Roosters crowing at 5:11 a.m. I walk onto the veranda of the hotel and look out on Cendrawasih Bay. There are so many stars up above, I can see the islands silhouetted by the Milky Way. To the east dark as well. Sunrise not for another hour and a half. I have a slight hangover from a boisterous Saturday night drinking with two Japanese sailors and Larry Smith. Our conversation mindless. We shared it a thirst for beer and I wandered to the hotel safe and sound. Stripped off my clothes in the hotel room, turned on the fan, got underneath the mosquito netting and fell into bed with 10 toes pointing to heaven.
I hadn't shut the mosquito netting too good. I have bites all over my body. I turn on the BBC World Radio. The world is at war, as the coalition gets ready to invade Iraq. George W Bush is pissed off about Saddam trying to assassinate his father. The ex cokehead wants to prove he's a man. I wish you could do it another way maybe another time.
I change to the France International. They're playing music. Serge Gainsborough in fact. Wars mosquitoes, Biak, Serge rules over them all.
I could easily catch a plane to Bali today, but Larry Smith has returned from java. His new crankshaft for his boat is coming by ship. He suggested we cross the island to a beach on the north shore with his Indonesian girlfriend. She doesn't speak much English. She smiles a lot. I know that trick from having lived in Paris without any French for the first three months. Larry says there are waves there and he has two boogie boards. I'm in no hurry to circumnavigate the globe. I don't have to be back in America, until my money runs out sometime in May or June. Traveling Indonesia is not expensive. Especially since I'm traveling alone. Knowing no one is waiting for me back home or any place where I'm going I'm more ghost of passing interest, although if I was with a woman i wouldn't be able to turn left or right or just stay in place. I'd have to think of somewhere to go some place to be something to do. Come to think of it, I'll make that trade off in a second, but the only women I love are the ones in the past or too far gone from my caresses, so it's me on my own traveling around the world.
Enough moaning self-pity doesn't get you anywhere. You're trying to be a writer. Or am I?
Rick and Caroline were a cute couple in Hawaii. John and I met them at the airport in Honolulu. I thought about going to Kauai with them, but was more enthralled with going further east into the Orient, so I can write. I have to start rewriting North North Hollywood soon. Once I get to Ubud the cultural center of Bali. No beach scene in that town. Plenty of surf south of there in Kuta Beach, Ulu Watu, and Sanur according to the Rough Guide. I love distractions from writing. My mind is clear of everything, except the drink. Thankfully there's no drugs out here.
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