OK Renting a motorbike probably wasn't my best idea - but we are starting to recover!

One of the things I like about writing this blog is the ability to look at the statistics and see how many people are actually having a look at what I write - it is very encouraging that some people are  in fact taking the time to log on to see what Sandra and I are up to. However I am disappointed, although not in the least surprised, that readership traffic consistently varies in direct proportion to the level of crises in which we find ourselves. Postings that cover our many disasters such as Sandra re-attaching my ear; bogged down in a croc-infested swamp; marooned for over a week on a water-logged Oodnadatta track etc etc have been very "popular" i.e. the viewing stats have been high with over 500 viewings a day. However posts relating to more pleasant, enjoyable times with no obvious danger to life or limb have proved to be far less "popular".

Whilst viewing figures may have recently dropped off slightly it did not cross my mind for one instant to spice things up to increase readership by hiring a motorbike! My motor biking days are well behind me,  in fact if I am honest they weren't "days" but part of an afternoon which ended with me and a Norton Commando in a ditch. I have never ridden a motorbike since - until yesterday! I now know why motorcyclists wear leathers - it allows them to hang onto their skin when they crash. 

Part of the problem is where we are staying on the east coast of Bali.

Blue Moon Villa is quite idyllic perched on a headland with panoramic sea views, the obligatory massive bed, private gardens and private infinity pool - far beyond what a couple of pensioners should be spending their pennies on - although as Sandra says "It's only the once". Trouble is she keeps on saying it! Life here has become very relaxed lounging round the pool doing bugger all but eating, drinking and watching the local fishing fleet coming and going - so yesterday we decided to go snorkelling - it seemed sensible as we had lugged all our snorkelling gear from Scotland. Trouble was the best snorkelling beach was about 5k away, too far to walk in the sweltering heat, so we decided to rent a motorbike for a couple of days.

We had watched the locals on their motorbikes - dad driving, one youngster in front of dad, one youngster behind dad and mother bringing up the rear hanging onto the baby, a weeks shopping and a few crates of chickens - surely this must be a doddle? Personally I blame the bike for its inherent lack of stability - with my 16 stone, Sandra's not insubstantial tonnage and a backpack full of snorkels we teetered off to our fate - which hit us as I attempted a u-turn on a sandy road. At this point Sandra insists that I include that she did warn me by shouting in my ear to "Watch out for the sand". An over-enthusiastic touch on the throttle, a bit of injudicious brake work and Sandra disappeared somewhere behind me and I ended up underneath the bike - bloodied, scraped, bruised with the bike on top of me, engine running, and the ignominity off an instant crowd to the rescue. A second, and I suspect final, chapter in my motorbikng career!

All this and I'm afraid the snorkelling wasn't even all that good - pretty poor coral although not a bad turn out from the local fish.

Back to the mundane next time with holiday snaps of our tropical idyll and no dramas.