On the last day in Bali, the locals were gearing up for Independence Day, which occurs August 17. The Balinese were kicking off a weeklong festival that would culminate in a parade and an open offer for anyone to climb a greased palm tree (Seriously; I wish I could be there).
The first event was a 15.6 km boat race that conveniently ended about 200m from our hotel. We ambled down to the beach just in time to catch the first boats arriving. They were fun to watch; the crews both paddle and sail at the same time:
The whole scene had the atmosphere of a country fair, albeit with some very Indonesian touches. Instead of cotton candy and candy apples there were boiled quail eggs and raw peanuts:
The heat meant that almost everyone stood in the shade, but the spectacle of the boats landing on the beach was too much to keep the crowd away and it spilled down to the water’s edge. Amazingly, despite the blazing sun that was reducing us Westerners to puddle of water, the Balinese were out in full regalia: jeans, jackets and scooter helmets.
The whole thing was quite fun and safely went off, no doubt because of the representation of at least four different branches of Indonesia’s many-tentacled security apparatus:
