I woke up around 7 am and wanted to sleep more but couldn’t.
I got up, bought a papaya down the street, and cut it up at the hostel. I ate about 3 quarters of it, and saved the other quarter for later.
I recorded an episode of the podcast, giving an update on how I’m doing after 5 months of travel. This will be my first episode after a month hiatus— I don’t really know why I took a break, but I guess I was in a bit of a creative slump. I just couldn’t bring myself to the mic. I’m ready now, though! It felt good to be back on the mic. I missed it.
I quickly edited the episode at the hostel, and then walked to Malaika Secret Moksha to work on the blog. I really wanted to try their coconut latte. Sadly, however, it was closed. I went across the street to another coffee shop.
After I had ordered, I realized it didn’t have wifi. So my visit was a bit pointless.
I semi-chugged the coffee and then went back to the hostel.
The girl in my dorm with the really bad leg infection was up, and started telling me how depressed she was. She was sick of sleeping all day and not being able to do anything, and was running out of money. She also didn’t know whether to go to Cambodia to see her other friend, to Chiang Mai to help her suicidal friend, or to go home. As she was talking, she started crying.
To me, the answer was obvious: go home. But I didn’t want to be totally insensitive, and I didn’t feel it was my place to really give her advice, so I just told her that her sadness is temporary and she will be fine soon.
I really felt for her– I’m sure she’s feeling really lonely and helpless– but really didn’t know what I could do for her.
Check out was at 12, so I packed up my stuff around 11:30 and left my bags in the lobby while I went to find lunch.
I walked down the street to a warung, aka a local restaurant.
Here’s how warungs work: you get a plate with a generous portion of rice, point to what you want from the counter, and then fill your bowl however much you like.
This one was called Warung Jawa Moro Seneng. I got eggplant, some pickled radish, stir fried veggies, and diced potato and tofu.
My bowl came out to be 11,000 rupiahs, which is less than a dollar.
It was spicy (so happy Indonesians like spicy food), delicious, and pretty healthy.
I called a Grab to take me to Canggu, where I would be moving to today.
The ride took about an hour with all the traffic. Bali is insanely busy!
I checked in to my hostel, Jungle House, which I actually really like. The beds have bamboo all around, which simultaneously adds ambience and privacy. The bathroom is connected to the room but it’s outdoors, so it’s nice and clean, and big.
I wanted to check out the beach, so I changed into my bikini and started the mile-long walk to the beach.
Canggu is NOT a pedestrian-friendly area. Motorbikes kept whizzing past me, inches away, and it was honestly a bit scary. There are no sidewalks, which I think kind of goes against the hipster, surfer vibe of the town.
I walked past countless smoothie bowl places, trendy coffee shops, and vegan eateries. I forgot I was in Asia. Everything was straight out of LA.
I got to the beach, which was very crowded. There was a huge beach bar pumping loud techno music. I felt like I was in Vegas.
In the ocean were dozens of surfers. I don’t get how surfers all surf together without hitting each other?? Please someone explain.
I found a relatively empty area on the beach, spread out my sarong, and started re-reading the Power of Now.
Eventually, I got way too hot that I needed to jump into the ocean. It didn’t seem like anyone was going to take my stuff, so I decided to quickly run to the ocean and just splash myself in water.
I got back, and nothing was stolen. Woo!
30 minutes later, I got super hot again and did the same thing. This time, I spent a big longer in the water, but my stuff was still safe and sound. Yay!
Around 4, I started to head toward Trina and Pierre’s guesthouse. They are my friends from NY: Pierre is a photographer and I met him last summer when we did a photoshoot together. Trina is his wife, and we became friends just before they left NY for their world tour. They are 7 months into their year-long trip. We first met up in the Philippines back in January— we spent a week together over the New Year on a gorgeous private beach— then again in Bangkok, and now for the third time in Bali. It’s funny how our paths keep crossing.
I walked past more fancy gelato shops, boutique bikini stores, and Instagrammable cafes. Bali doesn’t seem to be the most backpacker-friendly place– it’s all about looking good, eating trendy food, and sunset views…
We chatted, catching up on our travels and what we’ve been up to in the past 4 months, in their cute little guesthouse.
We were all hungry around 6, so we went to find some dinner. We walked up and down the street, trying to find a cheap but good option, before sitting down at a warung called Warung Barokah 99.
I got rice with fresh cabbage & cucumber, tempeh, and tofu. It was really good and FREAKING SPICY! I was dizzy at the end of the meal, that’s why spicy it was. But I loved it. I think I might be a sadist.
The warungs are honestly so good that I don’t think I even want to waste my money on any of the trendy places I keep seeing here, however delicious they look.
We got a huge coconut from a small market for 15,000 rupiahs (about a dollar) and took it back to their guesthouse to share.
We hung out for a bit longer, and Pierre drove me back on his scooter around 9.
It was so good to see them! It’s always so nice to hang out with people who you know you don’t have to say goodbye to and possibly never see again. I know they will be in my life past these travels, and theres something especially comforting about that.