I don't imagine my new neighbor remembers a great deal of the sixties and seventies and I believe this southern Californian sixty something is a few grains of rice short of a nasi goring, It's impossible for David to get too far into a topic of conversation without spearing off on another direction every time a new thought is triggered in his erratic bonce. A raging torrent of consciousness streams out of his pinched mouth from nobel peace prize nominations to peculiar cats he has seen while in Bali, and although I find our interaction fun (actually it's hilarious) I can only stay on the crazy train for a short while before I have to get off for a drinks break.
My new friend Dave wears a thin, receding pony-tail covered tightly with an orange and yellow bandanna which accentuates his peaky nose and grey moustache, theseboth sit on a gauntish, angular face. The shell necklace he wears around his neck, he tells me is 'from my first trip to bali in... wait!!! did I tell you about this crazy cat I saw maaan...'
David demands I join him for the best salsa lessons in Ubud and although I feel this could be fraught with danger, it will certainly not be dull or boring and I just might go. Just as long as Ubuds' best salsa lessons aren't in David's room lit with candle light, burning incense and him expecting me to wear the sarong.