I rented a motor scooter from the hostel and -- despite an utter lack of road signs and Denpasar's anthill like road network --managed to find my way to Bali's main cultural museum, Museum Bali.
The ticket itself is 50,000 IDR, and because the minimal signage within the museum was not very illuminating I caved to the museum "guide" who leeched onto me as I entered the museum for another 50,000 IDR. The guide did help, and by the end I felt like I had a slightly tighter grasp on the "why" Bali culture is the way it is. But, like many museums, there felt like an incongruous jump from ceremonial instruments and old Dutch weapons to the living, breathing, scooter-riding, McDonald's inhabited, tourist frenzied Bali of today.
From Museum Bali I rode south to a shopping area where I had lunch and unsuccessfully looked for a new sun hat. Having the rest of the afternoon ahead of me and not having seen a beach in Bali yet (not that beaches are all that different from each other, but I had no better ideas), I headed due east to Berawa Beach in North Kuta. The southern coastlines of Bali are extremely popular with tourists, and the beaches are lined with resorts, groups of friends in their late 20s/early 30s, newly minted parents, and older, retired couples.
Walking through the sand and water felt great after a hot day on the road, and I sat down for a banana split sundae and coconut water on my way back. Realizing that, to my mind, coconut water still tastes like dirty water, no matter where I buy it from, I ditched the table I was sitting at and found an empty beach chair to read in until sunset.
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| My camera turning a perfectly overcast day into an ominous solar eclipse |
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| Hi |
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