Banyuwangi, unlike Krakatoa, actually East of Java….well…..Far eastern Java anyway.
Let’s see, our last sight of Java was Ronnie, the Sunglasses King. Nice guy.
The Customs Guy gave us a cheery thumbs up, though arguably technically not. More a fist really. Yes. Let’s face it. He was giving us the fist.
I looked deeply into his eyes to see if I could discern his real intent. No way. God but they train their officials beautifully. He was like a machine. Implacable…if that’s the word I want. Well, it’s a word anyway so given the heights of literary quality this blog aspires to it’ll more than do.
See, no reaction whatsoever, a 1,000 yard stare, a Giaconda smile, a sideways glance, this guy was on fire, but only on the inside.
There were plenty of characters on board, some inscrutable, others not so much, some financially or ethically challenged, others just dentally so.
A painted ship on a painted sea, well, with a little bit of colour added anyway. That’s Java on the right and Bali opposite.
This is the Dude who was actually driving this Charabanc. He looked to be WAY too happy to me and was talking excitedly to his crew all the while. I think he may have been saying “ Who the heck is driving this caboose ? Oh, that’s right, I am” ! Cue maniacal laughter.
Meantime the actual Captain was standing outside quite near the lifeboat. When he wasn’t nervously gripping the rail he was keeping a hand on the bell chain, seemingly prepared at any instant to give the command “Abandon Ship” !
But phew, no need to pop on the frock and rush to the head of the lifeboat queue, Here we are !
Not Bali Hi but Bali Ho, as we old salts say, possibly slightly rudely.
So onto the sacred isle where those little bits of paper you see sticking out from under the visor are secret sacred offerings, delivered back of hand, folded up in tickets and transferred in handshakes to a series of Policemens. Welcome to Bali.