Day LXXV – JUNE 01, 2012

I’m waiting for Koming. We’d go to Tirta Gangga, he’d pick me up at 11.30. But we both overslept. When I called him half an hour ago –well after 1pm- I woke him up with the same shock I’d just woken up with.
I realize we’re never going to make it; he would have to be back at Sunshine to open at 5pm.
But I am completely fine with just doing another day of the exact same I have these past weeks here: going to whitesands, hang out at the warung, playing cards or frisbee, jump in the waves. It still brings enough excitement and diversity every day not to ‘like’ to come back but to WANT to. I could easily do this for a month or so more.

I’m still a little wobbly when I see Koming turning up next door at Ozone Cafe. I fear the wobbly feeling might have something to do with bad arak last night… He calls me over to have a beer first. “Good breakfast, haha!” Doesn’t sit too well with me though.
It’s already 3pm when we get on his bike, but 40 minutes later he parks his bike at Tirta Gangga.
You know I like to get a little crazy in traffic myself, but he’s got me clenching a few times; out of excitement of course! And he laughs at me as I do. He promised he’ll be extra safe with me on the back, but still it must’ve been the fasted I’d gone in all of Asia.
ttgg rice
It‘s quite cloudy and cool up here, and the temple complex is much smaller than I expected it to be. There are 4 ponds filled with huge koi-fish that Koming feeds and I take pictures of, and a lot of beautiful statues and fountains. Agains the side of the hill some increadibly magestic ancient trees climb up that would take over 10 men to encircle them. They must have been here since the dawn of time.
We sit down at the farthest temple where it’s quiet to get some peace looking out over the temple and the valley. A good way to spend the last day with a very good friend.
Check Flickr for more pictures.

It’s funny how walking up there and back again the retailers keep throwing “You need cool drink, massage, guide, transport?” at us. Jokingly I reply: “Terima kasih, tidak, saya suda punya transportasi.” – No thanks, I already have a ride.

Then we sit at a warung where the food is bad, the view is good, we laugh at the menu and he tells me his war-stories of Kuta.

ttggHe didn’t know the places there, had only been just once himself. We look at one, but he doesn’t like it so we cross the street. It’s a cute place, but when the food comes it’s so disappointing he sends it back to the kitchen. Still he’s not satisfied with the result, so we hardly eat a thing. ‘Grilled fish’ ment fried fish ans ‘springrolls’ ment vegtable-envelopes, both soaking with grease.
We’d been talking about Engrish before and have some laughs aver this menu, not only at the spelling but also at getting the translations wrong.
I had to ask him about the one on the wall in Sunshine Bar ‘Do you keen for a nice drink?’ “Yeah I know, I still have to change that.” His English is as good as anyones, with a few grammar errors here and there, but no none-native is perfect.
He tells me of his adventures in Kuta where security protects tourists, aka annoying drunken Aussies who are always looking to pick a fight, instead of being fair towards locals. But other local have each others backs. There are some heavy stories there.

When we get on the bike to drive back we pass the other place, the one he dismissed before, and we see them grilling a fish over an honest fire. “Well, shit!”

There is so much more for me to learn about the this island and the local lifestyle and it’s religion and traditions. And there’s so much more I want to see of this tiny town Padangbai.
Last night I sat with one of the guys for a while, and asked him to sing to my phone so I could record their genius version of Land Down Under to get me through the time I’ll be away from here:

I come from Padangbai
don’t forget drink jus avocado
tomorrow go to Gili Meno
in Lombok many mosquito

I expressed being sad to leave and wanting to come back soon, for longer, and he replied “You say that now, but in a few weeks you’re going to be stuck in your job again back home and you’re going to forget all about us. Believe me. You’re tourist #10.039 to say this.” And I believe him at that.
But I am decided to prove him wrong. I told him I will be back to find a job and stay.
Wawa of course, I realize that too.
But plenty of expats have landed here in this lovely little town and run successful businesses or are happy freelancing for a few months or years.

And then it’s here; time to say goodbye for the last time. The longest goodbye, it’s ridiculous. And somehow we made it again sampai pagi.

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