island; there is a violent group of Indonesians who envision a Muslim nation... the heinous statement was largely targeted at the Balinese. To think people would want to kill such kindness! Wow is our outlook changing.
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2 comments:
i love reading this thing.
-brian koob
Way to live guys. Miss you.
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