We rode the boat back to Benoa singing happy, snappy ditties about beheading turtle women & children… 
Death Race (October) 2000 – Back at the snorkel & boat base we hovered around picnic tables while waiting on a ride to the Aston (T&S still resided there and we liked to glam it …

…the electric ripples of hot pepper pain still running through our gums we were picked up to go snorkeling and visit Turtle Island. Didn’t know what Turtle Island was maybe it’s where the snorkeling was at. Maybe we’d swim with sea reptiles…wrestle them… or be enslaved to carapaced overlords with Kaiser helmets and ninja gear.

3:30 PM it could have been – we check out the accommodations at the Matahari Terbit a couple of buildings south of the Aston. The Aston is swank alright, but with nearly two weeks to go in Bali our money could be better spent.  Not to mention that for $50/night …

I told Jacko that those cheap, long ads were actually Country music videos, created for funny people with fused hips who think a little slower than regular folks.

Balinese Suckling Pig…  This is what we were getting our fingers greasy on, during a pre-Monsoon storm at a villa in Legian, when I asked Elisa to marry me.  Fiery hot pork and bad weather – no better way to get engaged, yes? 
   Although better known by its Indonesian name, …

a horseshit manner of vacationing on the other side of the earth. Resorts are for low-feature, close to home places like Florida. So around one o’clock we took off down the road, hoping to find lunch on less elegant plates. What’s the name of the road? Dunno, but it did go from left to right and we hadn’t gone right yet. Had an appetizer en route, from a pushcart at the construction site of yet another resort…

He was loving life & rearing to throw back a bunch of drinks to emphasize the emotion. I deeply involved with every minute as well, but there is this strange thing that happens to me when I travel: I’m never too keen on drinking a whole lot. Not to mention that multiple beers would have mandated peeing in the awfully nice pool.

Our lessons in cultural confusion continued as E asked a waiter, a Balinese fella, for some chopsticks. He laughed, though not derisively, and said “Nooo, we do not have them. We are not Chinese!” She certainly didn’t want to challenge him on the nature of the menu…

No coke, however. Go figure, there’s too much karmic tuning here to have the real career threatening narcotics at hand…

Not knowing the place of vermin on the Karmic scale here, I wadded toilet paper into a catcher’s mitt, scooped the critter up gently and tossed it outside. Seemed like a fair compromise; I’d let it live but there was no way were going to be tub buddies.