“Frankly, I’m not that impressed,” I say, waddling over the prickly roc
Bluer than the sky, bluer than the ocean, bluer than the namesake tropical cocktail.
Legs are paler, pants are wider, beards are longer.
Everything that could go wrong on our trip to the Jatiluwih rice terraces did go wrong.
I’ve been bitten by mosquitos, flies, and bugs.
We went back in time, and this is Bali before it became Bali.
It almost feels like California, with faded graffiti on crumbling walls and tanned surfers flaun
I can’t believe it.
If I was wearing flip flops, I’d be dead by now.