Brits Abroad Meet Australians Abroad

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Aeroflot all is forgiven. The train arrived in Surabaia late and consequently we missed the ferry to Bali. All was not lost as our taxi driver suggested that we try for a plane and he took us to the airport. We were in the air thirty minutes later. The plane was owned by that world-renowned continental airline Buraq Airways. One look at the plane and we knew why the flight only cost £15. It was a small propeller driven effort, which would seat about 40 people and was covered in rust. Half way into the flight the combination of the flight and the crate loads of beer we'd devoured the night before took their toll and we all began filling our sick bags.

We arrived on Bali a bit the worse for wear, but well ahead of the ferry, and we headed for a beach resort known as Kuta. Where the British go to Spain for two weeks of complete drunken depravity, so the Australians go to Bali. And just as the British on the Costa del Sol are true ambassadors of their country's culture, so are the Australians in Kuta. Now would be a good time for the standard jokes about Australians and culture (or rather lack of) but, as we would find out when we had spent some time in Australia, that reputation is really not deserved. In the mean time, the Australians in Kuta were doing their level best to make us believe that Australia is full of beer swilling slobs.

We felt right at home!

We spent most of the daytime whilst in Kuta down the beach, but not working on our tans as Kuta beach is fantastic for surfing. None of us, except Tiny, had ever tried it before, and it's surprising how difficult it is. Catching a wave in the first place is not easy, and you need to do that before you can even try and get up on the board. I managed it about twice before quickly loosing my balance and falling off.

The big problem with Kuta beach is that you could not sit there for more than a couple of seconds without someone trying to hassle you to buy something. Often, there was actually a queue so no longer had you got rid of one then the next one would move straight in. They also got most upset when you told them that you were not interested, before they had shown you what it was they wanted to sell.

In the evening, we found a Kentucky Fried Chicken next-door to a Burger King which was next-door to a Swensens Ice-cream Parlour. We had invented a feat of true male gluttony, hereto known as 'the triple'.

We returned to Kuta later for another day of surfing before we left for Australia (see Surfing Dudes).

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Photos

Kuta Beach
Pain-in-the-Backside Beach Sellers on Kuta Beach