Bingin beginnings...

It took me a moment to catch my breath when arrived in Bingin beach primarily because of the 20 kilos of luggage which I had just jostled down the stairs to the beach then secondly because of the view, it was certainly worth the climb. We were warned about the steps by a whole breed of travellers on trip advisor who have this tiresome ability to moan about absolutely everything and anything... It really wasn't as death defying as half of them made out. I'm assuming all these complaints come from people who, like me, have an overwhelming amount of shit with them which could cause a bag rupture at any moment with bits flying everywhere... for me this would include a KILO of jewellery that I don't even wear at home, some drugs that have been in my medicine cabinet for a good couple of years (are they even still in date?) you know just in case and last but not least an inflatable rubber ring?!

In the true spontaneous spirit that I like to think I have, I did a reccy of the beach in search of somewhere to stay. The place we chose was lovely and even had its own balcony looking out to sea. The other places I saw were not so easy on the eye, one place stood out in particular as the bed had not yet been made and it occurred to me on site of the mattress that as many people who had sweated on that bed may also have pissed on it... 

Zena and I settled ourselves in a bar and ordered fresh fruit shakes from a waiter wearing a t-shirt saying "get loose and have a juice". It was all very romantically suggestive (well in my mind) that afternoon, what with the passion fruit in my drink, the beautiful beach and half naked surfers strolling in and out of the bar but fortunately this was all settled when I picked up a book called "Dealbreakers", it was all about problem relationships and how they can ruin your life so any longing for romance was removed for the time being.

After avoiding a lady named Reggae who worked at the guest house for a couple of hours because we simply didn't have any money to purchase the massage, bracelets and sarongs she was offering we headed onto the beach with an appetite for food and companions. Waving goodbye to Reggae who was still trying to convince us that her fish was superior to her neighbours we stopped a few bungalows down where there were more than zero human beings like at our "home" for the week. We took our seats, two red childlike plastic perches that were sunken into the sand leaving us on a more than slight slope. I ordered a Bintang and we selected our own dinner that was so fresh it looked as though it could have jumped from the ocean right onto the BBQ. The food was finger lickingly delicious, quite literally as I in particular made quite a mess peeling the prawns. The meal was made up of red snapper, whole prawns, water spinach ,marinated in chilli and garlic, rice and some spicy sauces that I don't have the ability to describe as anything other than "Asian". It was obvious before I even set my beady greedy eyes on the fish that I would be quite happy eating dinner like this for the rest of my life, instead I settled on tucking into this simple but heavenly meal another four times in the days that followed. 

In between bites we chatted to some Spanish guys and agreed to join them to go out in Uluwatu as they had a car, well not just any car a Jeep that was far too small for five people but handled better than a car on the winding jarring roads of Bingin. When we climbed into the car and I was bunched up next to a 60 year old man who kept putting his arm round my shoulder and almost tickling my neck I did think to myself "what the fuck are we doing?" but continued on the road blocking out images in my overactive imagination of these very nice strangers throwing my body into the heavily wooded area that we were surrounded by. Despite all this we had fun and the nutty Spanish surf instructor from the group kept us entertained with his bad English and dancing. 

On our way back to the top of the hill they abruptly screeched the car to a halt claiming that this is the only area they could pick up wifi, they proceeded to check  all their social networks then carried on along the road, this I realised is what crazy lengths people go to when they can't check their Facebook for a few days... I was a little annoyed I didn't have my phone as I would have been more than happy to get my internet fix and at least inhale a few likes, though I tried to convince myself life without it was free and uninterupted deep down I knew my habit was probably worse than theirs. 

We were dropped off at the top of that hill and continued to walk/ fall in the pitch black darkness whilst dodging frogs, leeches and spiders. We have a ten minute video of this treacherous early hours trek down the hill which consists of mostly darkness a few screams and a huge amount of nervous drunken laughter... thankfully we had the light from filming otherwise it would have more than likely resulted in me breaking a bone or two. 

I woke up after some exceptionally fucked up dreams to the sea breeze blowing in from the balcony and the sun shining in my eyes, nothing not even the crazed murderer from my dreams could have ruined that moment. I had my usual morning coffee and tobacco intake and tried to frame just how perfect the moment and my surroundings were... I can safely say its lodged in my brain for a time when I'm back in the coldness and reality of England. 

My entire time in Bingin was blissfully happy and we spent our days bathing and walking to the other beaches or rock climbing without shoes in the case of Dreamland beach. The spainards headed there to surf so we joined them, as we arrived it was clear it that the beach certainly was a "dreamland" for Asian tourists most of whom were sporting luminous vests, googles or speedos... quite the view! On one of our daily walks we headed to an equally as dreamy Asian tourist beach with a similar view but this time "many many" of them were all dressed up in pink "on tour" T-shirts, I was pleased to see its not only the Brits who vacate to Malia or Zante each year who think they are looking the part. On our way back we spotted some beautiful bungalows with a pool that happened to be less than half the price of our original beach bode so we decided to move and that is where the fun really began...