After a few days of scouting out the local traffic rules, we decided it was time to rent a bike and go check some stuff out. So, Jeff signed up, breezing through the fine print in the rental contract. No problem. There are western people driving all over the place. I'm sure you can guess where this is headed....
We checked out some of the local crafts. The wood and stone carving in particular are pretty amazing. We headed up to Gulung Batar, which is Bali's second highest mountain and an active (only a tiny bit of steam at the moment) volcano. There is a beautiful lake that sits within the caldera of the bigger, original volcano. Only problem with this is that heaps of tourists head up here and the police know it. Sure enough, we were putting along on our little scooter, minding our own business and there it was... a road block set up by two cops. Every single one of the locals just cruised on through without stopping but us whiteys were pulled over and given the treatment. It went something like this: “You were driving very fast. Show me registration? Show me Indonesian licence? No Indonesian licence? Oh this bad. Show me international driver's license? No? Oh this very, very bad.” Long story short, the grilling we received was well rehearsed (“I want no trouble for you...but I have a job to do.”) and the intricate verbal dance of corrupt cop vs us trying to pay the smallest fine possible ensued. According to the man, the penalty for not having either licence was a fine, impoundment of the vehicle, a court appearance (miles from where we are staying of course), etc etc. Conveniently, the cop understood our predicament (“I am so glad you visit my country!”) and offered to give us “special help” by allowing us to pay an “on the spot fine” of 200,000 rupiah. Jeff somehow talked him down to 150,000 (about $16 US) and just as I started handing him the cash, a local drove up. The cop abruptly waved me away away until the local passed so that he wouldn't be seen taking the bribe...err fine. Nice.
The volcano and lake were worth the fine and Jeff met some new “friends” on the dock.
What I couldn't quite capture is the million of others hawkers who are trying to get your cash; everyone here seems to have an angle and everyone has a “friend” who can get you whatever you need. For a price. The constant hassle, combined with the heat, is mentally tiring. We had one guy try to charge us for parking as we were pulling away from a public car park (I'm getting smarter and told him no way jose) and another lady who laid her batiks on the bike to stop us from leaving. They don't mean any harm, just can be very aggressive.
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