Case Of The Kidnapped
agent I consulted on my first trip to Bali could give me little
information. (You can see it all in three days.)
two points she did stress: It was hot, and there were few shops
as we knew them, except down on the beacles, and these were over-run
I began,to picture Bali as a kind of Simpson's Desert, ringed with
a fringe of hippies.
Oddly enough, I did not make a booking through her
There are shops galore in Bali, but not all selling is done indoors.
The meat, for instance, arrives in the saddle-bag (box, rather)
of a motorbike, and a lively bit of bargaining is conducted in the
courtyard, under the critical eye of the resident monkey, before
the day's quota of pork flesh is handed over. Then, of course, there
are the warungs (roadside stalls) usually nothing more than a table,
piled high with a variety of cakes, fruit and cordial, plus a bench
where customers can sit, all carried to and from the desired spot,
incredibly balanced on the head of the dainty little vendor.
more mobile are the artists and craftsmen who pack a sample of their
art in a canvas bag and wait patiently outside likely hotels or
temples, trying to catch the eye of arriving or departing guests.
a one was the woodcarver who twice-weekly parked his motorbike in
front of our hotel. Then, his carvings spread enticingly around
him, puffing peacefully at a clove-scented cigarette, he patiently
day came when 1, not so patiently, waited beside him, for a bemo.
Fifteen minutes crept by, but that was all that passed. No