I like to have a routine. This morning I ran out along my road, Jalan Sri Wedari, for 20 minutes or so. We're on a ridge with drops on either side, but as the road winds up the hill it flattens out a bit. There are temples and these rice terraces at Tegallantang, lots of street dogs, and plenty of people and kids to say "Mornin!" to. This was my first run here, but I'm hoping to have another one tomorrow with a woman I chatted with yesterday morning. My new routine is to have breakfast of fresh juice and kopi, and sometimes savoury rice, at the warung three doors up. It's sort of like the Coffee Mamma van scene in Albury, complete with low plastic stools but without the lycra.
Last night I spent time with some of Ubud's literati at Bar Roma, at a literary event honouring bad-boy poet Arthur Rimbaud. There were poetry readings, a birth chart reading, performances and a couple of songs. Mention was made of the New York punk scene of the 1970s, so I felt right at home in my Chelsea Hotel T-shirt.
My main priority during this week in Ubud is to try and finish a job. I've not had much luck organising a volcano climb through various contacts, and the weather's not being very cooperative. (It's been raining for two days.) Tomorrow I'm meeting up again with the bloke who coordinates the Hash House Harriers. I spoke with Morgan and his wife Krista at their cafe out near the Bintang Supermarket the other day.
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