Lovina

Finally we drove to out hotel - with a swimming pool and real people! Wow! We were back in civilisation again.

That night at dinner, Chloe and I decided to check out the local bars. There wasn't a great deal of choice (namely two bars next door to each other) but we headed for what seemed like the best option, containing only four people with whom we sat. The drinks were very, very expensive. There was a live cover band playing, who I actually thought were very good. They reminded me of the Philippino bands in Hong Kong, though these guys got a great deal more of the words wrong. The other Europeans we were sitting with left, leaving just the bar staff, Tim from East Timor and a guy sitting on his own - so I invited him over. Turns out (and I believe this story as it wasn't the person in question who told me, and the concept seemed to fit him very well) he was a Dutch lottery winner, trying to immigrate to Bali. Anyways he paid some of the boys at the bar to drive us to the nearby "Volcano Club" and paid for ALL our entries.

So we rode to the club - me, Chloe, the Dutch lottery winner, Tim from East Timor, the bar manager and the band. Chloe and I went on the same bike, for safety reasons, but we were so weighed down that we couldn't go as fast as the other bikes, so failed miserably in the attempt to race. It wasn't half as scary - being on a motorbike - as I thought, but actually really fun, and made more so by Chloe making shadow puppets in the headlamp!

The club was in the shape of a volcano, with a rotating dancefloor. It was all black inside with swirling, glowing patterns on the walls and ceilings - like the inside of a volcano. Here we met a guy from Jakarta and an O'Neill sponsored surfer from the Gilly(sp?) Islands, and all proceeded to the dancefloor to partake in some of the most stupid dancing I have ever done, including salsa, ballroom, and a local dance called "the Joggette". We also drank some of the local spirit, Arak. At first I thought this was actually ok, but later that night Chloe was sick, Tim from East Timor passed out! And the following day I felt like I was going to die.

At the end of the night, the guys discussed who would get to take us back to our hotel, while Chloe and I discussed whether we would be safer getting in a car with a drunk driver, or on a bike with a drunk driver. There was no other option to get home. Our logic was that we would be less likely to die in a car because they are bigger.