First-Order Experiences

The Russian and I rode up north to Amed Beach on Friday afternoon for a weekend of snorkeling and extreme loafing. We produced exactly nothing of value for most of three days. It was fabulous!

We stayed in a lovely (and ridiculously inexpensive) little hotel called Tradisi Beach Front Villas. They aren’t lying… there’s just enough room between the pool and the beach for a row of lounge chairs and a low sea wall. The pebble beach is about 20 feet wide, the surf is knee-high on a heavy day, and the reef starts about 20 feet beyond that. Just grab some gear from the rack behind the kitchen and you’re ready to bother a sea turtle… the gear is beat to hell, but if you have any business being there you won’t care. 🤣

The fanciest restaurant in town is Blue Earth Village, about a 5-min ride up the point. If the photo on their home page looks oddly similar to the one above, it should: they were taken from exactly the same table! Which is where our story begins…

Take my picture!

This is the mating call of the female Russian Millennial. It echoed off the rafters as we ascended the stairs to the Blue Earth observation deck Friday night. My own Russian made for the one empty spot at the rail and chimed in, hip-checking a Ukranian woman into submission as sunset fast approached.

I unlocked my phone and went to work.

Eventually the wait staff took pity and served drinks, which brought the Russian Instagrammers back to their tables. Ours was right at the rail, so I took advantage and managed to snap the image above before the light faded and that was that.

Afterward, as I reflected on the beauty of the Balinese sunset, I realized… I never saw it. I was so focused on recording the damned thing, I missed the entire experience!

So I made a command decision. I get about one of those a month. “Tomorrow night,” I said, “we’re coming back here, and we’re leaving our  redacted  phones at the  redacted  hotel.”

And you know what? We did. And we did. And it was  redacted  spectacular.

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