Beer and Bubbles

So sitting around in coffee shops and eavesdropping on expats has finally paid off. And it is evident, that making friends while in Bali is your ticket to experiencing it at its fullest. I was getting a little bored around here to be honest. The hours seemed long when I had no conversation but the ones with myself and sitting on the beach with a case of the glares - staring through the sea and not at it, thinking my minutes away.

Yesterday morning started off the same. This time I actually parked myself on a sun lounger (although not to lounge in the sun but to read in the shade) and watched the water kiss the sand then run away, again and again. After about three hours of this sitting and reading and staring and thinking - I decided that I'd have a cappuccino, that would break the day up a bit.

So I headed off to my now 'local' called Stiff Chilli (insert euphemism for.../innuendo/joke). I people watched for a bit as I sipped my coffee. I then got chatting to a guy named Loïc, at the next table. He's from France and living in Bali, working as a travel agent. His English is good enough to hold a substantial amount of conversation and we laugh at each other's jokes - no translations needed, that's good enough for me.

The chat steered in the direction of music (one of my favourite topics) and turns out he's a guitarist too and told me about an event happening later that night in Denpasar which a lot of his friends were involved in. If I loved live music and didn't know anyone in Bali then I must come along, he told me. He keyed the address into my phone, took his takeaway pizza and beer and headed back to work (nice work if you can get it, eh?).

And I did go. And I'm so glad I did because it was so much fun! It was a sort of hut/bar but essentially an outdoor event. The place was packed with fans of the performers and fellow travelers who had managed to get wind of this party. I met Loïc's friends (half the venue) who were mostly European and also working and living in Bali. All lovely, welcoming people.

There was a jazz/blues band, an acoustic band, a poet reciting her work to folk music, bellydancers, firedancers, rappers, rock bands and an Indonesian acapella performance.

We drank and danced and drank and danced...a hash of ballroom dances and funk moves depending on what went with what. There was a bubble machine and we all tried to catch them on our tongues like giddy children. By my fourth or fifth San Miguel, I was sufficiently tipsy.

Somehow I ended up with cake in my hair, I hadn't even been eating any. But it was pink and smelt like sugar, eggs and flour. Yep. Definitely cake, a nice extra touch to the cocktail of beer and sweat that I also had tangled up in there.

This morning I woke up with sticky hair, a delicate head and a couple of smiles in memory to a bloody good night.