I took advantage of a really beautiful day yesterday to drive up the coast to my old neighborhood of Biaung. Much has changed since I lived there four years ago. It is very much more built up, with many more houses and businesses, and many fewer rice fields, sadly. The black sand beaches, however, have changed hardly at all. They are basically deserted, as they always have been--no businesses, no restaurants, and certainly no hotels. Black sand is not a big tourist draw, I guess, although it is beautiful to see, as the sand shimmers with little silver flecks and is alive, for some reason, with tiny black sand crabs. Moreover, the ocean here is rocky and rough and tugs this way and that against itself, creating dangerous tides. In short, it's not a good place to swim. And even if you did swim, you'd be covered with black sand when you came out, which is not really pleasant either.
Given that there is nothing on this beach, it is a bit strange that the Balinese are charging a fee to park your bike and walk around on the beach. When I entered, the tukang parkir said there was a 1000 Ribu fee. As I gave him a thousand, he changed his mind and said it was two thousand. I gave him the two and his friend then said, 'Give us as much as you can. We need money.' Yeah, me and you both, Dude.
So anyway, I took a walk along the beach, sand crabs skittering ahead of me, and did a little bit of wading, came upon one fisherman, and a guy who was scraping the sand with a bit of cardboard, looking for something. I asked him what he was doing, or what he was looking for, but he apparently could not understand what I was asking, even though I was using Indonesian. It may be that he does not speak Indonesian, but only Balinese.
I also came upon a dead bird of some sort, mostly devoured, and what was either a dead dog or a dead pig--it was hard to tell (photo below for anyone who wants to venture a guess).
Oh, I also came upon a bride and a groom doing a wedding shoot near the surf. Odd.
In those olden days (four entire years ago), I used to drive my motorbike twice a day from our house in the village to the bank where my wife worked in Denpasar. It's a goodly distance, about a 40 minute drive one way, and features some pretty intense traffic. It's hard to believe now that I did that twice a day every day five days a week! Just the one trip yesterday was pretty hard on my shoulder and back. Well, a measure of my deteriorating health and energy, I guess.
Given that there is nothing on this beach, it is a bit strange that the Balinese are charging a fee to park your bike and walk around on the beach. When I entered, the tukang parkir said there was a 1000 Ribu fee. As I gave him a thousand, he changed his mind and said it was two thousand. I gave him the two and his friend then said, 'Give us as much as you can. We need money.' Yeah, me and you both, Dude.
So anyway, I took a walk along the beach, sand crabs skittering ahead of me, and did a little bit of wading, came upon one fisherman, and a guy who was scraping the sand with a bit of cardboard, looking for something. I asked him what he was doing, or what he was looking for, but he apparently could not understand what I was asking, even though I was using Indonesian. It may be that he does not speak Indonesian, but only Balinese.
I also came upon a dead bird of some sort, mostly devoured, and what was either a dead dog or a dead pig--it was hard to tell (photo below for anyone who wants to venture a guess).
Oh, I also came upon a bride and a groom doing a wedding shoot near the surf. Odd.
In those olden days (four entire years ago), I used to drive my motorbike twice a day from our house in the village to the bank where my wife worked in Denpasar. It's a goodly distance, about a 40 minute drive one way, and features some pretty intense traffic. It's hard to believe now that I did that twice a day every day five days a week! Just the one trip yesterday was pretty hard on my shoulder and back. Well, a measure of my deteriorating health and energy, I guess.
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