I'd be a total liar to say that this trip has been completely perfect... I do have some complaints and reservations (silly ones).
i. Vegas has ruined the rest of the world's "party scene", I must admit. Step it up, Bali.
ii. I crave pizza at least once a week, & for some reason, they can't get dough, marinara, and cheese quite right. Devastating.
iii. Ketchup. I like ketchup. I may even go as far as saying that I love ketchup. It tastes weird out here. What is going on?!
iv. Skittles. Please see sentence above and replace the word "ketchup" with the word "Skittles". Purple tastes like star anise and green is "apple". I can't take it.
v. French fries. How...how do you mess that up? I already have to scratch ketchup out of the equation (and the mayo, too, actually--ick) Bummer.
vi. Sriracha is nowhere to be found. Sambal? Not. Good. Enough.
vii. I miss a few people :)
viii. I'm getting really dark.
ix. The mani/pedis suck.
x. I can't find Tylenol.
Oh, but everything else has been wonderful HAHA
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
None-ya
So "kicking jet lag" was a fluke; still falling asleep around 10 most nights and getting up by 3ish most mornings. Loading up on caffeine around 7pm seems to keep me up 'til at least midnight-- wooo! Wanted to start venturing out of Nusa Dua, but didn't really know where to start. Kadek suggested I check out the Bali Hai Cruises, "100% holiday in just one day". This was a company that offered all sorts of group trips to various islands and different "packages". I knew this would be one of those family/couple/group-of-friends sort of deal, but I had a theory. After having been alone this whole time, I've been receiving preferential treatment from the staff, who are obviously local; locals know best; locals can help me find what I'm looking for. Not that I've been "looking for" anything specific, but I had lots of questions and it takes having to speak to handfuls of staff at once to answer questions I had. It was like having a group of researchers decipher my questions and hopefully come up with an answer that I either understood or made sense at all. Anyhow, I checked out all the packages, assumed the most expensive would be the best option, and went for it. Crazy how cheap the most expensive package was though! Concierge set it up for me, and my trip was scheduled for Friday morning. I chose the "ARISTOCRAT, the luxury sailing catamaran." The ARISTOCAT entailed transport from Nusa Dua to the Benoa Marina, 2 hours of sailing to Nusa Lambongan, use of their facilities on the island (beach club, lockers, lounges, bars, snorkeling gear, etc) light breakfast, tropical bbq lunch, snacks, drinks, and staff that spoke English well enough to get questions answered. A driver came to pick me up at 7:45 and drove off for the catamaran in Benoa Marina. There were a few of us in Nusa Dua area and pretty much set the "group" for most of the day-- a couple in their twenties and a family of 4, mom and dad were probably in their fifties, the son in his early twenties, and a teenage daughter. We didn't have to stick together, but it just so happen that we did most of the day. I didn't understand most of what they said and, it's safe to assume, they didn't understand most of what I said, either. Oh well... Everyone was polite and no one was annoying. First hour of setting out to Nusa Lembongan, I planted myself in the front corner of the catamaran to enjoy the ocean. I'll never get over the ocean; or my fear of being in the middle of open water, ha. I held on tight every time the boat did one of it's jumping-over-wakes-splish-splashing ditty. The second half of the ride, I went into the cabin of the boat and sat down by myself on a banquet. And wouldn't you know, just as I planned, make friends with the staff and get some questions answered!
By now, I'm used to almost all the locals either asking me where I'm from and, before they can tell me I look Indonesian, I beat them to the punch-- "I know, I know... I look Indonesian, I'm Filipino" Or, they just start talking to me in Indonesian, to which I respond, "HUH?" After we got that all over with, they ask who I'm with. Then, I get asked if I'm married or have a boyfriend. I've learned, the answer to this question is, "YES, I have a boyfriend" (because these guys don't seem to pick up on social cues females send out when they're really just interested in conversing). Today, however was the first time anyone asked me where my boyfriend was and his name. Uhhhhh...? "Back home". His name??? "None-ya"-- I almost died. It was the first thing that popped into my head and seeing as there wasn't a soul to share my childish Western humor, my fictitious beau from here on forth became None-ya. Now that we've established that my loving boyfriend, None-ya, was waiting for me back home, I comfortably started making friends. This guy, Harapan, spoke English remarkably well and gave some of the best Bali advise, thus far. I spoke to him most of the time, and the staff kept busting his balls because he has a girlfriend (he assured them it was fine, because I had a boyfriend... You know, good faithful None-ya back home). Anyhow, he's pointed me to some awesome markets, bazaars, beaches, and massage parlors outside of Nusa Dua. He answered all my questions about the temples (every house, hotel, respectable business has one), offerings (I've taken some pictures of these-- little woven baskets with food and flowers), the big tall decor that lined and hung over the streets ("for big festivals"-- whatever those festivals may be) etc. However, he had no idea what "plaid" was and when I tried to describe the "print" I lost him. Pillars, restaurants, sculptures... All covered in black and white plaid. Harapan and his buddies also offered to take me to some good hiking spots up in the mountains and river! He said it would take 4hours by car, but he can get me there in 2 hours on his bike. I might take them up on that, except I'll just rent a car, crazy. The streets are packed with motorbikes weaving in and out of lanes that they create for themselves in traffic. Get outta here with that mess. Anyhow, the captain of the boat happens to also own a seafood restaurant in Jimbaran--score. Another guy answered all my questions about tropical fruits (heaven!) and, if I was lucky enough that we completely understood each other, I think I can find one of my most favorite fruits from the Philippines (and Hawaii), "santol", which you can't find or bring onto the mainland in the states. Needless to say, it was a good hour of conversation.
Once on Nusa Lambongan, we went snorkeling, parasaling, took a semi-submersible boat tour of the ocean, banana boat rides, and a tour of the village where they farmed seaweed (see videos of the tour guide explaining the seaweed business on photobucket.com/1millionrupiah). They suggest you not stray from tour guides, so naturally the young couple and I ran off and snooped around the village. Back at the beach club, we were provided a nice lunch and read a book and took a nice nap on the beach before heading back to Benoa Marina early in the evening. All that for $100; insane in the membrane.
By now, I'm used to almost all the locals either asking me where I'm from and, before they can tell me I look Indonesian, I beat them to the punch-- "I know, I know... I look Indonesian, I'm Filipino" Or, they just start talking to me in Indonesian, to which I respond, "HUH?" After we got that all over with, they ask who I'm with. Then, I get asked if I'm married or have a boyfriend. I've learned, the answer to this question is, "YES, I have a boyfriend" (because these guys don't seem to pick up on social cues females send out when they're really just interested in conversing). Today, however was the first time anyone asked me where my boyfriend was and his name. Uhhhhh...? "Back home". His name??? "None-ya"-- I almost died. It was the first thing that popped into my head and seeing as there wasn't a soul to share my childish Western humor, my fictitious beau from here on forth became None-ya. Now that we've established that my loving boyfriend, None-ya, was waiting for me back home, I comfortably started making friends. This guy, Harapan, spoke English remarkably well and gave some of the best Bali advise, thus far. I spoke to him most of the time, and the staff kept busting his balls because he has a girlfriend (he assured them it was fine, because I had a boyfriend... You know, good faithful None-ya back home). Anyhow, he's pointed me to some awesome markets, bazaars, beaches, and massage parlors outside of Nusa Dua. He answered all my questions about the temples (every house, hotel, respectable business has one), offerings (I've taken some pictures of these-- little woven baskets with food and flowers), the big tall decor that lined and hung over the streets ("for big festivals"-- whatever those festivals may be) etc. However, he had no idea what "plaid" was and when I tried to describe the "print" I lost him. Pillars, restaurants, sculptures... All covered in black and white plaid. Harapan and his buddies also offered to take me to some good hiking spots up in the mountains and river! He said it would take 4hours by car, but he can get me there in 2 hours on his bike. I might take them up on that, except I'll just rent a car, crazy. The streets are packed with motorbikes weaving in and out of lanes that they create for themselves in traffic. Get outta here with that mess. Anyhow, the captain of the boat happens to also own a seafood restaurant in Jimbaran--score. Another guy answered all my questions about tropical fruits (heaven!) and, if I was lucky enough that we completely understood each other, I think I can find one of my most favorite fruits from the Philippines (and Hawaii), "santol", which you can't find or bring onto the mainland in the states. Needless to say, it was a good hour of conversation.
Once on Nusa Lambongan, we went snorkeling, parasaling, took a semi-submersible boat tour of the ocean, banana boat rides, and a tour of the village where they farmed seaweed (see videos of the tour guide explaining the seaweed business on photobucket.com/1millionrupiah). They suggest you not stray from tour guides, so naturally the young couple and I ran off and snooped around the village. Back at the beach club, we were provided a nice lunch and read a book and took a nice nap on the beach before heading back to Benoa Marina early in the evening. All that for $100; insane in the membrane.
Monday, August 1, 2011
A Familiar Face
Up until today my annoying little friend, Jetlag, has been knocking me out at 10pm and waking me up around 3am. Well, I told that little booger to beat it. I stayed up after midnight and woke up just before 8am today. Can I get an "Amen"?! Amen!
During the maddening dark mornings due to wake up calls from my internal clock, I was able to stroll down to the beach and catch Mr. Sun rise out of the ocean-- having lived in the west coast for the last 10years, this was truly a treat. I'd lay in the sand wait for the heat of the sun and the humidity to get me up. I walk back past the resort, towards the local grubbin' joints, bobbing my head to "Have Love, Will Travel" and grab a coconut juice. Fresh coconut juice, the tourist in me looks for the ones served in the actual coconut. If that doesn't scream tropical paradise vacation, I don't know what does! This is accompanied by a pastry (not very Bali, but give me a break). By the time I'm done putzing around the neighborhood, the humidity gets the best of me and head back to the resort to do some floating in the pool. I started contemplating a nap and it's not even noon yet! This is when it hit me, COFFEE. Since I got here, I haven't had any coffee. This was the answer to kick Jetlag in the butt! I fight the urge to nap, dry off, and venture out once again. Let me tell you how comforting it is to see the green umbrellas and awnings displayed out front of Starbucks. I know, I know... cop out. Bite me. It's hot, I'm sleepy, it's not even noon. Tall, non-fat caramel frappucino, no whip, add shot... Prease :) I sat underneath the magnificent green umbrella inhaling every drop of my beloved icy savior. Now, I realize that documenting this little event makes me look pretty ridiculous, but it felt so insanely good to find a familiar "face" while traveling alone in a foreign country where I do not know a soul! Starbucks is a 10 minute walk down the street and we have a date every morning. Sometimes, we have an early evening soiree.
Sunday, I went to a fantastic Japanese brunch at Benkay. They called it a "buffet brunch" but was more like an "all-you-can-eat". Everything was prepared when you decided you wanted it. Live walk up stations everywhere-- you order, go back to your seat and the server brings over your food. They were kind enough to seat me at a corner window looking out into the bright blue ocean. It was windy and the waves charged the cliffs with determination. I sat and ate, for over 2 hours. Oh, yes. After completely gorging myself, I walked through the resort and down to the beach area. Mid-afternoon, the white sandy beach was quiet save the rustling of the flags, pounding of the waves, and the squeaky Japanese man motioning to his wife to take a picture of him sitting on the lounge chair. Luckily it was high tide and the children were playing in the pool instead of the ocean. I stake out beach front "property"-- padded lounger, first row, no one to my left, no one to my right, umbrella for some shade, Ray Bans on, headphones in (Mozart lulling the ocean in front of me). Perfect. The skies are littered with delicate pillows of clouds, enough to make for a picturesque sky and allow the hot rays of the sun to take breaks every so often. I spent all afternoon on that lounge chair. When I finally decided to leave, as I stood up, the view of ocean wasn't as my eyes left it last when I sat down. The water was much lower. The dark spots of blue water were now brown rock-like structures protruding up toward the littered sky. People were walking across these structures, poking at it's surface, collecting what I could only imagine to be seashell to take back home, and taking pictures of each other standing in the middle of the waves. It was around 5pm when this was all going down. Instead of walking down there right there and then, I decided... It's a date! That's what I'll be doing the next day around 5, I'll let you know what I find.
*Pictures of food, sand, and surf to come. It's annoying to load them through the iPad. I'll probably just set up a photobucket or something for browsing.
During the maddening dark mornings due to wake up calls from my internal clock, I was able to stroll down to the beach and catch Mr. Sun rise out of the ocean-- having lived in the west coast for the last 10years, this was truly a treat. I'd lay in the sand wait for the heat of the sun and the humidity to get me up. I walk back past the resort, towards the local grubbin' joints, bobbing my head to "Have Love, Will Travel" and grab a coconut juice. Fresh coconut juice, the tourist in me looks for the ones served in the actual coconut. If that doesn't scream tropical paradise vacation, I don't know what does! This is accompanied by a pastry (not very Bali, but give me a break). By the time I'm done putzing around the neighborhood, the humidity gets the best of me and head back to the resort to do some floating in the pool. I started contemplating a nap and it's not even noon yet! This is when it hit me, COFFEE. Since I got here, I haven't had any coffee. This was the answer to kick Jetlag in the butt! I fight the urge to nap, dry off, and venture out once again. Let me tell you how comforting it is to see the green umbrellas and awnings displayed out front of Starbucks. I know, I know... cop out. Bite me. It's hot, I'm sleepy, it's not even noon. Tall, non-fat caramel frappucino, no whip, add shot... Prease :) I sat underneath the magnificent green umbrella inhaling every drop of my beloved icy savior. Now, I realize that documenting this little event makes me look pretty ridiculous, but it felt so insanely good to find a familiar "face" while traveling alone in a foreign country where I do not know a soul! Starbucks is a 10 minute walk down the street and we have a date every morning. Sometimes, we have an early evening soiree.
Sunday, I went to a fantastic Japanese brunch at Benkay. They called it a "buffet brunch" but was more like an "all-you-can-eat". Everything was prepared when you decided you wanted it. Live walk up stations everywhere-- you order, go back to your seat and the server brings over your food. They were kind enough to seat me at a corner window looking out into the bright blue ocean. It was windy and the waves charged the cliffs with determination. I sat and ate, for over 2 hours. Oh, yes. After completely gorging myself, I walked through the resort and down to the beach area. Mid-afternoon, the white sandy beach was quiet save the rustling of the flags, pounding of the waves, and the squeaky Japanese man motioning to his wife to take a picture of him sitting on the lounge chair. Luckily it was high tide and the children were playing in the pool instead of the ocean. I stake out beach front "property"-- padded lounger, first row, no one to my left, no one to my right, umbrella for some shade, Ray Bans on, headphones in (Mozart lulling the ocean in front of me). Perfect. The skies are littered with delicate pillows of clouds, enough to make for a picturesque sky and allow the hot rays of the sun to take breaks every so often. I spent all afternoon on that lounge chair. When I finally decided to leave, as I stood up, the view of ocean wasn't as my eyes left it last when I sat down. The water was much lower. The dark spots of blue water were now brown rock-like structures protruding up toward the littered sky. People were walking across these structures, poking at it's surface, collecting what I could only imagine to be seashell to take back home, and taking pictures of each other standing in the middle of the waves. It was around 5pm when this was all going down. Instead of walking down there right there and then, I decided... It's a date! That's what I'll be doing the next day around 5, I'll let you know what I find.
*Pictures of food, sand, and surf to come. It's annoying to load them through the iPad. I'll probably just set up a photobucket or something for browsing.
Made Killa (pronounced mud-de)
The staff have gotten to know me by face and I get greeted and welcomed with such sincerity every time I walk out of my room, into the gym, through the resort gates, into the lobby, or wherever the hell else I wander into with my headphones deeming me practically deaf. Like a prepubescent teenager ignoring her family, I've kept the iPod on almost every time I walk out of my room. It's not that I'm trying to ignore everyone (some, yes...but not EVERYONE), I just feel like everyday I spend here needs a score and a soundtrack. Yeah, I said it :) & It makes for ignoring nuisances much, much easier-- i.e., the local peddlers, taxis drivers, and local dirtbags (like in Vegas, a girl walking down the street alone is asking for hoots and hollers no matter how terrible she looks. Woo...Hoo... Please note the heavy peppering of sarcasm). "Sorry, can't hear you. Led Zepplin's talkin' up a storm in my ear..." Though, there has been a slight disadvantage of having my daily Bali soundtrack, the resort staff don't really know my name unless I'm calling from my room-- "oooh hello miss Charo" (for some reason followed almost every time by a giggle). I think it's making them uncomfortable not knowing my name.
Yesterday, I left my room, iPod in hand, headphones in my pocket. I'm greeted by my little piece of Bali paradise. I walk by the lobby and towards the security check in and the young man that has been greeting me every morning automatically starts asking questions. Here we go... The questions were all common. "Where are you from?"--My answer is always followed with surprise because my "face looks like Indonesian" or the most recent "you look like from Jayakarta". Apparently I'm not dark enough to be from here, here. "Who are you with?", "Are you with your daddy?"--No, seriously. I've had ten if not a million people ask me this question. It's funny to me every time. Yes, I laugh out loud. Every. Time. I mean, I get it-- I look young and what in the world is a young, single female doing in Nusa Dua alone?! Thanks. Dick. Then he asks, "what is your name?" We introduce ourselves and I've made a new friend, Kadek. After telling me his first name he explains there are only 4 first names in Bali, depending on when you were born regarding the number of children in the family; he's the 2nd child. Anyhow, I'm not going to get all "Eat, Pray, Love" on you guys, so long and short of it, since I'm the 2nd child and a female, my first name is Made (mud-de). Then he asks me what my 4th name is (which, in Bali, is my last name) and I reply, "Ronquillo." Now, between his question and my answer I lost him. Like a child that just got his first gameboy (or whatever makes little boys all giddy-like nowadays), Kadek is beaming with absolute excitement. In his attempt to share this excitement, he looks around trying to find anyone to pawn off this excess glee on. "I don't get it", I say. "That's so cool! Your name is so cool! It's like Killa! You're Killa of Made" aaahahaha! Boy, now I wish Pops--or any other Ronquillo brother--was there to witness their corny-ness get built a shrine in Kadek's eyes. This is the epitome of Ronquillo male corny-ness. You're supposed to ask, "how do you say your last name?" and they ALWAYS reply "If you're WRONG, I'll kill yo'... Ronquillo". They think it's hilarious and FINALLY, someone to share the hilarity with! All this before my walk to grab my morning coffee!
Yesterday, I left my room, iPod in hand, headphones in my pocket. I'm greeted by my little piece of Bali paradise. I walk by the lobby and towards the security check in and the young man that has been greeting me every morning automatically starts asking questions. Here we go... The questions were all common. "Where are you from?"--My answer is always followed with surprise because my "face looks like Indonesian" or the most recent "you look like from Jayakarta". Apparently I'm not dark enough to be from here, here. "Who are you with?", "Are you with your daddy?"--No, seriously. I've had ten if not a million people ask me this question. It's funny to me every time. Yes, I laugh out loud. Every. Time. I mean, I get it-- I look young and what in the world is a young, single female doing in Nusa Dua alone?! Thanks. Dick. Then he asks, "what is your name?" We introduce ourselves and I've made a new friend, Kadek. After telling me his first name he explains there are only 4 first names in Bali, depending on when you were born regarding the number of children in the family; he's the 2nd child. Anyhow, I'm not going to get all "Eat, Pray, Love" on you guys, so long and short of it, since I'm the 2nd child and a female, my first name is Made (mud-de). Then he asks me what my 4th name is (which, in Bali, is my last name) and I reply, "Ronquillo." Now, between his question and my answer I lost him. Like a child that just got his first gameboy (or whatever makes little boys all giddy-like nowadays), Kadek is beaming with absolute excitement. In his attempt to share this excitement, he looks around trying to find anyone to pawn off this excess glee on. "I don't get it", I say. "That's so cool! Your name is so cool! It's like Killa! You're Killa of Made" aaahahaha! Boy, now I wish Pops--or any other Ronquillo brother--was there to witness their corny-ness get built a shrine in Kadek's eyes. This is the epitome of Ronquillo male corny-ness. You're supposed to ask, "how do you say your last name?" and they ALWAYS reply "If you're WRONG, I'll kill yo'... Ronquillo". They think it's hilarious and FINALLY, someone to share the hilarity with! All this before my walk to grab my morning coffee!
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