It was another late start; we were trying our hardest to take advantage of the last few mornings of this particular luxury. How it would be missed.
 
We decided to go the opposite way on the map, up to the spot marked ‘1.’ Our guest house owner had warned us against going down a road to the left of the main one, apparently thats where all the criminals were, according to him. Noted.
 
We were going to have to put more petrol in at some point during the day, but we were okay for now. We set off along the ‘main road’ having to turn around at one point, as we needed to drive past the Novotel Hotel and that was on the road parallel to the one we were on, IE: the one with all the criminals. U-turn in the middle of the road, back we went.
 
We stopped at the beach next to the Novotel Hotel, mostly because we’d taken the wrong exit on the round about, but we decided to enjoy the scenery on the detour. The beach was average, full of locals trying to sell you sarongs and bracelets, so we decided to look for a quieter beach: in other words, one with out vultures. We hopped back on the scooter and mooched off to the next potential spot. According to the map, it was a swimming beach, which we both though we be a great place to go.
 
At the entrance to all the beaches, there were men sitting under covered shelters, doing very little, but of seeming importance. One man would stop and tell you that you had to pay 10 000 Rupiah to park; Edd would wait on the moped, I would hop off and check the beach out before we decided if we were going to stay or not. The men weren’t happy with this arrangement and told me I had to pay to park; I replied with, 'I’m not parking, I’m walking, he’s not parking, he’s waiting.’ They seemed particularly unimpressed, but it was tough. It turned out, they weren’t happy with our arrangement, because the beach was disgusting; probably the most disgusting beach I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing.
 
I walked back and got on the moped; we were definitely not staying here. The men wanted 10 000 Rupiah and I asked what for. They said it was for parking, but we hadn’t parked, we’d only stopped. There was a difference and we weren’t staying cos we could catch diseases from the rubbish infestation. They were not pleased, but Edd drove off; a couple that had arrived moments before us, were also leaving due to the disgusting state of the beach. 2 men hopped on mopeds and Edd and I thought they were going to run us down for not paying ‘to stop.’ Luckily they only drove past us and collected someone, passing us again to go back. If they all came together and tidied up a bit, instead of lying around under the shelter all day doing nothing, people would stay, as the beach was actually quite beautiful; if you bothered to rummage to find it.
 
We stopped at another beach further down; the road was washing away, turning into more of an obstacle course than a road, it was easier to drive on the side gravel bits as it was safer and smoother. Go figure. The next beach was nice, but we decided it was too overrun with vultures, so continued to the furthest beach there was and parked the moped on the grass just above where we set up. This way we could watch it, in case any of the locals got clever and tried to move it and make us pay. If wasn’t about the money (well it was in a way, we were skint), but it was more about the principal of it - these people pocketed the cash, didn’t actually watch your moped to make sure it was safe, as they slept most of the time and they didn’t actually look after the beaches. It’s not like the money was going towards the road either, as that was disintegrating before your eyes.
 
We had a little swim and tanned for a short while, having to move our things up the bank as the tide was coming in. I went for a quick dip to rinse the sand off me (our Cambodian tea towels (sarongs) were too narrow for a human to lie on, so you always had sand tracks up your arms, but I needed to put sun cream on and this was difficult with having half the beach on your back.
The tide was getting higher and higher and ended up soaking the bottom of our sarongs, the water came up so far; we didn’t have enough time to move them away as Edd was putting cream on my back. We figured it was time to move on anyway, so packed our sandy sarongs into the seat of the moped and hopped on; we weren’t at the furthest point on the map yet and still wanted to get there.
 
We were waved down on a corner in a village, by people who turned out to be trying to sell us boat trips to go surfing. The parking was free, apparently, but I wasn’t going to risk it - I got off and went to suss out the scene; it turned out to be the harbour, filled with spider boats. A bunch of girls were getting on one of the spider boats to go for a surf; Edd and I weren’t sure where they were going that was better this way than going to a beach, but it must have been amazing.
Edd got off the moped and suggested we have some lunch at one of the restaurants overlooking the boats. I was sceptical of the menu, as none of the things on offer had a price on the board outside - never a good sign.
 
We went in and were pleasantly surprised by the cheap cost of a meal. There was also a grey tabby cat that was very affectionate, sitting on my lap and insisting on a head scratch. Love at first sight. She tried to get some loving from Edd, but he was having none of it, so she came back to me and got comfy on the bean bag chair, purring loudly.
 
I ordered a seafood wrap and Edd ordered a chicken burger, but without the burger part - they were out of rolls. They toasted slices of bread instead and cut them into circles, it was humorous if anything. The food was amazing and we ate every last morsel on our plates. Edd then had a short nap on the bean bag chairs we were sitting on, while I played with my new furry friend and watched a small boat, tied up at the harbour, slowly fill up with water and sink. 
 
We eventually got up, paid and went for a mince around the small village; it turned out there wasn’t much there, but there was a place you could put petrol in, so we walked back to fetch the moped and then drove it back to the little pump. A man assited us and while Edd was opening the moped seat to get to the fuel cap, he turned a handle to fill the measuring jug inside a glass box back up to 5 litres. It was 9 000 Rupiah (42 pence - England, R8 - South Africa) a litre and our moped only needed 2, to fill up. If only we could pay these prices in other parts of the world.
 
We went back to our accommodation, stopping at the little touristy shops along the way, just for a gander. The problem with all the stores, like usual, was that they all sold the same stuff. So a top I was looking at, went form 80 000 Rupiah to 40 000 Rupiah 3 shops later; we didn’t get it, but it was fun trying to see how low they were willing to get bargained to. I spotted a restaurant filed with western travellers, so we clocked it for future reference, potentially dinner reference.
We went back to our guest house and had a little rest, drinking G&T’s on our balcony and playing rummy again, until about 6.30pm. We then went back to the restaurant we’d clocked earlier and sat down amongst a sea of other Westerners for dinner.
 
We both ordered chicken satay with peanut sauce and waited quite a while for it to arrive; the place was busy though, so it was no wonder. When it came we basically inhaled our food, while vultures tried to sell us bracelets by sticking them under our noses, over our plates. Edd in turn tried to sell him the piece of string he’d attached to the moped key, for 20 000 Rupiah. They all though it was very funny and kept telling him that he was making them bankrupt. I found it fascinating that they didn’t understand ‘no,’ but did understand ‘bankrupt’ must be a mental block of some kind.
 
We went back to our guest house and we straight to bed, it was 8pm on a Saturday night. When did we become so boring?!