Yeah, that’s right, you heard me… Ascoutic.
I was staggering around the back lanes of Ubud, which is incredibly touristy and over developed (there is a Starbucks), yet still somehow retains its charm and magical loveliness.
Impressively turbaned Tuans were hanging on their scooters checking themselves out in their rear view mirrors.
Yeah, Hi, there he is.
But enough of waving at the tourists, let’s get back to the oily matter at hand. Zit poppin’.
So on I reeled, past the walls of incredible kites and racks of extraordinary sarongs, down a little lane where I came across these likely lads.
“Is there any music happening ?” I asked them.
“You like reggae ?” They replied.
”No”, said I. Honestly, if I hear Red Red Wine or I Shot The Sheriff one more time then I can’t be held responsible for my actions.
”Ah” they said, “then you must like ascoutic music ?”
I was impressed, “Ascoutic ?” I said. “Quite Possibly” I said, “ Perhaps even probably”.
My head still reeling from the tropical heat and giddying reversal of consonants I came across this prophesy in marigolds.
I hope it doesn’t come too soon. I’m not quite finished with the old one yet.
The Dislocated Hippies 
You should know by now that only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
Stay in the shade during the day! And keep entertaining us with misspellings and reversals.
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You crazy West Coasters from Calif-orni-o-i-a. Never less than a pleasure to hear from you.
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