When we were in Bali it was wonderful to be in a land where everyone thought like us- 2 wheels good, 4 wheels bad. Whether we were riding scooters or our lovely bicyclesthe breeze and mobility in the traffic was always a relief.In Canggu (my favourite place we visited) we met the wonderful Ali at the luscious Voyager Creative Retreat. Our twosome quickly became a threesome as we bonded over vodkas and Bintangs. Ali was a trooper, and decided that she would get a bicycle also so we could get around together. Scott dinked her up to the bike shop and she got the last Pheonix in the “store.” What an absolute star she was, riding her old wobbly bike on Balinese roads, always with a grin on her face. She was the best bike gang member.
Although we probably did not do enough cycling to justify the amount of Indonesian food we were eating in Bali, man oh man, what delicious food! I justified how gluttonous I was in terms of how difficult it was to ride our vintage Phoenix bikes.
Our favourite Indonesian Food
Our favourites thing seemed to be Bakar, or grill, where you get to pick the fish or piece of meat you want grilled over coals and you eat it on little plastic stools in the market. 2 whole fish with rice and greens usually cost, and of course a Bintang, only about $7. We ate the yellow tail, mmmmm.
Bullshit good dogs are everywhere. Global. Regional. Local. Dogs. As humans little is as a comforting as the unconditional love of a dog. Bali, is a beautiful mess and thus is a dog’s paradise. All dogs here are inside dogs, they run the place. Bali’s dogs are happy dogs.
Dogs in Bali
We had the pleasure of meeting some seriously good pooches in Bali.We won’t lie, some street dogs were mean, I had to keep reminding myself after a few too many Bintangs not to pat them. Woops. Here’s a selection of my favourites. Sorry for the creepy eyes.
On Gili Trawangan there are no motorised vehicles of any sort: no cars, no scooters and no motorbikes. It is a paradise for many reasons but the lack of fuming, noisy engines is noticeable as soon as you alight from the boat from Bali.
For transport the thriving building industry is reliant on horse and carriage, how perfectly quaint instructs the tourist board, and locals move about the island on a myriad of modified bicycles: of this the Bike Gang approves.
Crazy bikes on Gili T
The personalisation of bicycle ranges from creative to down-right dangerous, I saw one young chap steering his bicycle with bars no more than two inches wide and bent back toward him in a U-shape with barely enough room for his fingers to hold the grips, his bike also featured no brakes. The fixie movement has a lot to answer for even here in Bali, or perhaps adolescence is to blame, and quite possibly boredom. There sure are a lot of crazy bikes on Gili T.
Milestones are a funny thing. I’m turning thirty. I’m not going to say that I don’t care, or that it doesn’t mean anything to me, because it does. I’m sad to say goodbye to frivolous adolescence, to the time in my life when almost any behaviour can be blamed on youth. I’m going to have to come up with some new excuses.
Becoming old comes with plentiful new responsibilities: further establish myself in a career, start thinking about having children, buy a dog and feel guilty if I don’t feed it premium brand food, have a car that is purchased with servicing included, buy house and content insurance, buy a house and contents, have the dog microchiped, read Sunday papers in a cafe without a hangover. These are all expectations one can have of a recently turned thirty-year-old man.