Now we had a grip on the ropes and every day was more exciting. Part of any memorable trip is having good friends with whom to share your escapades. I had chosen well, long-time buddies Pete du Preez, Blasie Franklin, Mark Jarvis and his wife, Bronwyn.

We had to experience Kutia, Legian, Sanur, the tourist centres where East meets and tries to accommodate the West before heading out to where the West is baffled by the intransient ancient East. The real Bali is out there - just beyond the flashing tourist traps. An hour's Beemo ride south around the Bukit Peninsula and you're in the heart of world-class surf spots. Vistas of peeling lines abound from cliff-top vantage points. Take a surf map, bargain for a Beemo and driver, and for 90 000 to 100 000 Rupiah per day, depending of distance and number of passengers, be driven to your desires. It's cheap at 1300 Rupiah to the Rand and you avoid the hassles of getting lost, arguing with corrupt police over traffic fines, and kamikazes en mass!

The swell had jacked to a macho 6 foot plus and nonchalant 8 foot overhead to whatever size I'm gonna soil my rods. We burst our comfortable Kutta soft wave cocoon with Uluwatu "The Peak" elevator drop and screaming "Racetrack" walls. Descending from the south onto the lost Losmen Terrace the full panorama of the sea drama almost froze me with awe. Five surf spots, all grinding and spitting at intervals and degrees of annihilation. My heart, which had risen to my throat, was now pounding in my nostrils. My eyes popped and they were perched on my cheeks and operating in disarray like a lizard's. Fortunately, the fact I normally don't sweat was unknown to the huge gallery of probably just as frightened onlookers. 47 Specs strung out on "The Peak" line-up, 28 at "The Racetrack", 11 on "Outside Corner", 3 a kilometre out at "The Bombie", and no-one at "Temples". What was wrong with "Temples" and some other perfect sections of waves further south? Only a jetski was making use of them. Later, once out on the water, the distance and logistics of these spots strike me.

We settled on the heavy bamboo furniture in front of an empty losmen. The lady/cook of the house collected and stored our valuables in baskets under the large wicker platform that serves as a communal bed. The rule is you stay for nothing but, you buy meals from your host. Not a problem when a large 4-egg omelet is 5000 Rupiah (R3.80). Local hygiene is suspect and ablution non-existent or primitive so be careful what, where and how you eat and drink. Having settled my mutinying stomach with a load I turned to face the sea once more. 47, 28, 11 and 3 - nobody had died yet. A good line-out call. This is no place to show a yellow streak. I joined the line-up via the intimidating exit from the cave pounded by cross swells and backwash. Pete and I settled on some fast walls at "The Racetrack" while Mark stunned the crowd at "The Peak" with late take-offs, deep barrels and precarious aerials. I knew he had balls - but not this big! On every wave there'd be long- and shortboards, boogie- and kneeboards falling out of the lip, sucked over the falls, crushed under tons of hurling lip or churned, chewed and spat from sick pits and barrels with accompanying bodies. It occurred to me that this is the "in place" to be. Regardless of surfing ability, only half the hopefuls surfed Uluwatu, as for the rest, Uluwatu surfed them!

Bronwyn meanwhile, knowing her hero's ability, agility and durability, had gone sight-seeing. Balians are 96% Hindus. Not only are there plenty of temples, but cows and monkeys seem sacred. The latter being as daring and naughty as Irish leprechauns. Bronnie got taken for a ride! A cute blue-gemmed critter bounced onto her shoulder, pinched her Oakleys and kept a safe distance whilst dismembering each piece. Monkeys rights at Uluwatu Temple!

Just north, around the corner, Padang-Padang wasn't on but, "Impossibles" was throwing several hundred metre sections and Bingin was firing. 10 000 Rupiah each and porters were loaded and making their way across fields, streams and down the cliffs to Nyomans Warung and losmen (store and hostel), another splendid vista of stacked lines below the cliffs overlooking "Impossibles". Fishing boats dotted the Bali Straits towards distant Java and G-Land. To the north "Dreamlands", the headland of Balangan, Jimbaran Bay and the long beaches beyond Kuta to Canggu, Balian and Medewi. A cherished moment as I surfed endless hours of winding 4-6 foot walls with only Pete occasionally in shouting distance. We moved on.

More pictures and the rest of the Bali experience soon...... Watch this space!

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   In the Travelogue Series - The Namibian Safari of '98