 A lovely, totally deceptive photo of a picture on our kitchen calendar. This will play heavily into why today sucked so hard. To be clear, we have been planning this trip to Bail for several years. It involved a tremendous amount of planning and saving money to make it happen. And when the photo on our kitchen calendar in May was a photo of a beach in Bali, it seemed like some sort of... well, a funny coincidence, but it was sort of cool. We had been looking at that photo daily for 30 days before we boarded a plane and it seemed like that beach, called Kelingking Beach, was somewhere we should go. People, I am here to tell you, don't let your calendars boss you around. This was not an enjoyable day. At all. Kelingking Beach is actually on a very small island off the south eastern coast of Bali canned Nusa Penida. We have heard many people in Bali talk about how beautiful and quiet Nusa Penida is. I am here to tell you that they are a bunch of filthy liars. We booked a tour to Nusa Penida through a tour company at the hotel, something that we have done a few times over the years while traveling and, weirdly, something I always regret. I just don't learn. We were told to meet our driver in the hotel lobby at 6:00. Kadek was there waiting for us. This was not our Kadek, but a different substitute Kadek, who was very nice, but it just didn't feel right somehow. He drove us through the oddly empty streets of Denpassar to the marina where we were to board a Fast Boat to take us to Nusa Penida. Once in the marina parking lot, we realized that the streets were empty because everybody in Bali was, apparently, going on a boat today.  The parking lot of the marina was, sadly, fairly typical as far as the trash levels. I wish I were kidding, but I'm not. Kadek was kind enough to bring us to the boat office and help us make sure we got our tickets. It was a slow, laborious process and the office was small, hot, and crowded. Again, a portent for the day to come. We did get our tickets, Kadek snapped a photo of us "to send to my boss" and we sat down to wait. Instructions were vague, but we understood that we'd be going to the boat in a group. And, eventually, we did. But so did the people waiting at every other boat company along the street. As if on cue, guides walked out of each building, each waving a tattered, filthy pennant on a thin bamboo pole. "Follow me to your boat!" And then he set off at a breakneck pace through the thousands of people who were all headed for different boats at the same marina. Somehow, we managed to get on the right boat and we zipped out to Nusa Penida.  Sometimes the ocean provides free snacks!  We are on a boat! Little did we know that this is the happiest we would be today. Once in Nusa Penida, we walked into the most crowded parking lot I have ever seen. Cars were parked in every conceivable space, at every conceivable angle. It was what my Australian friends would have called "A proper clusterfuck." and they wouldn't have been wrong.  Yes. Those cars are all parked. And this was just a tiny part of it. I was racing to keep up with Ketut (in the black shirt). The edge of the parking lot was crowded with hundreds of drivers, all holding signs with guest names on them. As we searched for our names, a young man came running up to us. "Marrrrrty? Kerrrrrri?" Oh, those beautiful Indonesian rolled R's. We nodded. "That's us." "I am Ketut." We were both disappointed that his birth order had prevented us from having a 100% Kadek day, but we rolled with it. He pointed to a stand of coconut trees at the far side of the parking mess. "I park in coconuts... Otherwise..." He waved a hand to generally indicate the mayhem that was happening in the parking lot as hundreds and hundreds of poorly parked cars tried to leave as hundreds and hundreds of tourists wandered through the lot, looking for a driver. Ketut's car was a tiny, tricked out Toyota Avanza with a tight rally suspension and low profile tires on racing rims. Absolutely the worst car you could possibly choose to drive on the roads which were, without doubt, the worst roads I've ever driven on.  We got in and he cranked up some country music, because we are Americans?, and raced forward about 4 feet before he had to stop because a line of parked cars was blocking the entire road out of the parking lot. He quickly jumped out of his car and hopped into two cars with no drivers in them, moved them out of the way, and got back into his car. I suppose a benefit of living on a very, very tiny island is that if someone did steal your car, they wouldn't get far with it. Here are a couple photos to give you a sense of what the best, widest road on the island looked like. It quickly got much much more thrilling.
The roads were the windiest, most damaged roads I have ever seen. Ketut took each hairpin turn and steep incline like a rally driver, dodging the constant stream of scooters, motorbikes, dogs, old ladies with piles of palm leaves on their heads, and giant holes in the road with the calm, careless aloofness that only a 24 year old can possibly muster. We quickly realized that we were simply one part of a nearly endless parade of cars that was circling the island to see 3 tourist spots. We also quickly realized that Ketut spoke almost no English at all. He was very nice, but unable to tell us anything about what we were seeing. Our first stop was a double-feature: Broken Beach and Angel Billabong. Ketut introduced Broken Beach with his only joke of the day "Also on broken road." We bounced and shuddered along the road before skidding into the Broken Beach parking lot like the Dukes of Hazzard, as Buck Redneck and Earle Moonshine yodeled on his Worst of County Music playlist. The walk to the beach was lined with stands of vendors offering food, drinks, coconuts, and toilets. Toilets are a hot commodity (commode-ity?) and they are not free. And they are not clean. At least one toilet I saw posted different prices depending on what you deposited there. 5,000 rupia for a pee, 10,000 for a poop. I have no idea whose job it was to check, but I would have crapped my pants a hundred times and sat in it for the rest of this trip before using any of the toilets we saw.
To be fair, Broken Beach and Angel Billabong were very pretty. They were also crowded with my favorites! 20-something Japanese girls posing for their Instagram feeds. Oh, how I love to see the careful preparation that goes into each of the hundreds of photos they will take, heedlessly blocking paths, preventing anyone else from seeing the views, and generally being ridiculous. And I adore getting in their photos with them. They typically are less than thrilled about my photobombings. Sadly, Kerri thinks I'm being a jerk and refuses to photograph me with my new Instagram friends. And, yes, I am being a jerk. I know that. I'm not proud of it, but here we are. Kerri was having a hard time navigating the rough walkways so Ketut kindly took her bag from her and offered to get his car and drive around to meet us so we wouldn't have to walk back up the path we'd come down. We realized, as we watched the nearly endless stream of cars leaving and entering the parking lot, that the drivers were essentially racing to get to the next spot before all the other drivers so they could have a parking spot. When he skidded to a stop in front of us, we hopped into his car through the open windows like Bo and Luke Duke and we took off for our next stop... Kelingking Beach! Right now, I'm going to ask you to please go back to the beginning of this post so you can refresh your memory of what the beach looks like on our calendar at home. I will now take you on a visual tour of what it is really like, my friends... I tried valiantly to got to the spot where the photo on our calendar had been taken. This was as close as I could get:  This is the line ahead of me. Please note the tiny thread-like path running along the ridgeline in the middle right of the photo. That's the path where the photo on the calendar was taken.  And this is as close as I could get to the place where the photo on our calendar was taken. Ketut said the line would probably take about 3 hours to get through, so please enjoy the view of literally hundreds of people in line ahead of me. Because there is no way I was waiting 3 hours to get to a path that lead, eventually, to a beach.  This is the line behind me. It's like I was there... From Kelingking beach, we went to lunch, which, because we had booked through a tour company, was included. And for exactly the same reasons, it was the worst food we'd had out in Bali. We were given what I can only assume was the "Tour People" menu, with a half dozen selections, none of them good.
Our final stop for the day was a visit to Crystal Beach for a few hours of swimming. Many of the drivers were clearly in a race to get their passengers to the beach so they could hang around for a while and gossip. We joined the parade of vehicles making our way to Crystal Beach.  Welcome to Crystal Beach. Yes. That really is part of the beach. But if I'm being honest, most of it was clean enough. It was high tide when we arrived and there was no dry place to put your things. It was also insanely hot and there was no shade save for the umbrellas set up over the chairs enticingly arranged along the beach. We sat down in a couple and were immediately swarmed by 3 guys who worked at the beach. "Chairs are 100,000 rupia." I channeled my inner Australian. "What the fuck, mate? For real?" It was, indeed, for real. I pulled out 100,000 and handed it over. Then they started to close the umbrella and tie it up. "We want the umbrella open, please," I said. "Otherwise we will ignite and leave a greasy, smoky stain on these chairs and you'll never extort 100,000 for them if they smell like fried tourist." "Umbrella is 100,000 more." "Or you tie it closed?" "Yes." So I forked over another 100,000 and harbored uncharitable thoughts. There was no place to change or get out of the sun at all and I really felt awful for the people who arrived after us. We got one of the few remaining sets of chairs. Most of the people who arrived after us crowded at the edge of the beach, holding their belongings and trying not to incinerate in the sun. This was the end of the tour so all they could do was wait around until 3:00, when it was time to drive back to the marina and play "Escape from Nusa Penida". But first, we had to escape from the parking lot. As we tried to get out, a steady stream of cars was pouring in to the already overfilled lot. It was absolute gridlock. At one point, another driver hopped out of his car and directed Ketut through two cars with, I am not exaggerating, no more than 1.5" on either side. He pulled in his mirrors and crept along. Here is a thrilling photographic documentary of our escape from Crystal Beach: It was absolutely mental. But somehow, we escaped! And we raced back to the marina where even more traffic awaited us in parking lot hell.  This time, we abandoned the car and Ketut walked us to the waiting room where we were to wait for the boat.  Imagine an overheated waiting room where the fans were broken and a WHOLE bunch of hot, sweaty, tired tourists were feeling confused and, possibly, a bit underwhelmed by their idyllic day in tropical paradise. It was just like that. We got on the boat and the ride back afforded beautiful views of Mt. Agung poking up out of the clouds. I wasn't able to get many pictures because the spray from the boat was flying hard and drenching the passengers on the other side of the boat. It was jolly fun. For us. On the dry side of the boat.
I opted not to photograph the incandescently angry people on the wet side of the boat, screaming at other passengers to "Close the WINDOWS!!!" That didn't seem like a hornet's nest that needed any poking. Once safely back on land, we ran the gauntlet of taxi drivers asking "You need a ride, Boss?" and found Kadek 2.0 waiting just where he said he would be. We would have found him sooner if either of us could remember where he said he would be waiting for us. I think lunch erased our minds. But sadly, not the memory of lunch.  Ahhhh, yes. Back to the parking lot. We got back to the hotel and went in for a long, cool swim before dinner, which was instant Ramen noodles in our room.
It was, at least compared to lunch, surprisingly delicious. The Balinese people take their Ramen seriously. The packages come, not only with the packet of flavored salt that you might find in American versions, but three little packages of sweet soy sauce, spicy chili oil, and something else that I couldn't identify, but I ate anyway. This is how we learn, people. We washed the day away with a coupe Bali Bangers and fell asleep meditating. Again.
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