Bali bound: Kuta beach in Bali, Indonesia.
It was sad to say goodbye to everyone in Chiang Mai, but I knew it was time to move on.
If only for a little while.
I arrived in Bali, after flying all day through a crazy flight path I concocted to save a few dollars and to save taking a bus to Bangkok, at 11pm.
I went straight to bed.
The next day I explored Kuta, a beach that everyone told me was shit.
But I liked it.
Sure, it was crowded with backpackers.
Sure, there were brand-name stores and tourists everywhere.
But with a slightly overcast sky, temperatures more glorious than anywhere I’ve been in the last five months, and amazingly dramatic water reflections, it was refreshing.
I spent the morning walking the beach with an Indonesian surfer.
Because, as I’ve found, it’s impossible to walk the beach without a young Indonesian asking to join you.
We played a version of the floor is lava, jumping down the beach trying only to land on crab holes.
We watched children shoot bbs at crabs.
We sat on the beach for a while.
That night I joined a girl from California for dinner.
She was 22 and it was her first day ever in Asia.
She asked me a million questions, one after another, about Bali, and Indonesia.
Despite the fact that I had only been there less than 24 hours myself.