Saturday 25th March at 10am saw the bride and I relaxing in the departure lounge at the Port Hedland International Airport. We actually do live on the airport so we take our luggage over and book in at Skywest Airlines about 9.30am and then take the vehicle home and lock up. Its about a 5 minute jalan jalan from home to the terminal which is no hassle at all even if the temperature is climbing past 39°C on its way to about 42°C. We just know that no matter what the weather in Bali is like it will be as glorious as always, come rain or shine. Even though today begins our, I think, 39th trip to Bali over the last 25 years, the same excited anticipation is with us and is as strong as ever. Every Saturday a Skywest Fokker 100 twin jet departs Perth as a domestic flight and transits Karratha setting down domestic passengers there and embarking international passengers for the onwards 30 minute leg to Port Hedland, where it uplifts more passengers and converts to an international flight. We board Foxtrot November Juliet at 10.45am and taxi out, becoming airborne off runway 14 right on time at 11am. Once airborne we bank left and set a course of 002° over the crystal blue coastal waters of Port Hedland, direct to Bali and commence climbing to a cruising level of 35000ft, about 10500 metres. The very attentive and excellent cabin crew are busy catering to each individuals every needs and are also serving pre lunch drinks. The Duchess opts for an apple juice while I wrap my claws around a bitterly cold tinnie of Carlton Mid Strength, which disappeared into the dark recesses of my engine room without so much as even touching the sides. I swear that the cabin attendants are mind readers for no sooner had my now empty can come to rest on the tray table when this angel of mercy appeared at my side and echoed the thoughts that were running around in what purports to be my brain 'would you care for another, Bob?' To this I smile and politely reply 'Yes please. I mean is the Pope Catholic or are the Kennedys gun shy?' My magazine now replenished I relax back into the most comfortable 34 inch pitch of the Fokkers seats. Out to the right is the Rowley Shoals and they are so clear and seem so close that one imagines that they are just at arms length. Almost touchable! The plane breezes along over endless fields of cotton wool clouds and all is tranquil and this little mobile part of the world is at peace. No sooner had the lunch tucker been devoured and the cabin crew cleaned up when we began our descent into Ngurah Rai. Just a short 1 hour and 50 minutes after we departed Port Hedland we touch down in Bali. We taxi to our parking bay near the domestic terminal and deplane, then board a bus that will take us on the short journey to the international arrivals terminal. I guess I should tell you something for nothing here. Pat and I first met when we were just 13 years old and going to high school and that is now 50 years ago, however I still get a warm fluffy feeling of delight overtake me when I see a look of excitement and pleasure invade her countenance. It happens every time we go to Bali. I can see by the pure delight that beams from her face that the cares of any tomorrows will surely wait until this day is well and truly done, as her eyes, ears and nose observe and draw in the welcoming sights, sounds and smells that are so much part of the magic of Bali. I witness a softening contentment in the brides eyes and that alone will always make this Island of the Gods so special to me. Believe me, after so many years of putting up with me she deserves every bit of contentment and joy that may come her way. There is no other international flights in at the same time as us so it is in a very short time that our VOA's are paid and we are through immigration and waiting on our luggage, which is also off very quickly. We are met at the carousel by Nyoman, an agent for Island Bound Travel, who is there to provide us with transport. We explain that we did not include transport in our package as we have our own waiting for us but we do however have transport vouchers. We hand over the vouchers and compensate him so that he is not out of pocket. He assures us that he is quite happy and wishes us a pleasant stay in Bali. We are through customs in about 2 minutes and out onto the concourse where we are met by our ever smiling long time friend and driver, Wayan Ranu, his wife and two gorgeous children (our second adopted Balinese family). After the usual animated and excited reunion and chit chat we are soon on our way to the Gazebo Hotel in Sanur, where we are welcomed as old friends and regular guests. Before Wayan and Nyoman leave Pat dives into our luggage and almost empties it and as she gives them the contents to take up to his village at Klungkung. A couple of weeks before we left home Pat had asked our daughters and son to go through their wardrobes and pack up all the clothes that they and their children no longer needed or did not fit into. Our room, 210, is the one that we requested and Pat is real happy, as it is quite large and roomy. Very bright and airy with a larger than usual fridge (fits more Bintangs and other not so necessary stuff). It also has a great outlook across the gardens and manicured lawns. After unpacking we head over the road opposite Gazebo to change some coin of the realm into rupee doops at an exchange rate of 6400 to the dollar. Now armed with a heap of local currency we take a very leisurely stroll down Jalan Tamlingan to Hardy's Grosir where we stock up on room supplies. Enough to warrant the return trip back to the Gazebo by bemo. The weather is overcast and looks and feels as if it might rain but glorious just the same. After a bit of a spell and a scrub up we head down to the beach pathway and wander along to the Bonsai Café for dinner, where we are met by our Bali 'grandson' from our first Balinese adopted family. He is now 22 and we have known him almost before he was born and have enjoyed watching him growing up as much as we enjoy watching our own childrens children as they grow. Pat has been suffering a nagging head ache all day so after dinner we decide on an early night. I certainly don't have a problem with that as the Bintangs I have consumed have made me quite mellow and it has been a long but extremely pleasant day. Next morning after a cup of coffee and a shower we head out onto the main drag and turn right and wander along about 300 meters to Randy's Bar and Restaurant for brekky. The fare here is excellent and great value. As we consume our breakfast the lack of tourists is glaringly apparent. We have never seen this road so quiet in 25 years. You don't have to be an Einstein to realise that the lack of tourism is hurting the Balinese real bad and you curse the offal that has caused this pain. After brekky, we 'grab a cab' and head into Denpasar to the Tiara Dewatu, where I have my lamps tested and I order some new glasses both for work and for home. We have been going here for some years now and are more than happy with the product and the service. I pick some new frames as the old ones have seen better days. I order four pairs and they will be ready in nine days. We have always enjoyed shopping here so the obligatory tour of the complex is undertaken. During this looksee the Duchess is attracted to some eager beaver young folk who were flogging Sumo Thumper infrared hand held massage tools. They give her a bit of a tune up with the machine and she declares that it was indeed relaxing. Too late! She is now the proud owner of one of these machines and halfway back to the Gazebo is still espousing wonder as to why she bought it as she didn't really need it. 'Don't worry' I laughingly say. 'Even if you never use it, it will come in handy'. Back to the Gazebo for a granny nap then a tub and scrub and off to our friend Putu's, Madeloes Restaurant for dinner. Next morning, we go next door to the Gazebo to Made's Frangipani restaurant for brekky. Top notch tucker it is too. Just love sitting so close to the road watching the traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, making their way in both directions. Again the lack of tourists is patently obvious. After brekky Wayan picks us up and we head over to Kuta. Wayan drops us off at the corner of jalans Melasti and Legian and we arrange for him to meet us at the Kuta Art Market. It is a truly glorious Bali morning and we take a leisurely stroll along Jalan Legian all the way to Bemo Corner then down to the Kuta Art Markets. It is so very quiet compared to what it used to be and you can almost count the tourists. It pains us to see the looks of despair upon the faces of the traders that once beamed with their world famous smiles. They are cracking hardy but they are hurting and really doing it tough. Again I curse the fanatical offal who caused this despair. We enter the Art Markets and this area that is normally bustling and crowded with shoppers from the four corners of the world is totally bereft of visible tourists. There are so few that I can actually count them. Including us, obvious tourists totalled nine. Never, in twenty five years, have we ever seen this square so empty. It exemplifies the commercial pain and suffering that Bali is experiencing. One would need to be made of stone not to be moved and to wonder just how on earth are they surviving. How are they managing to feed and clothe their families? My curse upon those who caused this calamity now includes expletives I am sure that as yet have not been invented. From the Art Markets we went to Centro, a favourite of the cheese and kisses. Just love Bread Talk and finished up with heaps of goodies for us and Wayan and family. That evening we headed down the beach path about 200 metres to the Bonsai Café for dinner. Top tucker and dingin Bintang here. A must do when in Bali. Wayan picked us up next day after brekky and we headed into Ramayana (clothes for the grandkids) and then across to Rimo (computer looksee for me). From there we headed into Jalan Hasinudin to visit the gold shops as Pat wanted a light gold chain necklace for each of the three granddaughters. After a good look around she settled on a purchase from Melasti at 130,000rph per gram (about $21AUS a gram). Very inexpensive compared to Australia. That done we slip round to Jalan Gaja Mada in search of some musical, squeaky shoes for our youngest grandson. After a fair bit of shuffling back and forth we find some in the very first shop that we had passed but not entered, right alongside were our car was parked. Thats Bali. That evening we were to meet David Bolton (David UK) at the Cat and Fiddle Restaurant in Jalan Tamlingan, Sanur. We were there and he was there but sadly we missed each other. The Cat and Fiddle is excellent value and the tucker is tops. Try the Guinness Beef Steak Pie with real mashed potatoes. Yummy yum yum! Next day was Nyepi eve and we arranged to meet Bali Grandson Putu at Mcdonalds corner in Sanur to watch the Ogah Ogah parade. We arrived at about six pm and after a tree designed for people considerably shorter than me to walk under collided with my noggin, giving me instant brain damage, we took up a position, along with a couple of thousand of others, on the corner and waited the arrival of the parade. At about eight pm the police came along and announced that the parade would not now begin until about nine pm. We didn't think we could handle another hour of inactivity just standing and waiting so we called it quits there but had this not so brilliant idea that if we hurried back to Madeleos we could catch the parade at that end of Sanur as it passed by the restaurant. We made it there just in time to see absolutely nothing for the parade had already finished. We were not too disappointed as we had seen quite a few parades before. Still we were glad that we didn't have any of the grandchildren with us for they surely would have been disappointed. After the bemo ride back to the Gazebo it became patently obvious to me that my riding in the back of bemos was now at an end for while getting in was just a tad of a struggle, getting out was a task almost akin to the cleaning of the Aegean Stables. My bones are just not as forgiving as they once were so it is an upfront ride for me from now on. The annoying thing is that Pat, who is the same age, has no trouble at all and she takes great delight in letting me know it at every opportunity. Next day was Nyepi Day so it was a day of completely not do anything nor go anywhere day. We have always respected the traditions and culture of Bali and the Balinese and so the respecting of Nyepi day is not hard or inconvenient to us. As a matter of fact we enjoy being in Bali for Nyepi. Friday the 31st saw us, after brekky at Made Frangipani, just relaxing at the hotel when our long time friend, Tri DiJaya, who was the manager of the Sativa Cottages for many years, rang and invited us to a Dim Sum lunch at the Sanur Plaza. We accepted his invitation with glee and what a wonderful repast it was. It was so good to catch up with Tri again. Over lunch we made arrangements for Tri to pick us up the next day and to go with him to Candi Dasa to lunch with another long time friend of Tri's and guest at the Sativa Cottages, Jean Banning, at the Water Garden Hotel. This a really lovely small hotel with a great fit-out and outlook. But if we thought that Kuta and Sanur were quiet then Candi Dasa and Padang Bai were even more so. Sunday the 2nd April saw us doing some more shopping on the way to Wayan and Nyoman Ranu's accommodation for lunch. At least once every trip these lovely young people insist that we have a meal with them which of course we always do. We would never insult them by refusing their offer but are ever so mindful that they like so many Balinese are doing it tough and that they can really ill afford to be catering to us. So Pat with all her tact and persuasive demeanour some time back hit upon a solution to this conundrum. We have lunch with them as long as she can take Nyoman shopping at Macro. It is truly amazing that for about what we spend at the supermarket in Port Hedland on foodstuffs and household commodities each week, and we are certainly not extravagant, keeps the Ranu's in food stocks and commodities for nearly three months. A 25kg bag of top quality rice is only about $18Aus. During lunch I enquired of Wayan just how much he recovered monetarily for himself after all expenses for a car hire for a day. Believe me it is indeed so minimal that I truly wonder at the ability to survive on so little an amount. I remember so well when Wayan had purchased his own car on credit (the never never), had worked hard and had paid it off for two years and had two years left to run on the loan when the mongrel curs forever shattered Bali's peace and tranquillity by detonating the Kuta cowardly bombings that not only so cruelly destroyed so many innocent lives but heralded the downward spiral of Bali's economy. Tourism declined at an enormous rate. No tourists then no work for the car drivers. No work then no money to pay monetary obligations. No pay monetary obligations then loan foreclosures and vehicle repossessions. That is how Wayan, like so many others, lost his car and all the money thus far paid and furthermore his livelihood too. That vehicle was his only security and his security had been dissolved in the fallout from those horrendous events. The second bombings lubricated the spiral of descent into an economic abyss and despair. I asked how much a vehicle suitable to his needs would cost and was quite honestly surprised to discover it was less than I used to burn up yearly on cigarettes that were destroying my health and well being. I had wasted a huge monetary amount over the years in the pursuit of such a mindless pastime until the April of 2004 when my fuel pump cried enough is enough and threw in the towel. I had a quick peek through the portals of darkness and realised almost too late that the alternative to continued smoking was not an option to be embraced, so it was from that moment on the purveyors of this insidious habit lost a strong supporter. Pat and I just looked knowingly at each other and without a word being spoken understood what the other was thinking. So it was that the cigarette companies loss was Wayans gain, for the savings retrieved from less than one year of not smoking saw Wayan the proud owner of his very own 2001 Mitsibishi Colt wagon. He at least had some security once again returned to him and his family. Just imagine how far assistance could be broadened if all of us Bali supporters gave up smoking for a year and channelled the savings into adopted families or community projects or even that additional holiday on the Island of the Gods. Just a shared utopian thought !!!!!! On Tuesday 4th April we invited Tri and Jean to dinner at the Cat and Fiddle and the restaurant gained another two impressed clients. Picked up my new glasses from Tiara Optik on the Wednesday and I am as happy as a flea at a dog show for the finished product is as excellent as always. Thursday dawns with the realisation that our time here this trip is diminishing rapidly. Ever noticed that in a two week stay in Bali that the first week passes at an acceptable, easy and relaxed pace while the second week seems to fly by with the speed of a thousand startled Gazelles? The ball and chain had booked herself into the 'Natural Spa & Relaxation Centre' in Jalan Tamlingan just a short stroll from the Gazebo. It is her favourite panel and paint shop and for a comparable minimal charge settles in for four hours of relaxing attention at least once a trip and always just before we leave for home. Left to my own devices for such a period I ensconce myself at the Gazebo bar where, armed with a book and a ready supply of copious amounts of that life saving liquid gold, Bintang, I settle down to read and to contemplate the world around me and the passing parade as it moves unhurriedly along the beachfront promenade close before my eyes. As I contemplate my surroundings I realise how much has changed in the past twenty five years. I call up my first Bintang of the day and with the first intake of the heady liquid my mind drifts back through the clouds of time to an earlier period in Bali. An earlier period when there was no paved thoroughfare along the beach front of Sanur. When there were no restaurants or cafes along the way save for those attached to the very few hotels that bordered the Sanur beach. To a time when only the brave or the lost walked any distance away from their respective hotels along the beach. It was time when Des Austin was the voice of 'Radio Hyatt' and his gentle dulcet tones would herald the arrival of a new day to the Hyatt guests. It was a time when the word terrorism was vaguely associated in the 1970's with the Baader-Meinhof Group, more commonly known as the Red Army Faction of Germany or the kidnapping of Patty Hearst by the Symbionese Liberation Army. All of which were a lifetime and half a world away and had absolutely no relevance to this island paradise. Then in one terrible, sharp and disastrous movement Bali was ejected from Paradise by the actions of religious fanaticism and was thrust into a world for which it was not yet sufficiently prepared for economic survival. Bali had been metaphorically raped and her worldly virginity and youthfulness brutally stripped from her. By my third Bintang my thoughts are clearing and it becomes apparent to me that the brutality of these cowardly attacks upon this defenceless Island are driven by the frustrations of the wicked gutless swine who perpetrated these attacks who can no longer wait for the occupation by stealth to take effect. Why would these animals care if their wicked deeds cause the death of innocent Balinese as well as the hated westerners for they are not Muslim and so are infidels also and not relevant. You can bet my Bali Rolex and a hundred dollars to a pinch of possum poo that the object of these worthless fanatics is to cripple Bali economically so that total resignation and subjugation to a Muslim majority central government will be just a matter of course. The desire by the hardline Muslim faction of the government to implement the ridiculous pornography laws on Bali, will, if successful, achieve what the bombers had hoped for but failed to do, only much faster and without bloodshed and that is to cripple Bali financially and consign this struggling island heaven into economic oblivion. After a heavy quaff of my fourth Bintang I have no difficulty of declaring to myself that ‘God! I do love beer, especially this delectable brew'. I guess that it was a taste that I acquired as a publican for 34 years. I check my 'Rolex' and take note that my warden is not due back for ages so I settled back once more and drift into my musing again. My book is now closed and lain to rest upon the bar. No more pages of the written word will be digested today. For some reason I wonder why it is that I haven't had a desire to infiltrate my now recovering lungs once again with nicotine and smile the arrogant smile of a conqueror. I laugh to myself as I contemplate the irony of how my rejecting the substance that was destroying my health and helping fill the coffers of the purveyors of this insidious legal drug had now given some hope and future stability to an average young Balinese Family, none of whom smoked at all and never had. As I sit with my thoughts, sipping my beer, my eyes wander up and down the pathway to the extent of my vision in both directions and take note once more that the absence of tourists is glaringly apparent. Mongrel, gutless terrorists I mumble into my beer. As my eyes sweep across the waters of the bay and settle on the waves breaking over the reef it comes to me that to my mind each and every time these religious fanatics perpetrate and act of terrorism in the name of their God that results in the death and injury of many innocent victims that not too long after a natural disaster occurs that results in the loss of many, in some cases thousands, of mainly Muslim lives. The irony of all of this is that it is the hated western countries that willingly and without malice contribute both material and monetary aid. The fanatics want the supply of aid and monetary support to continue to flow into their countries of origin but still they seek to destroy those who supply that aid. How does one ponder the imponderable? I am just finishing my sixth Bintang when as if by magic my beloved ball and chain appears at my side and my reverie is abruptly terminated forthwith. Pat orders a refreshing watermelon juice and being the gentleman I am I consider it impolite for her to drink alone so I force myself to consume another Bintang to accompany her. She wears the glow that always attaches itself to a woman who has just had the full beauty parlour works and I am about to make some comment when I realise that whatever I say will come out wrong and such being the case there would be far less painful ways of terminating ones life than being torn apart limb by limb by an insulted and angry wife so I simply say 'you look good'. She is only half way through her watermelon juice when I discover my beer is empty. My chivalry is still intact so I cant let her drink alone, so its 'setu Bintang Terima Kasi' once more. We then have a light late lunch and then quietly enjoy the remainder of the afternoon. Putu and his girlfriend Vani and her brother Devin join us for dinner and we have a most enjoyable evening at the Gazebo listening to the band that is playing. Soon its Friday and only two days to go. After Brekky at Made's Frangipani we have a lazy morning at the hotel and collect the woodwork that we have ordered and some painted wooden eggs from the in-house artisans. My masters voice sizes up our gear and decides that 'once again' there is too much for the cases so we toddle over the road and purchase a Bali bag. Another to add to the many that we already have at home! We send them to the kids with the stuff we bring back for them but for some reason, and I suspect that they have as many as us, the send them back again. At about 10.30 Pat suggests that we go for a jalan jalan along the beach before lunch. Now this I herald as a good idea as it will build both an appetite and a thirst. We wander down to the beach path through the hotel gardens and I fortify myself with Bintang before heading off on our journey of discovery. It is an extremely pleasant morning and weather is really good. A little overcast but great just the same. We meander along the path past the Tanjung Sari and then the Besakih down to the Griya Santrian. The powers that be have done a wonderful job in reclaiming the beach, installing controlling groynes and paving the walkway that runs all the way from around the Mercure at south Sanur to the Grand Bali Beach at north Sanur. To compliment this construction the hotels along the beachfront have kept the sand neatly swept and raked each morning and the pathway along their particular frontage in good order and repair, and it is to their credit that they do so. However, detracting from the hotels fine efforts is the lack of attention given to the beach sands and pathway by the wealthy owners of the private properties dotted in prime positions among the beachfront hotels. Whether you are riding a sit down and run all the time machine, pushing a toddler in a pram or simply just enjoying a stroll along the beach path be prepared to trudge through and force your way through heavy sand that mars the integrity of the path and runs the length of the private properties. Obviously what occurs over the fence is of no concern or interest to these owners. It would appear to be a case of supporting regulations that impact upon the hotel operators while abrogating their own moral responsibilities and maintaining a lack of interest in their own community and local environment. It really is a shame as the pathway is now a major thoroughfare from on end of Sanur to the other and serves both tourists and locals alike. Still, for all of that it is a really wonderful stroll along the path at anytime, so the bride and I just ambled along until we reached the Peneeda View, where at which point we crossed through the hotel and headed back to the Gazebo along Jalan Tamlingan. On the way back we stopped for an excellent lunch of large deep fried king prawns and potato salad at the 'Gassolin Alley Lazer Sports Bar'. This is a great place for an entertaining evening and at the weekends for watching all sports, including Aussie rules football, live on tv. As it was our penultimate evening we headed down to Madeloes for dinner and to say our farewells until next time. Come Saturday morning we headed off for a last 'Hungry Mans Brekky' at Randy's. As we had nothing planned we took our time and immersed ourselves in the atmosphere of our surroundings, drawing in further vision to add to our bank of fond memories. Back at the Gazebo we packed up all we could to ease the burden of the task come the morning of departure. Pat decided that she would have her nails painted so we trotted off down to the bar where the resident 'nail painting person' attended to her requirements. This once more left me to my own devices. What else could I do to pass the time as pleasantly as possible than front the bar? I mean, what else could I do? So I did just that. I really thought that it took far longer to paint fingernails with flowers and such. It wasn't long before she was back and suggesting that perhaps it would be a good time for lunch. I capitulated without a struggle. That evening we went down to the Bonsai for dinner and to say goodbye to our friend 'George' and the staff. We had had a few days when it rained but they were mostly at night time when we were busy throwing Zeds at the ceiling. We decided that we would take a table inside as opposed to normally sitting outside on the beach. It proved to be extremely beneficial that we did for we had just finished dinner when the heavens opened up and down came the rain accompanied by very strong winds. When it eased off a bit we bolted for home. The intention being that we would finish the evening off at the Gazebo bar. That was not to be for the wind was of a strength, we had never before encountered in Bali. Nothing like the cyclonic winds of Port Hedland but extremely strong for Bali just the same. It blew and it poured down in heavy perpendicular sheets. A break in the torrential downpour saw us back in our room. After a leisurely brekky at the Gazebo we finished packing and met Wayan and family at reception and headed to the airport. The whole family were dressed in their temple best and were heading to the Besakih mother temple, after we left, to give thanks for their good fortune. It is probably a good thing now with the changes to the drop off points at the airport departures. There is not the facility for long and protracted goodbyes. You get out of the vehicle and virtually go straight through without delay. Security is most definitely more apparent. It is usually worth a box of tissues for Pat when she says her goodbyes but this time it would have been worth two boxes for both of our adopted Balinese families were there to see us off. A few quick sincere hugs and a river of tears then we were gone. The time at the airport flew by and we were in the air at 1pm, over the top, and in Port Hedland two hours later at 3pm. Not a day goes by that one of us does not look to the north and muse, 'Bali, you are just over there and so close. One day very soon we shall return'