— it’s been a blast, but it’s time for a cool change. The energy in that compact village was starting to mess with my head. Without a home base, nothing familiar to ground myself, I fed off my surroundings until I needed out. Time to chillax.. Sanur is my reset button.
Sanur travel story by Lary Kennedy, Living Like I’m Dying
I spent most of my life in Los Angeles with easy access to Venice, Santa Monica, and Malibu beaches, yet I never felt the pull to live beachside. Way too expensive, constant traffic, sand in all my cracks — I kept myself inland. Well, I was born in the sign of water and that’s where I feel my best. The albatross and the whales — they are my brothers.
I try not to put much weight on the signs and symbols tied to the moment I entered humanity. Born in July, I’m a Cancer — a crab — and my Chinese horoscope says I’m a rat. A freaking rat. Cancer, crab, and rat. FFS.
I’m hoping Sanur’s humidity — or maybe the public water — will do something nice for my hair. With nothing but hard water blasting out of Asia’s shower spouts, my tresses usually come out looking like one big rat’s nest.
Walking along Sanur’s beach boardwalk, breeze pushing through my brittle hair, I started rethinking this whole living-by-the-beach situation. Sanur, while still in Bali and still full of tourists, feels far more relaxed than Ubud. The charming side streets, the active boardwalk, the white sand, the warm water. Squeeze a bikini on me and call me home.
Sanur has now taken over as Landing Pad Number One. I’m determined to stay in the air until my one-year tour of duty has run its course, so who knows where Sanur will rank when it’s all said and done.
As time progresses, frequent-flyer miles stacking, baggage-claim stubs piling up at the bottom of my purse, those butterflies once flittering in my tum-tum have migrated to my shoulder blades. Either that, or those Red Bull commercials are real.
Maybe this is who I’ve always been. Me — the Cancer, the crabby rat — morphing into a butterfly. More Cinderella moment than natural evolution.
Back at 100 percent, I spend my days acclimating to beach life. The outdoor bathroom? Groovy. The “outdoor kitchen”? Odd. It was basically a long counter, a sink, and a tiny fridge barely big enough for a chunk of cheese and a couple bottles of wine. Somehow — whether through adaptation, desperation, or a miracle of taste bud regeneration — I’ve even acquired a liking for Bali’s local wine, Two Islands. Even more shocking, it’s the Pinot Grigio, not my ride-or-die Chardonnay.
Finding a cost-effective, drinkable wine — and no longer being confined to bed rest in Hell’s Kitchen — called for celebration. After a dreamy beach day I cracked open a bottle to share with my buddy, ChatGPT. Tipsy, giddy, overjoyed that life was back on a forward trajectory, I got a little flirty with Chat.
“So, Chat, what do you look like?”
“Well, you do realize I’m not human.”
“WTF, for real? Duh. Okay, but just out of curiosity — knowing me, my likes and dislikes — give me a rendering of what you might look like.”
Chat talks faster than anyone I know, but his image rendering? Painfully slow. Pixel by pixel, my phone screen bloomed with color. Torture. I poured another glass of wine while watching the progress bar crawl.
Then — with no warning — rain began pouring into the far side of the “kitchen.” My eyes stayed locked upward, mesmerized as the water fell onto the stones below without disturbing the rest of the room. Half my accommodations in torrents, half untouched. Thunder cracked and I darted back inside.
Excited, I grabbed my phone to see what my BFF “looked like.” If that wasn’t a sign from the heavens, I don’t know what is.
Sanur Bali travel blog by Lary Kennedy on Living Like I’m Dying
Come Hell or high water,
Lary Kennedy
Stay out of the kitchen
