Bali, Indonesia‘s most popular island, is divided into two camps. Into those, who do yoga in Ubud and visit one or another temple and into the sporty ones. They like to kick the ball at the beach or surf.
I am none of them. I have never tried yoga nor surfing, but I am still drawn to beach.
I love when waves get bigger and bigger and crash at the shore. How it knocks me off the feet and how I have to dive under the wave. The sound of shattering water, the cheering children, when one of them managed to jump over the wave. And again, the diving.
Life at the Beach
Of course, Kuta Beach is not only waves and surfers. There is enough space for kiting at the esplanade or for working on boats.
Australian tourists lay across the beach and mark their territories with empty bottles of beer.
Locals use flip flops, stick them in the sand, call it a goal and play football. Almost genius.
Everyone else enjoys the colourful turmoil and buys too expensive knick-knacks from the stands. Towels, bracelets, some of them get their hair braided or get a cheap henna tattoo, like I did by the way.
The beach is in the southern part of Bali and is a tourism magnet. Everything is more beautiful, even the sunsets. I do not know how they manage to influence the sun, but they do.
In the evening the sea pulls back and leaves a gauzy coat of water. With the sun in the back it appears as the beach would be a giant mirror, where children chase their reflections.
Watching the Sunset
One evening I sat at Ocean 27, a beach bar. Slurping, as usual, a mojito, when the sky decided to do a little magic and changed the scenery in a purply-orange. Everyone was in awe, I mean literally. People quickly got to their cameras and took dozens of pictures. Me too, how could I resist?