A few nights in a cheapish penginapan in Sanur, a few nice meals with a Dutch couple I'd met, in a few nice restaurants, one of which had a performance by dance students from the local arts school, then I headed off on a round trip of Bali.

In Candi Dasa I made some good friends (and in Bug-bug, over the hill and around the bend. . .).   Since then I have always stayed at Homestay Taruna (just south-west of Candi Dasa, on the "beach") for a week when I arrive in Bali, and another week before I leave.   Now they tell me there's even a telephone in the shop out the front!

The music of the frogs and insects at Tirtagangga showed me where some of the rhythms in gamelan music come from.   A Titiek Sandhora cassette played in the restaurant and I was in heaven.   The Water Palace here is beautiful.

Next stop Lovina -- Anturan, actually.   What a wonderfully laid-back place.   I seemed to be making friends everywhere.   Who cares if there's no hot water!   The food was delicious, the room cheap and the experiences satisfying and memorable.

The bus on the last leg to Gilimanuk was so old I could feel the floor moving every time we hit a bump in the road!

Java.   It was August 18 in Banyuwangi and the gerak jalan contest was still in full swing.   I didn't know why it was happening (now I know about Independence Day - Hari Kemerdekaan -- which is celebrated on August 17th each year), but this impressive display of marching was just a little bit scary (we Australians have all been told the old paranoid stories about the "yellow peril" that will invade us from the north.   :-)

My first bus ride in Java (from Surabaya to Solo) scared me more than anything!   I lost count of the number of times the tyres screeched as we slowed or stopped to avoid oncoming buses, trucks, bicycles;  or to pick up passengers who fitted in. . . somewhere.

I could have stayed longer in Solo but culture shock was starting to hit me, so after three days I went on to Yogya and found a more foreigner-friendly environment.   I met Vero at the Keraton on the second day, and in between her English classes she showed me around Yogya and the surrounding area during the next two weeks.

When I went one night to her family's home in Klaten, I saw fireflies (kunang-kunang) for the first time.   Their gentle little lights were floating over the sawah (wet rice fields) as we travelled along the unlit track in the becak. There was always plenty to do and see:   the well known Buddhist giant stupa of Borobudur,   Dieng Plateau, Krakal Beach, the various features of Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta.   But the magic of Candi Prambanan is imprinted on my soul.   What is it about that place?   Every time I return it has become more and more complete, more and more beautiful, and powerful in its attraction.

The last few days back in Bali were so strange.   Indonesia was growing inside me and it took weeks to get back into living and working in Australia.   I think this is when I decided I'd one day work in Indonesia, maybe teaching English.

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