How NOT to leave Sanur

Fresh off of my waterlogged experience of hunting for lunch, I resolve to actually pay for transportation to get me to the shuttle bus stand to head to Ubud. Especially with all of my stuff, I think this is going to be a good deal. And I'm excited to try out the bemo, an Indonesian quasi-public form of transportation. The vehicle is a uncomfortable and small minivan that has had its rear seats ripped out and replaced with benches along the side. And the door is very small and always open. These cruise up and down the main streets in town, with rides for ~3,000 rupiah. Occasionally, they head on intra-city routes. I flag one down.

"Warung Pojok?" "Yes." "How much?" "10,000 rupiah." "No, 3,000 rupiah" "Ok, 5,000 rupiah." "Ok." (It was pouring!)

I get in and we drive north. Some more tourists flag him down, and he stops and they get in. then, inexplicably, he turns around and starts driving south, away from my destination. Hmmmm. After a while, they pay and get out, and he continues to drive south. We head all the way to the southern end of town (I'm headed to the northern end). We finally hit a roundabout and he turns around and we head back to where we started, hopefully on the way to my destination. Passing a hotel with a handful of tourists exiting, he pulls over and stops. He yells to each of them, individually, "Transport?" No takers. We wait some more, and another batch come, still no takers. At last, he hits the gas and we continue.

Now he wants to sell me a ride to Ubud. "What's the price?" "100,000 rupiah." Yikes, that is not worth it, and he's certainly not my best friend at this point. I demur, time and again, and he goes as low as 80,000 rupiah. Nope, no deal, buddy. We reach the McDonald's in the north of town. "Warung Pojok, over there," he points into a mess of rain and traffic. "Where, I can't see it," I reply. He drives forward another two blocks, there, across the street. It does say Warung Pojok, but it does not look like a shuttle bus stop. Resigned, I get out and pay the man. He drives off, and I consult my map. Sure enough, we're a good five long blocks shy of the Warung Pojok to which I'm headed, which he must have known. Ugh. I strap on my pack, raise my umbrella, and hike through the rain for 20 minutes. Finally.

"Is this the Perama shuttle stop?"

"Yes."

"When's the next shuttle bus to Ubud?"

"1:45pm."

"What time is it now?"

"2pm."

Thank god for island time. To Ubud!