(remote north coast of Bali)
The ocean here is protected by reefs and has no surf…it is weird to stand on the black sand beach and look out over the water as calm and glassy as a mountain lake…with only an outrigger canoe (prahu) or two being prepared for the night’s fishing to disturb the horizon.

The internet is down about half the time here…and we were unable to find a way to telephone our sons…surprising for this oft-visited island. We spent the day under a sheet of water…finding a sheltered little cafe (“fresh bread baked daily”) for our evening meal of brushetta and fresh tuna steak. “Where are you from,” asked the young owner who worked the restaurant with his wife. ” My brother is getting his Ph.d. in Michigan in engineering.”

On the beaches and streets of Kuta Bob noticed a large number of lone foreign women (as in white Western). Upon checking Lonely Planet we find that many visiting women are looking for charming young supercool guys with long hair, lean bodies, tight jeans and lots of tatoos commonly called Kuta Cowboys, beach boys, bad boys, guides or gigolos. They are good on the dance floor and play a mean guitar. While they don’t usually work a straight sex-for-money deal, according to Lonely Planet, the visiting woman pays for the meals, drinks and accommodation and commonly buys the guy presents. “It’s not uncommon for them to form long-term relationships, according to LP, “with the guy hopeful of finding a new and better life with his partner in Europe, Japan, Australia or the USA.

One female reader wrote to LP that the main young male occupation in Lovina is finding and living off foreign girlfriends. LP cautions that while most of the guys around Bali are genuinely friendly, some are predatory con-artists who practice elaborate deceits, or downright theft, to get a woman’s money. Many are now from outside Bali, LP says, and have a long succession of foreign lovers and women should be sceptical about what they say, particularly if it comes down to them needing money….and to always use condoms.

Before leaving the Kuta area we saw ground 0 of the night club that was bombed by terrorists 3 years ago. A white canvas cloth on which is written some touching poetry by New Zealanders is hanging on the fence around the empty grassy lot. Directly across the street is quite a large memorial…with all the names of the almost 300 deceased carved into a huge slab of marble…giving me goosebumps.

After the first week in a Balinese style villa on the southwest coast of Bali…a couple miles north of… but not out of reach of Kuta, the surfing area frequented by dread-locked backpackers and pesky beach vendors, we moved to the quieter side of the island. We decided to forego the “bemo,” the local transport system…small open-doored vans that connect one village to another…and instead drove our rented jeep to Sanur on the southeast coast. Our villa of four units, owned by an American architect from Portland Oregon, was managed by a Dutch-Indonesian couple…some of the many people from the Netherlands on the island…a reminder of the Dutch colonization until post WW II.