Thirty Hours Later… Bali, Indonesia

So much has happened since the last time I wrote a personal post that I’m struggling even putting words to paper (and yes, it’s been old school style for this blog post’s preparation). I’m sitting in a coffee shop across from my old DC yoga studio sipping on some tea waiting for class to begin.

But let’s rewind.

14138709_10154024763297815_6213053517078239436_oAlmost four weeks ago, I arrived at Dulles airport (IAD) ready to spend three weeks of my life in southeast Asia without any expectations about what would happen or how I would react to visiting a new region of the world. Thirty hours later, mixed with a concoction of movies and book overload, we arrived perhaps worse for wear but beyond prepared for Indonesia.

14195339_10154024765667815_941621728244919763_oFour days in Denpasar, ten in Ubud, four in Seminyak and another five in Gili Trawangan… Those are the numbers. Three weeks spent 22 books, refinding friendships and rediscovering a deep love of theoretical math and physics. Expected outcome of the trip? Not really. Discounting Bali as adventure-less would, however, be a mistake. Where else could I have scaled a 60 foot waterfall, cooked local Indonesian food and wandered around sidewalk-less streets until my feet bled?

14138079_10154024767527815_4270984617262771461_oBeyond adventures though, some of my most vivid memories are of sitting around a table with close friends laughing and just enjoying each other’s company. Bar Alzheimers, I plan on scrapbooking these seconds for the long haul. There are other moments. I promise I didn’t invest three weeks of my life just to do things I could happily do at home. I befriended monkeys, meditated (or rather: failed at remaining stoic), jumped off a 17 foot rock and opened my eyes to the potential virtues of of beaching (Limit 1 Hour Per Day).

14231229_10207222478101213_7716402230061276728_oYou’ll see over the next couple months the vast amount of books I’ve read, but if I had to pick a favorite: I know what it would be without question: Uranium Wars by Amir Aczel. Just like if I had to pick something I won’t ever forget, it will be that moment of panic mid-air as I plummeted towards the water sure that I would die. Trips like these always somehow fracture, break into crystal-clear moments where the in-between parts fade into the haze of sleepy car rides and early morning coffee runs. Will I remember all of the different breakfasts, late night Tim-Tam runs and potential sun-death from lazing too long? Probably not, but that’s not to say I regret any second of it. We grow from our travels and become different people, regardless of what we happily or not-so-happily experience.

14066230_10154024776572815_6368141289376592509_oI don’t know if going to Bali for three weeks has altered the course of my life. That would be a *wee* bit dramatic… but it’s certainly changed parts of me, made it so that a part of my life will be intertwined with the life of three others in these couple seconds of stubbornly remaining memories. I’ve split my Bali photography into a series of three posts and added some Indonesian recipes to the blog in the upcoming posts – until next weekend.

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