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Published: April 4th 2012
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We boarded our ship in Singapore last Thursday and sailed east for two days before arriving in fabled Bali; back packer paradise and the "Love" section of Elizabeth Gilbert’s tripartite spiritual memoire: "
Eat. Pray. Love." Bali reminded me of the Asia I knew in the 70s and 80s: hot, crowded, chaotic -- just the way I like it. Seriously.
Especially when compared to squeaky-clean Singapore. We spent four days there and were hard-put to find anything left of its original charm. It's all been obliterated in the name of progress and a very muscular brand of consumerism. We stayed in an 18-story hotel (on the 13
th floor – a Western superstition unknown in Asia), located minutes from the city’s main shopping hub, Orchard Road. Singapore in general, and Orchard Road in particular, is Rodeo Drive on steroids: one enormous air-conditioned shopping mall.
Which is not to say that there's nothing worth seeing there. What’s most interesting about the place, in addition to its stunning architecture, is its efficient use of space. Instead of crosswalks, for example, there are escalators to take you down to tunnels under the intersections. The tunnels contain luxury shopping malls, some
of them four levels deep, all of them air conditioned, upscale, and very high-design.
Bugis Boogie We bought a couple of three-day passes to the double-decker Hippo Hop-On/Hop-Off Tourist bus and rode it around town seeing the city in air-conditioned comfort. Even the traditional Bugis Market, a covered warren of small shops and food stalls, has been spiffed up. While Nancy was getting her hair done at a Bugis beauty salon, I took a stroll around the market. Most interesting thing I saw there was an inflatable doll with advertising on the box that reminded me of home. “Three love holes,” it read. “Or use as extra passenger for HOV Lane.” This my fellow Denverites will recognize as a reference to the guy in Denver who got busted last year for driving in the HOV lane with a “love doll” by his side.
Ku De Ta We spent the better part of a day at the Marina Bay Casino and Hotel. That’s the one with the three 57-story buildings spanned by a rooftop park the length of two aircraft carriers and a battleship. Five thousand rooms and the obligatory shopping mall, along
with a casino where they charge a hundred bucks just to get in the door. We gave that a skip.
We did, however, go to the 57
th floor for a drink at the Ku De Ta Bar which offered iced ginger beer and a panoramic view of the city. I asked the waiter what “Ku De Ta” means and he assured me that it was Indonesian for “when the enemy comes to your island to overthrow the government.” Sounds suspiciously like "coup d’etat," but I didn’t argue.
Cab Driver Con-Fab Most of our information about Singapore, outside of the running commentary offered on the Hippo Bus, came to us via the cab drivers who shuttled us back and forth from our hotel to Orchard Road. One of them told us that driving a cab is one of the two most lucrative small businesses you can own in Singapore (the other being a small food stall). He told us he earns upwards of $6000 a month (around $5100 US).
“How many days a week you drive?” I asked.
“Seven day,” he said.
“How many hours a day?”
“Twelve hour,” he said. “Six
hour Sunday.”
Another cabbie told us he only wears “branded shirts,” and that his job has enabled him to put his son through college. “He CEO now,” he said proudly.
Yet another cabbie filled us in on the draconian punishments infamously meted out by the Singaporian judicial system: “Murda; hang," he said, tersely. "Steal; jail. Moless (molest); beat. Spit, fi hunna dolla.”
Boat People Singapore’s nice enough I guess, but after four days, the shopping mall scene had begun to wear a little thin. So we were glad to board our ship for phase three of the adventure. Coming aboard was an instant re-emersion into Western culture. Our fellow passengers are almost all Aussies, Kiwi’s and Brits, with only a handful of Yanks like ourselves. It was great to taste some good home cookin’, but we felt sort of awkward using knives and forks after a month of eating with chopsticks in China and Sing.
We’re gradually getting into the rhythm of life at sea. Somehow the days just evaporate. At the end of the day you realize that all you’ve accomplished is to lie by the pool, see a show, and of
course EAT!! I give my talks every morning at 11:15, and they’re well attended: 50 or 60 people show up regularly.
Toe Job A couple of notes on Bali. One of Nancy’s mahjongg friends has a son who lives and works there. His name is Mike Croft and he designs shoes and clothing which is manufactured for him by local crafts people. The shoes are constructed of recycled burlap rice bags, very loose and comfortable looking. He sells them mainly online to customers in the US and Australia.
His mom asked us to look him up and to bring him a couple of containers of his favorite food, namely
Chef Boyardee Ravioli. We met him and his Russian friend Irina at a sushi bar in Kuta Village, a twenty minute cab ride from Benoa Harbor.
Irina had business to attend to, so after lunch, Mike, Nancy and I took a cab to his place just off Benesari Road, in a neighborhood popular with backpackers, tourists, and sun bleached Aussie surfers who have somehow figured out how to tote a surfboard on the side of a motor cycle. Encircled by a walled compound, Mike’s house
is traditional Balinese, with an outdoor kitchen on the verandah, and a bathroom the size of your Uncle Melvin’s garage.
In the three years he’s lived in Bali, Mike has picked up an impressive amount of Indonesian. He sounds fluent to me, but he tells me he’s only able to understand about 50% of what’s said to him. That afternoon he took us around to Orchid Massage on Benesari Road for a traditional Balinese foot rub. The three of us sat side by side in armchairs while nimble young Bali girls washed and massaged our tired feet, popping each toe with a click of their fingers, and punching our heels to loosen them up.
“I can see why you like it here,” I said.
“It’s my only vice,” he replied happily. “I get a massage or a foot rub at least three or four times a week.”
In case you’re wondering, the “massage with a happy ending” is not an option in Bali, at least according to Mike. In any event, my feet never felt so good, and bottom line, I can’t think of a better way to waste a Sunday than having my feet palpated
by a pretty girl in paradise.
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Cyndy Morreale
non-member comment
I've so enjoyed doing the armchair travel dance with your blogs ... another friend, with a husband with Myelofibrosis is also traveling Australian and Asia, by boat ... they were near Bangcock last week. Have you met up with Bill yet? Wish I were with you but I'm taking care of the pollen attack for you this year. You would die Nancy ... Its the absolute worst ever. I have had Laryngitis for over a week. David Loveland got so bad he had to go to the hospital ER! It snowed yesterday (after being almost 85 the day before) Today will be 58 and tomorrow back in the 70's. Have a great sailing month!!! FYI- Party at Happy Thought Ranch on Memorial Monday which is the 5th month , May 28. All the Clear Creek folks are anxious to do something to honor Sam's life and this may help. He always like kicking off the summer almost more than July 4th. We'll probably plant a tree. I have to invest in sod there and hope like heck its not too mucn. Last Oct. a Landscaper scraped the little pond and got a mountain of sludge which he spread, then seeded, and then covered with mesh/straw. I asked the other day when the mesh would come up and he said it usually biodegrades in 2 - 3 years. Yikes ... I have wedding families there the 1st of June... and that just won't work- so he's giving me a bid on putting sod down. I plan to stay there a bit more in May to water grass :) It will be good to see you by then. I'm going to Sammy and Steves this weekend to dye eggs with Sherry and the boys, yoga with Sammy and Easter dinner. Hope to have my taxes ready for John Lichlyter too!! Thanks for these wonderful blogs !!! and happy belated birthday!!