“Boss, Where are you going!”

Scooter Park, Denpasar Intl Airport.
Barely relevant but it's pretty cool

I’m actually going to Singapore!

I caught a free ride on the back of a motorcycle from Denpasar into Kuta from a stranger I met while scoffing down two adult sized portions of ayam kremes & nasi putih in an Indonesian warung (with my bare hands like a tryhard). If talking to strangers is one level, accepting free motorbike rides from a stranger who’s also just paid for your meal is quite a few levels up there.

He dropped me off at ‘Poppies 1’ which is a street located right near the tourist centre of Kuta.

About 5 seconds after I disembark, a stranger walks up to me asking where I was going and whether I wanted to rent a scooter. 'Oh fuck, so it begins' I thought.

“Where are you going?”

Such a simple sentence yet so difficult to answer.

My lack of clarity regarding my next destination is something I struggle with both on the micro and macro level.

To say that your next move is to wander somewhat aimlessly in a general compass direction taking photos of stuff is an answer that not everyone seems to understand. Obviously for the person offering transportation services, a compass direction is of no use to them.

Irrespective of this I sometimes wonder whether it really is necessary to have somewhere to be, somewhere to go, or something to do.

What am I really here for?  Obviously I’m not here to get tattoos or massages or get absolutely wasted.

It seems to me like a lot of the tourists are here (Kuta) to really experience luxury which would otherwise be unattainable back home. In one rapid swoop they go for it all, filling the day with multiple experiences perhaps not necessarily unique to Bali except for the price; like some kind of playground where the middle class can get a taste of what it feels like to roll at a higher level.

For me, visiting Bali has been about staying in $4 NZD a night hostels located within narrow residential jalans, hearing the bakso man in his scooter make his rounds several times a day, washing yourself with a scoop and a bucket, watching the toothpaste you just spat out flow down the exposed concrete wastewater channel in the outdoor ‘bathroom’, drinking juice out of a plastic bag, and riding within the tightly packed scooter formations on the Denpasar roads.

I fly out to Singapore as part of a rapidly increasing desire to take photos of cool things. They have cameras there... lots of them I hear. (And really expensive accommodation)

Hopefully this means more and better photos.

Rice Terrace, en route to Mengwi