Yesterday you will recall was a day of relaxation by the pool. Today, for the most part was going to be more of the same. 
Again, we set up camp in the Chill Out Pool area and settled in to our day bed. Both of us were feeling a little bloated if we're honest, so being still really was the order of the day.
However, the day wasn't going to be all poolside fun. James had booked us a lovely sunset dinner cruise. This classic Bali experience was one that we were both looking forward to, but as the evening drew closer, that unsettled feeling in my stomach grew even louder. I was coming around to the idea that I had become the first of us to be struck by "Bali Belly" (similar to Deli Belly, but more spicy!).
I tried to speed the inevitable along as best as I could so that would be alright to go, but to no avail. The more I thought about climbing aboard a boat with a stomach that was already doing somersaults, the more the queeziness grew.
Probably rather cruelly, I waited until the very last moment as the taxi tuned up to take us to the boat, to suggest to James he went on his own. I wouldn't want him to miss out. Turns out it was the right decision, since I barely made it back to our room before the inescapable bodily eruptions occured (well, Bali is a volcanic island, I thought you'd appreciate the metaphor (rather an accurate one as it turns out)). I spend the rest of the evening going from bedroom to bathroom and back again.
However, you didn't come here to read about that did you? Over to James to tell you about the cruise.
My adventure began with the 30 minute taxi ride from our hotel in Kuta, having been "dumped at the altar" as it were by Spencer! I found myself at the Benoa harbour, a hive of activity with bobbing boats and sun-kissed (I mean burnt!) tourists. After a quick hop on another taxi, I finally boarded the catamaran, a sleek vessel promising a sunset serenade. By the way, the one above isn't the boat we were on - I forgot to take a picture of it (where's Spencer when you need him?). However, it was docked nearby and I thought it was cool.
My first order of business, as any respectable aperitif enthusiast would do, was to secure a bellini. Two sips in, I struck up a conversation with Karla and Kevin, a Canadian couple from the eastern shores (Prince Edward Island, to be precise). We bonded over our shared love of travel, the bonds between our two countries and how different the weather is here!
As we set sail, Bali's majestic Mount Batur, the island's biggest volcano, loomed on the horizon, a silent sentinel against the fiery sky. The captain, sensing our queasiness (the sea was a touch choppier than a kid's paddling pool), wisely steered us into the calmer waters of the bay. Here, we basked in the golden glow of the setting sun. Not the most spectacular of sunsets since it was so cloudy and so I didn't bother with a photo.
As the the last rays dipped below where I imagined the horizon was, we were summoned! Dinner was calling! We descended to the lower deck, where a buffet fit for a king awaited. Dauphinoise potatoes, melt-in-your-mouth beef rendang, and a rainbow of fresh salads – my tastebuds were doing a happy dance.
Later, the rear deck transformed into a stage for a mesmerizing display of traditional Balinese dance. Lithe dancers, adorned in intricate costumes, wove tales of gods and goddesses, their movements as graceful as the swaying palm trees. One particularly muscled dancer (who, I might add, also caught Karla's eye) had us all mesmerized with his pulsating physique and rhythmic moves.
The official dance program ended, but the party was just getting started. The DJ spun contemporary beats, and the deck became a dance floor for the liberated souls of the sea. I was politely (but firmly) encouraged to join the revelry, but my inner wallflower was having none of it.
As the moon replaced the sun in the sky, it was time to return to port. The ride back was a little bumpier, thanks to the evening traffic near my hotel. But with a heart full of laughter, a belly full of delicious food, and a memory bank overflowing with vibrant images, I decided to ditch the taxi for the last kilometre - I wanted to get back and see how Spencer was doing - my phone hadn't had any signal all night so I hoped he was ok.
He had very sweetly stayed up for me (partly out of love and kindness, but also, I didn't have a room key!) and we updated each other on our evenings. I can say than mine was definitely the more picturesque of the two!
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