Kuta Beach

I approached these last few days in Bali with some apprehension and a great big dose of get over it.  I voluntarily put myself in the position of being in the urban fray of Bali. I'm staying where all the people are, and I can manage.

As I told Anita, it makes a big difference knowing how to get around and knowing a few places to go to eat. I also have a slightly better understanding of where things are.

So today I set out on foot to find a restaurant on the beach for dinner. I have the maps.me app on the iPad, and I decided to either go to the Hard Rock Cafe or the restaurant where we had dinner on Anita's last night here. The Hard Rock Cafe was about 45 minutes from the hotel, according to the time estimate on Google maps.

Perfectly doable. And I'm happy to report the walk was pleasant. Only twice did I sneer that it's wrong to park your motorbike on the sidewalk -- didn't the drivers understand that pedestrians take precedence.

Although it was 20 minutes before I hit the beach, the city roads were pleasant. They were mostly lined with shops and restaurants for locals. Hotels were modest and not Westerners’ extravaganzas. By the time I got to those super hotels, I no longer saw them as a blight.

Maybe it helped that I wasn't part of the vehicular traffic, and didn't notice the motorbikes inching their way into every cubic centimetre of space. Or maybe there was just less traffic and therefore less sense of urgency.

This time, I saw the beach as a lovely place, full of people relaxing and enjoying the surf. There were certainly a lot of people with boards, and breaking waves for them to try to catch.

It was so pleasant that I walked the extra 15 minutes to the Seaside Restaurant that I visited with Anita.

The Hard Rock Cafe is one of those places that I think I'm supposed to like, but don't actually enjoy. I consider eating there because it's safe.  It's where I chose to eat when I landed in New Orleans, just after I learned the first Gulf War had started (bombing had not begun when I took off from Dallas, but had commenced when I landed in New Orleans).  I picked it because I knew the menu and surroundings would be familiar when the situation was surreal. The rock music was off that day, and dozens of tv screens were tuned to the news.

So here in Bali, I set out to maybe eat at the Hard Rock Cafe. It was a tangible possible destination.

At that point, the road followed the beach, with a decorative concrete fence separating the beach from the road, and hotels, restaurants and shops filling the other side of the road.

I waked on the beach for a while, and decided that I should be paying attention to restaurants. Once I had ordered, I could admire the beach.

Kuta Beach is actually quite narrow. There's a shelf about 30 feet wide, then a slope that's about another 30 feet wide the goes down about 10 feet in elevation, then another shelf with breaking waves. On the top shelf, there are lots of vendors with beach umbrellas, chairs for rent and cold beverages. Beer, coke, water, etc. It melts into Legian Beach and others up the coast.

On the walk, I picked out other restaurants that I can try. My primary criteria were that it had to be high enough to see over the since, and it had to have non-dairy Western food on the menu. It's going to be a few weeks before I have rice again.

I think this was the first time I've enjoyed being in this part of Bali. Clearly, the attitude adjustment made a difference.