There aren’t enough words to describe the jubilation I am currently feeling. After another lovely day at the beach, we made it back to town to go for a dress fitting at one of the three tailors we have currently employed to make us garments here in Hoi An, Vietnam. This is a place infamous for its tailors and ability to custom make anything you wish at absurd (cheap) prices. However, even if it did not have this as a draw, I am sure it would be on the map with its picturesque streets, French colonial architecture, leafy rivers, and beautiful beach.
Before we got here, Jordan had been saying she wanted to restrain herself from going crazy on dresses and I thought I would have no problem. I figured I had matured and would not blow my money on dresses and shirts and anything else that crossed my path. Famous last words (though probably not surprising) as I have truly gone crazy. I will leave Hoi An with double the wardrobe I had when I arrived. Four dresses and three shirts later, I am arranging my schedule around my three tailors and the different fittings to ensure each and every article of clothing lives up to its fabulous potential.
Spinning this positive into a negative, I am ready to justify my actions. First off, the cost of this splurge is perhaps 1/5 of what it would be in America. Second off, I am completely exhausted by the thought of wearing my current clothes a second longer. I thought it would be completely natural to wear the same thing day in and day out for five months as my family and friends often point out I lack complete fashion sense and tend to look like a bag lady.
The truth of the matter is that I was aching to wear a pretty dress. I still am even though I am wearing one of my creations. I will hold back on wearing my new clothes too often as I want them to still be fabulous when I touch back down in America, but I think a new chapter in my life has been created. I no longer want to dress in the same old dirty white t-shirts of my youth. It is time to dress as a naturally fabulous lady should (and yes, I am referring to myself as that naturally fabulous lady).
You might be wondering how I got here as the last post I made was taking place in Cambodia and the shared taxi. Perhaps you are even more perplexed as the last picture you saw of me I was dressed as an Asian pageant queen (note: those pictures were a goof and we did not wear them on the streets).
The mini computer and blogspot.com are not exactly the best of friends as every single time I attempt to post a blog it gets deleted and I become discouraged. I am not quite sure why this happens and my apologies for not being a more reliant blogger.
As it happens, we made it to Vietnam uneventfully and spent a few days rowing along the Mekong Delta. Vietnam is a gorgeous country and if it weren’t for silly things like visa requirements I could stay here forever. We also made it back to the beach at Nha Trang to enjoy monstrous waves and delicious smoothies. In fact, we spent an extra day at the beach and I am not sure if it was due to the landscape or the guy running the smoothie bar near our beach chairs. He was an incredibly flamboyant man who was very insistent we try his uber-healthy drinks.
When it was finally time to move on to Hoi An, we boarded another overnight bus and prepared for an adventure. Most people told us to go for the bottom level seats as they were more comfortable and one had less of a chance of falling out. I was imagining overnight sleeper cars in India with bunks, so when we got on the bus and realized it would be multiple levels of reclining chairs I was surprised (which I should stop being at this point in my Asian adventure).
The woman in charge gave us plastic baggies to put our shoes in and pointed us towards the back of the bus. She pointed towards a section of seating at the way back that looked more like one large mattress vs. the five individual chairs it was supposed to be. We attempted to steal two seats that looked more comfortable, but she quickly thwarted that plan and pointed us to the loft-like area that was more like a two-feet high alcove. We were about to complain when we realized the light bulb above one more “comfortable seat” was leaking water or some unknown substance. While we thought the experience would be rough, it turned out to be fairly comfortable. Good thing we were off to luxuries like tailor made clothing and could have happy dreams on the overnight bus until we got there…
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Shared Taxis
In case you haven't noticed, I love to talk about the different modes of transportation available in Asia. The other day we decided to head to Phnom Penh from Kampot (site of Bokor Mountain death hike). The fastest option would be to take the infamous Cambodian share taxi. This includes three people sitting across the front bench seats and four people crammed into the back. Beside the space issue, it is supposed to be relatively pleasant as you get air conditioning and the driver goes so fast the time is cut in half compared to the bus.
So when the 1982 Toyota Camry rolled up, it brought back fond memories as a couple of my friends had similar cars. I also figured it wouldn't be so crowded as there was no middle seat -- Imagine my surprise when I realized that the 7th passenger would share the driver's seat. Yes, my taxi driver sat on top of someone for two and a half hours while driving to Phnom Penh. If you don't believe me, check out Jordan's blog for photo confirmation.
Now, my mom always warned me about the dangers of driving while wearing flip flops as the prospect of one falling off and getting stuck under the pedals is quite risky -- but what about an actual foot accidently getting wedged underneath the pedal? The two guys were so squished together that Jordan had to ask me which one was actually driving.
Either way, the major downfall of this seating arrangement turned out to be the fact that the additional passenger in the front completely blocked the air conditioning. The ride itself was rather pleasant until the very end when the heat finally got to me and the sweat began.
Good thing there was plenty to look forward to in Phnom Penh. We would be meeting up with a friend of Jordan's from college. She showed us a wonderful side of the city (the expat side) which included sangria at the Foreign Correspondent's Club, synchronized Asian dancing/aerobics in the park, Cambodian barbecue, and slow line dancing (ask me for a demonstration when I return).
We also managed to educate ourselves by visiting some of the infamous prison and killing sites of the Khmer Rouge. All in all it was a very unique experience and the thought of leaving Cambodia a little sad. I think this is definitely a place I want to return to. I am addicted to their food, dancing, markets, and landscape.
So when the 1982 Toyota Camry rolled up, it brought back fond memories as a couple of my friends had similar cars. I also figured it wouldn't be so crowded as there was no middle seat -- Imagine my surprise when I realized that the 7th passenger would share the driver's seat. Yes, my taxi driver sat on top of someone for two and a half hours while driving to Phnom Penh. If you don't believe me, check out Jordan's blog for photo confirmation.
Now, my mom always warned me about the dangers of driving while wearing flip flops as the prospect of one falling off and getting stuck under the pedals is quite risky -- but what about an actual foot accidently getting wedged underneath the pedal? The two guys were so squished together that Jordan had to ask me which one was actually driving.
Either way, the major downfall of this seating arrangement turned out to be the fact that the additional passenger in the front completely blocked the air conditioning. The ride itself was rather pleasant until the very end when the heat finally got to me and the sweat began.
Good thing there was plenty to look forward to in Phnom Penh. We would be meeting up with a friend of Jordan's from college. She showed us a wonderful side of the city (the expat side) which included sangria at the Foreign Correspondent's Club, synchronized Asian dancing/aerobics in the park, Cambodian barbecue, and slow line dancing (ask me for a demonstration when I return).
We also managed to educate ourselves by visiting some of the infamous prison and killing sites of the Khmer Rouge. All in all it was a very unique experience and the thought of leaving Cambodia a little sad. I think this is definitely a place I want to return to. I am addicted to their food, dancing, markets, and landscape.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Perspiration and Dump Trucks
My teeth are still chattering from my first experience riding in the back of a truck. It was not even your normal pick-up truck, but today I went on a trek and tour to see on old French resort on Bokor Mountain, and my favorite part included piling into a utility/construction-like/dump truck and riding in the back.
There were four different times we were asked to pile on the truck so my story will tell you about my day and each glorious ride on the truck.
We started off the day relatively tired as we had stayed up later than usual playing cards and hydrating with our fellow hostelers. However, after a fresh smoothie with granola, we felt ready to rumble and hopped in a van with about 10 other people. We were under the impression there would be a walk through the woods to the resort and then the car would drop us off someplace else for a walk back. So imagine my surprise (but not too surprised after all this is Asia…) when we were asked to hop out of the Mercedes Benz van and instead hop into a dump truck.
I had a half moment where I thought maybe this was unsafe, but I have seen people riding in pick up trucks and also the road seemed pretty nice. So I shrugged my shoulders, looked around, and hopped up. After the first bend in the road, it turned into pebbles instead of pavement. Still, not so worried, this is Asia. However, leaning against the truck on one side was not very comfortable so I made a note to myself to change up my position on the way back.
We were then left off on the side of the road and asked to follow a park ranger (who happened to be trekking through the hills with us and carrying a bayonet). At the beginning of the hike, I thought to myself, hey this seems easier than the last trek, but of course… famous last words.
The vertical trek took us straight up rock embankments and hanging onto bamboo trees trying to hurtle up the steep and dusty climb. Given the humidity and the high temperature, it was no surprise to look around and see every Westerner bathing in sweat. I don’t think I have ever seen so much sweat in my entire life. At one point, we climbed a set of wooden ladders to reach an overlook and at the top, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and someone asked if it was over. One guide told us we were not even halfway. So off we set again.
By the time we finished the morning trek, I was so excited to sit down that it didn’t quite matter sitting down actually meant climbing onto the large dumpster truck again. I hopped in, carefully made the decision to sit in the back corner, and smiled when one guide, Danny, told me to hold on. After the first bump, I was glad that I was in the corner and could grip two sides of the truck as we bopped along. There were a couple of times were my bum bounced about 5 inches off the ground which made me grip even harder. We drove up the rest of the mountain in the back of the truck, which took about 30 minutes and was a magnificently harrowing experience. You can see my delight in this experience with this picture:
So once we got up to the hill station/French resort, I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. Although there was a “danger, no entry” sign, this didn’t stop our guide from leading us through the front gate. We were able to explore most of the buildings by ourselves as our guide told us, “No worries - no landmines here” and left us to wander around. The area more or less consisted of old, run-down buildings, but it is easy to imagine the way things used to be. The main resort building was perched on the side of the cliff with multiple terraces and balconies. When you looked out over the cliff, you could see the jungle down below stretching out until the shoreline. Glorious.
As we wandered around, everyone kept asking each other -- “Do you really think they will have us walk back the way we came?” and “Oh my word, that is so steep, how are we going to get down?” Even my guide told me he wasn’t looking forward to the way down. I questioned him whether or not we could take the truck down, but he told me it was too unsafe because rocks might fall down on top of us. Well, let me tell you, I was not expecting that answer but at least he was honest with me.
So off we went for the third truck ride! Once again, I ended up sitting in the back corner as I felt most comfortable being able to hold on for dear life on two sides. I could also tell I would be sore later on -- more due to the truck than the trek.
I will be honest though, going down the trail was a lot easier than I expected. After all, it is much easier to slide down a mountain than it is to climb up. When I doubted my ability to climb down without falling head first, I just sat and slid down. There was still an exorbitant amount of sweat but other than that, the downhill ride was uneventful. When we reached the bottom again and saw the truck, I was so happy that I decided to be among the people standing behind the cab of the truck. It was quite lovely with the wind blowing in my hair. The perfect ending to a perfect trek.
Disclaimer: I do not endorse dangerous activities and please do not attempt to ride in the back of a dumpster truck (unless you are in rural Cambodia).
There were four different times we were asked to pile on the truck so my story will tell you about my day and each glorious ride on the truck.
We started off the day relatively tired as we had stayed up later than usual playing cards and hydrating with our fellow hostelers. However, after a fresh smoothie with granola, we felt ready to rumble and hopped in a van with about 10 other people. We were under the impression there would be a walk through the woods to the resort and then the car would drop us off someplace else for a walk back. So imagine my surprise (but not too surprised after all this is Asia…) when we were asked to hop out of the Mercedes Benz van and instead hop into a dump truck.
I had a half moment where I thought maybe this was unsafe, but I have seen people riding in pick up trucks and also the road seemed pretty nice. So I shrugged my shoulders, looked around, and hopped up. After the first bend in the road, it turned into pebbles instead of pavement. Still, not so worried, this is Asia. However, leaning against the truck on one side was not very comfortable so I made a note to myself to change up my position on the way back.
We were then left off on the side of the road and asked to follow a park ranger (who happened to be trekking through the hills with us and carrying a bayonet). At the beginning of the hike, I thought to myself, hey this seems easier than the last trek, but of course… famous last words.
The vertical trek took us straight up rock embankments and hanging onto bamboo trees trying to hurtle up the steep and dusty climb. Given the humidity and the high temperature, it was no surprise to look around and see every Westerner bathing in sweat. I don’t think I have ever seen so much sweat in my entire life. At one point, we climbed a set of wooden ladders to reach an overlook and at the top, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and someone asked if it was over. One guide told us we were not even halfway. So off we set again.
By the time we finished the morning trek, I was so excited to sit down that it didn’t quite matter sitting down actually meant climbing onto the large dumpster truck again. I hopped in, carefully made the decision to sit in the back corner, and smiled when one guide, Danny, told me to hold on. After the first bump, I was glad that I was in the corner and could grip two sides of the truck as we bopped along. There were a couple of times were my bum bounced about 5 inches off the ground which made me grip even harder. We drove up the rest of the mountain in the back of the truck, which took about 30 minutes and was a magnificently harrowing experience. You can see my delight in this experience with this picture:
So once we got up to the hill station/French resort, I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. Although there was a “danger, no entry” sign, this didn’t stop our guide from leading us through the front gate. We were able to explore most of the buildings by ourselves as our guide told us, “No worries - no landmines here” and left us to wander around. The area more or less consisted of old, run-down buildings, but it is easy to imagine the way things used to be. The main resort building was perched on the side of the cliff with multiple terraces and balconies. When you looked out over the cliff, you could see the jungle down below stretching out until the shoreline. Glorious.
As we wandered around, everyone kept asking each other -- “Do you really think they will have us walk back the way we came?” and “Oh my word, that is so steep, how are we going to get down?” Even my guide told me he wasn’t looking forward to the way down. I questioned him whether or not we could take the truck down, but he told me it was too unsafe because rocks might fall down on top of us. Well, let me tell you, I was not expecting that answer but at least he was honest with me.
So off we went for the third truck ride! Once again, I ended up sitting in the back corner as I felt most comfortable being able to hold on for dear life on two sides. I could also tell I would be sore later on -- more due to the truck than the trek.
I will be honest though, going down the trail was a lot easier than I expected. After all, it is much easier to slide down a mountain than it is to climb up. When I doubted my ability to climb down without falling head first, I just sat and slid down. There was still an exorbitant amount of sweat but other than that, the downhill ride was uneventful. When we reached the bottom again and saw the truck, I was so happy that I decided to be among the people standing behind the cab of the truck. It was quite lovely with the wind blowing in my hair. The perfect ending to a perfect trek.
Disclaimer: I do not endorse dangerous activities and please do not attempt to ride in the back of a dumpster truck (unless you are in rural Cambodia).
Monday, March 29, 2010
Musings of a Blog Writer
Well, I thought I had been a fairly consistent blogger but I have had quite the number of disgruntled comments from followers who think I am slacking on the job. My apologies to you, but also let me express my gratitude. I have high aspirations of travel writing especially after seeing an article on CNN: "Honeymoon Tester is Latest Dream Job." And it is imperative I get back into top blogging shape.
Jordan and I think after our Balinese experience we could be the perfect candidates. We are highly adaptable and have no qualms with a romantic couples massage. And we even have our own travel blogs! It might not be as informative as some other blogs, but hopefully, it is more amusing.
In honor of my travel writing dreams, I thought I would include some random travel musings:
-- In India, it was easier to ignore the masses shouting at me from across the road. However, here in Southeast Asia, that is a touch more difficult. More because the names they call out are so hilarious, I can't help but stop in my tracks and laugh out loud. We are called "sir," "mister," "lady," and "darling" among other things. I find it especially amusing when Jordan is called "mister." I am not sure why, but I think it has something to do with the fact that when we met at Chimney Corners Camp all her campers called her "daddy."
--International Drivers Licenses. Apparently these are necessary for renting motorbikes. If caught without one, expect to pay a hefty bribe (yes, bribe -- not fine). Thank you, Mr. Moped Rental Man for telling us this in advance of Bali road trip 2010. Good thing the angels are on our side because we didn't have any issues. This however has deterred us from future rentals (probably much to the delight of our parents). We now stick to bicycles. Even though the last one I rented near Angkor Wat was half broken and way to tall for me.
By the way, just because driving occurs on the right side of the road in Cambodia doesn't mean it is easier to navigate the streets on a bicycle.
--Pajama sets. This is apparently the latest trend for Cambodian women. You see everyone wearing them from the Disney character to fluorescent florals. I often think of what I would like to invest in (if I wasn't currently blowing my savings on curry and beer) and I think a shop specializing in pajamas would be quite successful. Think of all the marketing slogans for an outfit you can wear day and night, on the beach or on a bike!
Well, I had more musings, but sadly this site closed down on me and I lost most of them. Double the sadness, I was planning on posting this a few days ago but then after the crash we had to leave our hotel in Siem Reap (think Angkor Wat) and head to.. you guessed it... MORE BEACHES!
So as an Easter gift, I will post this and then post another tomorrow.
Disclaimer: As of this moment, I do not in fact think I will seriously pursue the travel writer career, if someone offers me a book deal to detail my fabulous life... well that is another story.
Recent milestone: Officially filled up my passport. I no longer have free spaces for visas. Hopefully, I won't get deported. Worst case scenario, bribery might work.
Jordan and I think after our Balinese experience we could be the perfect candidates. We are highly adaptable and have no qualms with a romantic couples massage. And we even have our own travel blogs! It might not be as informative as some other blogs, but hopefully, it is more amusing.
In honor of my travel writing dreams, I thought I would include some random travel musings:
-- In India, it was easier to ignore the masses shouting at me from across the road. However, here in Southeast Asia, that is a touch more difficult. More because the names they call out are so hilarious, I can't help but stop in my tracks and laugh out loud. We are called "sir," "mister," "lady," and "darling" among other things. I find it especially amusing when Jordan is called "mister." I am not sure why, but I think it has something to do with the fact that when we met at Chimney Corners Camp all her campers called her "daddy."
--International Drivers Licenses. Apparently these are necessary for renting motorbikes. If caught without one, expect to pay a hefty bribe (yes, bribe -- not fine). Thank you, Mr. Moped Rental Man for telling us this in advance of Bali road trip 2010. Good thing the angels are on our side because we didn't have any issues. This however has deterred us from future rentals (probably much to the delight of our parents). We now stick to bicycles. Even though the last one I rented near Angkor Wat was half broken and way to tall for me.
By the way, just because driving occurs on the right side of the road in Cambodia doesn't mean it is easier to navigate the streets on a bicycle.
--Pajama sets. This is apparently the latest trend for Cambodian women. You see everyone wearing them from the Disney character to fluorescent florals. I often think of what I would like to invest in (if I wasn't currently blowing my savings on curry and beer) and I think a shop specializing in pajamas would be quite successful. Think of all the marketing slogans for an outfit you can wear day and night, on the beach or on a bike!
Well, I had more musings, but sadly this site closed down on me and I lost most of them. Double the sadness, I was planning on posting this a few days ago but then after the crash we had to leave our hotel in Siem Reap (think Angkor Wat) and head to.. you guessed it... MORE BEACHES!
So as an Easter gift, I will post this and then post another tomorrow.
Disclaimer: As of this moment, I do not in fact think I will seriously pursue the travel writer career, if someone offers me a book deal to detail my fabulous life... well that is another story.
Recent milestone: Officially filled up my passport. I no longer have free spaces for visas. Hopefully, I won't get deported. Worst case scenario, bribery might work.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Our Balinese Honeymoon
And now for the first guest blog writer ever featured on International Steph... Jordan Swaim. Jordan did such a beautiful job capturing our romantic getaway that I can't help by share it with you. Here is what she has to say:
Shelli and Papa Jimbo receive a gold star this week haven given me the best 25th birthday present I could have asked for, the chance to indulge in Bali’s resort scene. And oh how we’ve indulged! Steph and I have been gallivanting across this beautiful island on a moped, hopping from one beach town to the next and enjoying what I’ve come to refer to as our Balinese Honeymoon. I’ve perfected my skills as a passenger and Sherpa (as holder of our bags) leaving Stephanie free to drive like the wind.
We arrived in Kuta around 11:00 PM and it felt very, ‘bright lights, big city.‘ An enormous McDonalds sign read, “Welcome Home“ and I quickly realized that we were in the tourist capital of all of Indonesia. We hunted down backpacker accommodations (saving our indulgence for later in the week) and grabbed a quick bite before checking email and getting to bed. The next day we rented lounge chairs on Kuta’s main beach and enjoyed a lovely day of sun and surf. We ate at a beach-side stall for lunch and had the best Gado-Gado (boiled vegetables, tempe, and sticky rice in a peanut sauce) that we’ve had to date. The vendor prepared the peanut sauce right in front of us with a mortar and pestle and apparently, brown sugar, chilies, water, and peanuts= perfection.
That night we attempted to go out but fatigue from the sun made for a sad state of affairs. We were in bed by 9:45. Steph and I are worried that we might not be any fun anymore so we’ve vowed to party it up and maybe even go clubbing when we return to Kuta at the end of the week.
On to our honeymoon! Steph skillfully navigated our way out of Kuta and onto the main road that would bring us across the mountainous innards of Bali. The roads twisted and turned up into the hills as it got increasingly misty. We saw chubby roadside monkeys and enjoyed the greenery and Hindu temples along the way. We stopped to take photos at Danau Bayan (a pretty lake covered in mist) and were sold some delicious fresh strawberries. I was so excited to see the fresh fruit that I shoved them into my mouth with barely a rinse. They were bright red and simply scrumptious…and I didn’t get dysentery!
Our first stop was Lovina, a destination known for its black sandy beaches, snorkeling and dolphin spotting. We found a very nice resort with gorgeous landscaping, arbors of flowers over the stone pathways ,and outdoor showers. Our honeymoon suite came with air conditioning and though we slept in twin beds, I still felt like a newlywed!
The next morning we went on a sunrise dolphin watch. It was very romantic but we didn’t see a single dolphin 
From Lovina we drove to Amed and had a bungalow on the water. We were tormented by roosters but had a nice time. I’ve always had a love for animals but I had some violent thoughts involving BB guns and the demise of some vocal roosters. Riding into Lovina we had a minor incident involving our moped and met a nice man who had pulled over to offer his assistance. He invited us back to the restaurant he owned and we had dinner and we befriended his wife. She offered to cook us a traditional Balinese lunch off-menu the following day. We gleefully returned the next day to quite the spread, my favorite being a decadent black rice pudding. It was warm and sweet and topped with coconut milk. Yummmmm!
That evening we had a couples massage on the beach. Our beds were lying next to one another, so close that we could have held hands. I wasn’t really interested though because I had to focus on not drooling too much in my state of extreme relaxation. I got a bit self-conscious and downright annoyed when another tourist started taking photos of our intimate moment. We were lying, half nude and covered with oil and I didn’t really appreciate the audience. But I couldn’t stay mad long because I was so relaxed.
Now we’ve moved along to Candidasa. We’re at the fanciest hotel yet and we have a stunning infinite pool overlooking the water. I hope our honeymoon continues in our final days of island bliss.
You can check out more from this fabulous travel writer at http://fpdiaries.wordpress.com/
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The Halfway Point
It is hard to believe that my nearly five month adventure has found its halfway point. Two months and however many days in, I find myself taking inventory of the things I have done and the things I still want to do. I have traveled solo around the craziest country I have ever been, taken countless overnight travel adventures, tried new cuisines (though have yet to eat any of the fried bugs that are supposedly infamous in this region). I have met some fabulous people I would love to see again and seen some incredible landscapes I might never again have the chance to return to. I feel I have seen so much but still have goals I wish to accomplish including riding an elephant, more volunteering, clubbing in Bali, and get more pages for my passport. I also have yet to send a single postcard, even though I have written a few… start checking your mailbox in a month or maybe I will just hand it to you when I get home…
I have managed to take over 500 pictures and stay relatively within budget. And except for a minor blip in India, I have stayed relatively healthy and definitely malaria free. For a classy Jersey lady with a clear memory of being twelve years old and never thinking she would leave the country (maybe Mexico), I am impressed. Only two more continents left -- Antarctica and Australia -- though I have managed to get about 2 hours away from each. Interestingly enough, this does not make me want to live abroad as I previously thought but am more convinced then ever on where I want to end up… within the continental U.S.
So enjoy the new round of pictures. The next half of my trip will see visits to Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, and Northern Thailand. Expect more elephants, more jungle treks, less motorbike “incidents” and whatever else we happen to find.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Dolphins are Stupid, but Road Trips are Quite Nice
Waking up for a sunrise cruise around Bali to see the dolphins sounds like a fabulous idea unless in fact at the end of the two hours you end up with no dolphin sightings (but you have seen someone catch a really big fish and then found a dead dog on the beach).
Okay, in reality -- the “dolphin” trip was not that bad -- the sky was positively gorgeous as the sun came up over the hills and spread across the ocean. I always send out a quick whisper to the angels and thank them for inspiring me to get a camera that can try and capture the beauty at moments like that. The purples and pinks in the sky were unlike anything I had ever seen before. And, even though two hours were spent speeding back and forth in a semi-safe boat, the final hour culminated in a snorkeling trip where I saw some incredible fishies and blue starfish. I never even knew starfish could be blue!
Luckily, there are (supposedly) no sharks in Bali so I relaxed, ignored the fact I might resemble a baby seal (and entice a shark to eat me), and enjoyed the wonders of the sea.
So now that I have explained why dolphins are stupid, perhaps you are wondering about the road trip aspect of my title? Maybe you are thinking… but Stephanie -- you are a backpacker! That’s not the same as a road trip… Well, my friend, for the time being -- Jordan and I have consolidated our precious belongings into one pack, rented a motorbike, and bought a map. Note: the rest of our stuff is safely tucked away at our hotel in Kuta, where we must return to fly out to Cambodia next week.
We decided to cross the interior of the Bali island on the first leg of the trip and then make our way across the eastern side of the island. We had met some Germans who completed a similar trip, warning us of rainy season in the hills in the center so we figured we would get the “unpleasant” part out of the way. I use quotes because clearly biking through Bali could not be unpleasant but nasty weather is not my friend.
Anyway, it ended up being a glorious ride through the hills, passing rice paddies, volcanoes, and crater lakes. We also passed a colony of incredibly fat monkeys that we wanted to stop and take pictures of but then thought they might jump on us. There were a few times we passed other bikers wearing ponchos and we got semi-worried, but fortunately, the rain managed to hold off until we were almost at the end of the downhill portion. Then we started going super slow, causing Asian bikers to ask us if we were okay. “Of course we were okay!” we answered, “we just like to go slow!” The Asians normally shrugged and sped off, leaving us alone on our slow descent while we sang songs about being in the rain.
Finally, we made it out of the hill/mountains, and onto the beach! Our first stop was be Lovina, home of the dolphins and black sand. It is a pretty nifty beach except for the lack of dolphins and the dead dog lying on the beach in front of my hotel.
Disclaimer: Each morning you have a good chance of seeing the dolphins, we happened to go on a morning with 0. That is okay. I do actually like dolphins.
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