Did the cab driver rip me off? It's hard to say. Negotiating fares on your first day in a new country is always difficult and the little booth at the airport where you're supposed to pay a set price was empty. I don't really care. The sun is coming up as we drive through the streets thronged with an oddly-restrained form of Asia. Hindu architecture, honking horns, motorbikes, the odd Muslim headscarf. But comparative prosperity. No overt signs of poverty. Dirt but no filth. Not like Bangkok or Cairo or Delhi.
I arrive at the Agung Raka Bungalows just after 7:30am and check in. They let me have my room, for which I'm grateful. I put my bags away and have Nasi Goreng for breakfast in their restaurant. Then I sit on the wooden furniture on my private balcony and feel the stress of the last few weeks writhing around inside me like some parasite. Suddenly, between the stress and the lack of sleep it all just seems to hard. Bartering and a difficult language and culture and currency and I'm so wired I can barely sit down for ten minutes together. So I decide to go for a walk. A long walk.
I buy some water, I book a tour, I remember that in Asia walking is apparently a crime. And then I arrange for the hotel to drop me at the Monkey Forest. And that's when my trip really began.
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