Three weeks later, I found myself having been eaten up by the magical mouth of the Ubud dragoness. Lore states She has been known to swallow people whole, especially travel worn Westerners and those looking for a new spirit domain. I met some of these victims. Tattered and torn in just the right places, they start to blend in with the volcanicy/jungled landscape. Sporting pieces of angled fabrics in yogic colors and third eyes studded with bone carvings, they speak in crystal tongues of esoteric origin of mandalas, ecstatic dance, and how important living off of air is. Fortunately, I was spit out with little wear and tear, my tongue and third eye intact, and my stomach full of organic salads and gado gado. But, I soon found I had a much heavier bag from the dragon's blessing's and offerings. Sri Ubud Dragon stopped my timepiece...I had spent my Bali time in, more or less, one place. To all of you Bali venturers...BEWARE! In the end, Sri Ubud Dragoness left me with plenty of Bali to come back for, and perhaps this was her intention :)
My escape involved a few accomplices from the “feather leather crew”, a getaway jeep cherokee, 4 hours of pseudosleep, and the feeling that if we waited much longer, Sri Ubud Dragoness would slice her tail through the misty air from on high, hooking us back into her cove. The escape was narrow-sweat beeding from our cheekbones-I felt exhilaration creeping from below. Our rendevoux point was just in front of the Padangbai Pier, where Laksmi blessed us with “fast boat” tickets to the Gili Islands off the coast of Lombok for an actually fair price.
Hard to leave the wonderland of Bali, yet harder to even imagine what was in store.
Our boat first arrived upon the white coral beach of Gili Air. Having booked to the "Party Island", we jumped ship. Enticed by the turquoise clear waters licking our feet, we journeyed to a restaurant rumored to be the “best in town”. (In this town of 60.) While sipping a mind-blowing coconut shake that refreshed the esophagus in such a way, it's coolness radiated to my toes from the inside, I was affirmed. In strolls a friend I had met in India on the way to Arambol beach four years ago! What a trip! Having just purchased land on Gili Air, he is starting a yoga space. Future potentials abound!
The waters called me into its semi-clear depths to witness an amazing ancient creature lurking just below. A solid, flying, round mass just beyond full clarity glided across my goggle-eyed panoramic view. What on earth? What in the the sea could it be??? I kicked a lil further. Stopped breathing. And stared. Just below me, not 3 meters away, was a survivor for the books. I had discovered my first sea turtle! Not bad for the 3rd time snorkeling!
My five days here were consumed with the otherwordly experience the warm, turqouise waters Gili Air and Gili Meno had to offer. With sunrises illuminating Lombok's Mount Rinjani on the horizon, and flying barecuda in the distance, I dipped into bliss every moment I could. My rewards were plentiful. I found myself surrounded by schools of little fish, glistening with each minisquel flip of their tail. Electric blue starfish were splattered on the rocks below. Unicorn fish with large horns protruding from their third eyes, bodies larger than my torso stared back at me. Hundreds of white snapper encompassed me at one point- a fisherman's dream. Perhaps wondering what this newly human-shaped white snapper would do next (my tan hadn't quite set in). I unintentionally voyeured a pair of mating sea snakes--some of the most poisonous, of course. And was blessed with the largest sea turtle ever. The granmama. Spotted fins and a head bigger than my own, she paraded the sea floor for grasses and bobbed to the surface for air. The last morning, I was greeted by schools of bity squid, and strange blue luminescent orbs, that would disappear as they brushed my hand. All of this to the neverending chorus of the coral nibbles of the parrot fish.
Parting by boat, my new crew reported that Gili Air is actually-"Gili Magic". Gili Meno--"Gili Animal". How right they were.
Having snorkeled my fingertips to prunes, I found my way back to the mainland for my grand Bali finale. Somehow, I managed to circumnavigate the ultra touristic, druggish/clubbish haven and dirty beaches of Kuta. Instead, I transported to within three kilometers of the famous monkey cliff temple of Uluwatu, and surprise! Surfers everywhere! Hidden cliff beaches lining the rocky shoreline, and surfers moto-scooting the back ways looking for their next break; I had NO idea this area was a such a mecca. What a relief to have found this magic place, especially since I was expecting something more resembling Mazatlan or Cancun. The easy, breezy attitudes of the people I met here was one of the best send offs from Bali. I could have definitely chilled here for quite some time. 
I had been saving my Kechek experience for this temple. Kechek, an ancient form of dance and music, was originally “invented” by Balinese villagers to to purge a person or a community from illness. The mouths of a hundred men shape the complex timed rhythms of a Balinese orchesttra, as human versioned sounds of gamelan, gong, bamboo xylophone, flute, and drums sung off of another man's spoken metronome. Finding it difficult to actually ascertain which man was speaking which part, one is enveloped in the fullness of it's totality. Shoulders start to bounce uninhibitadly, and hands quiver spirit fingers (from my cheerleading days). They were all bare chested, with the traditional Balinese checkered super “invisible” cloak wrapped around their waistlines in effort to hide themselves from the evil spirits they were trying to purge. Dancers of the Ramayana Ballet came forth, and danced their story (the same story now told to me 4 times, but equally as intriguing) among the formations of the Kechek artists. 
I have been spending a majority of my time cruising up the roads surrounding Ubud to find the actual craftsmen artistrating their works on the barren concrete floors with dentist tools and wire. In doing so, one escapes the rather touristed center of Ubud, complete with its thrice upmarked prices for the same goods. Passing through everyday Balinese life brings snapshots of women with some of the many daily offerings she makes for the community, and women working in the fields. And then there are the men, chillaxin at the local warungs. Hmmmm... :) 
months walking up and down the miles of street, lined with one carver after another and their accompanying wares. There were times when I found something I really liked that I was unable to find somewhere else. However, these were often unsalable samples, intended on encouraging one to commission hundreds of identical pieces for crazy bargain prices for exportation. And, finding the store again could take another week. Also, with only my necessities in life strapped to my back, I am constantly taking into account the weight of each and every item added. How can I shop? 
