My moments

It’s no wonder I’m sitting here writing on the leafy terrace of my homestay in Bali. Once again I have to come to Indonesia and have travelled around starting and full loop finishing here. I have a few days left to chill and take in the whole journey. From island to island - by planes, boats and buses - along with my last trip here in the winter, I have seen so much, and lived memorable experiences. Yet there is still so much to see down here. I have the wanderlust dilemma of coming back here again or going elsewhere; this world is so big and glorious, I want to take hold of as much as I can. 

But let's stay present. Let me throw down my words and try to let them flow on my motorways, summarising in my head while I sit and listen to nature's night life in the trees and the soft breeze in which I am immersed this warm evening.

Like anywhere I go, I could talk so much about places, all the white beaches, waterfalls, coves and turquoise lagoons. All the temples and rice fields, or all the endless lush I am shrouded by while grazing through on my scooter creating these diaries. The spine of volcanoes along the way. Yet as amazing as all these things are, what is making my fingers tap this keyboard are instead various small moments, wiring together to give me light.

Whether it be people or places, I let this journey flow, I let it carry me along and let it fuse with my instinct. Surfing is a big part of Bali and my fascination with waves is well documented here, even though I don't surf myself. I watch intently nevertheless and at times I don't get why a surfer would intentionally pull out of a long barrel, pulling up and off the lip. Maybe to do a trick or try a manouvre, but in  my world I would drop in on that wave, cut back o the lip and then back down on it again to prolong the ride, surging along it all the way for as long as I can, caressing the wall of water with your hand. Like playing a drum groove instead of overdoing drum fills. Live the wave. Ride the groove. Join the dots.

While sitting on so many beaches I have noticed time doesn't go by hour to hour, it goes from moment to mood, aided by the flow of the ocean. The overall destination is unknown, we cannot know the future, I live the journey, the moments, right here, right now.

Going from apologising for stumbling into a funeral festival for a 101 year-old tradtional village elder, to humbled and honoured to be welcomes in and given endless amounts of coffee, salaks, and conversation and 'Hallo Mister'. Leaving them two hours later to their village feast with heart and head full to the brim.

Kids delightfully running to get fallen coconuts as they are cut down from way up high. Sitting with locals in warungs talking about volcanoes from Java all the way through to Nusa Tenggara. Talking football with others as I wait for the ferry to further explore another island. Hallo Mister again. Scruffy wooden shacks with people sat under them for soooo long, watching life go by. Watching different generations come to gether over a game of chess as slow as the daily life itself there. Watching the little kids watching the adults play. Learning the game, learning from the kids. Driving a scooter on Jalan Uluwatu, dodging with bursts between cars where there is a constant stretch of standstill traffic, to watching in the opposite lane coming towards me, an old woman on foot with a large straw basket expertly balanced on her head taking on all the vehicles and doing a better job dodging them than any of us scooter drivers. Hallo Mister, how are yuuu? Sat in the back of a local mini-bus next to an '80s boombox playing Indonesian tumpin' bass, and extra tanks of fuel by my legs with people smoking on board, especially the toothless grinning old guy right next to me. Thinking I might at least die happy if this goes up in flames. Getting addicted to dragon fruit and getting a daily fix from local markets, talking about the difference of insides in the pink Indonesian version and the Vietnamese white version. A traditional massage then another one. Of all the parts of the body, never underestimate the value and sensation of having your hands massaged. Jasmine and frangipane scents followed by lemon ginger tea and a fruit fusion tapas plate with more dragon fruit served to you as you come out of the massage room gliding, floating on air. A Bintang beer at sunset. Even more Hallo Misters and friendly beeps of horns at you. Drinking and eating a fresh coconut straight from the tree after you watch the boy expertly climb the tree and then ask which one you want, expertly slicing it open with a machete.. Stopping the scooter in the middle of the bridge to observe surf breaks at Padang Padang beach below. Playing with dogs in homestay gardens, dodging dogs on the roads. And the cows with big horns always win when you come against them on the road - pull over kind sir. Lemongrass in everything I eat please, but as much as I like spicy, please no more sambal sauce at breakfast. Another sunset over the sea, another Bintang beer. Finally speaking to a guy in Sumba who spoke good English, whose name is Bintang. Indonesian language full immersion, not resisting a grin when they inquisitively look at you and ask how come you can speak some of their Bahasa. Days driving around on a sccoter, stopping in random shops along the way for petrol from filled up spirit bottles on roadside racks, like you were buying the local moonshine in improvised off-licences. Constant energy flow...conscious breathing. Sauna, steamroom. Managing to smash my record and sit in an ice bath for 15 minutes by managing my breathing...and just out of principle because 15 is my number. Soothing soaks in natural steaming hot sulphur-rich springs in streams coming down directly from a volcano. Training in a rusty old backstreet gym with no air-con or fans in 32 degrees heat that not even Rocky had trained in. Being woken before dawn by the calling to prayer over the town loudspeakers. Cockerels cock-a-doodling every morning as punctual as the calling to prayer. Thick chunky wood. Bendy bamboo.

These are my moments over this last month. Feel free to take them, twist, mould and elaborate them and make them fit you, they are not mine to keep all to myself, hence why I write here. Thank you for reading this far, but please do me another favour - wander and live your own moments too, feel them and appreciate them. And then let me know all about them. I am all ears.