We went to Kuta today - Katrinka, Olga from St. Petersberg, Blondine and her son Max from France, and me, courtesy of the Nyoman express (a delapidated bemo open sided mini bus) to attend the sale of prison art at the Hard Rock Cafe.
We got there to find those who put the show together in tears. Shortly before, the place had been raided by prison guards who took the art back. The locals had released it but Jakarta had just overruled them. We'd arrived a few hours early in order to do some body surfing across the street so that's what we did - minus the French contingent. Almost all the seasonal trash in the water there is gone by now and it was great to get tossed about by waves the like of which we don't have in sleepy Sanur. Walked a long way along the beach drive with Nyoman back to where he'd parked, passing two Starbucks and some snazzy, modern, rather stunningly designed shopping, hotel, dining places. Could have been Malibu or Dubai. Made Sanur seem like a dump. We weren't in tears.
We got there to find those who put the show together in tears. Shortly before, the place had been raided by prison guards who took the art back. The locals had released it but Jakarta had just overruled them. We'd arrived a few hours early in order to do some body surfing across the street so that's what we did - minus the French contingent. Almost all the seasonal trash in the water there is gone by now and it was great to get tossed about by waves the like of which we don't have in sleepy Sanur. Walked a long way along the beach drive with Nyoman back to where he'd parked, passing two Starbucks and some snazzy, modern, rather stunningly designed shopping, hotel, dining places. Could have been Malibu or Dubai. Made Sanur seem like a dump. We weren't in tears.
