S & S's. A windy day.
On a day in late January, we , Sunshine and Badak, were committed to meeting our friend Arthur, who has retired to Bali, at S & S's.
Leaving the hotel at 5pm we sauntered to the beach to be greeted by a bleak, almost empty beach-scape. The wind was howling from the north-west, blowing sand into the faces of the hardier tourists doing their laps and very few sellers were in evidence.
S & S had just left for home, thoughts of profit blown from their minds by the dreaded 'angin kencang', the wind that seems to blow right through the average Balinese. Looking north, we found that our next choice ' Wayan' in front of Mandira steps, had also hoofed it. Looking south we found a rather desolate Ketut starting to pack up. 'Any danger of a beer?' we said and Ketut straight away opened his esky to greet his first customers for the day, he said. Noticing our slight discomfort he immediately opened his beach umbrella and anchored it between us and the breeze, thus making a comfy enough little dell from which to view the surrounding desolation. Diego, Ketut's strong, middle sized, scruffy, canine friend was next to appear, abrogating the most windless spot for his own self, doing his circular bit and then digging his fox-hole like any beleaguered G.I. Not a stupid move, in the circumstances.
Angin Kencang, the strong, fast wind soon turned to Angin Kencing as the heavens opened and piddled mightily upon the beach beneath. The beach umbrella was adjusted and Sunshine's personal brolly was opened to keep us reasonably dry. Next, a drowned rat version of our friend Arthur appeared, looking rather smug at having beaten the rain up from Kuta, mostly. It seems that between some of the awnings there are down-pipes which reach just to shoulder height : Murphy's Law being international, he had been victimised by one of these gushers, big time!
We sat quite snugly for an hour, watching the locals go scurrying by as some hardier tourists insisted on their afternoon stroll, having their expensively acquired tan sand-blasted off, swapping a few tales with the polite, young beach lad Ketut whose English is very good, finding out about the vagaries of a good looking young, over-pestered young Balinese man, endowed with more than his share of good looks. It seems that some of his girl-friends neglect to tell him when they are arriving and this can cause some scheduling problems. Oh, to be young. Oh, to be a Balinese Surfie!
Around 7pm, we bade a happy Ketut good evening and made our way, well-drenched to the comfort of the Air-Con Thai steakhouse off Jl Padma, where the Hatton's Rose, freshly uncorked was on sale at RP15,000 per goblet or RP72,000 per cold bottle : which did we choose? Decisions, decisions.
The garlic bread was good also.