THE PINK BIKE DIARY

Where is Tom? 

The lost Grab driver saw a glimpse of him riding a pink bike to Nusa Dua to perform a Balinese dance at Mercure and chant the songs of Navicula. 

 

Where is John? 

The side event concluded but we could not find him at Jimbaran Beach where we trawled for pork ribs+, grilled shrimps and fresh oysters.

Where's my pink button?

I got a pink bike instead that brought me to the mysterious Geger Beach, to an enclave of opulent hotels and manicured lawns lining the coast of Nusa Dua Beach, and to a shrine at Mengiat Beach.

That night, we went back to Geger Beach with an offering of grilled shrimp, fish and squid for the deities who on Wednesday finally allowed us into the Summit at The Muliah and the gluttony of its lavish restaurants. 

Where is the site visit?

To the Nusa Dua jogging track where winds pushed the pink bike into the sea at Gandu Pandang, wobbly afterwards but still able to carry me to the cliffs of Nusa Dharma Island and the giant statues at Penisula Island before encountering a nude sunbather at Geger Beach whose tan glistened from the golden sunset of Kuta Beach.

Where's the shuttle?

It was found abandoned at the Mercure beachfront where the waterblow washed my laundry for twice the price of a meal at Warung Babi Guling Pak Dobil and Nasi Ayam Ibu Oki, and what can be my last free lunch at Restoran Garuda in Jakarta.

HAI[na]KU 60-64

-60-

outbox jammed and cleared

census done, motorbike gone

to Bali or bust

-61-

just energy rules

friends, mentors and an asshole

sublime talking points

-62-

digital G2

five short years evaluated

speakers unveiled

-63-

Brits at the wedding 

Xiao Qiao's grilled fish, Ning's goat soup

birthday pata tim

-64-

beer, whiskey, brandy

lamb biryani to Bali

biking for udon

G2 + 2 WEEKS

Influencing the ASEAN can be an enigma: easy as ushering home two flat tires, difficult like greasing a bike chain with a punctured can of WD-40, or hard as recovering a hacked Facebook account.  

Such was the palette of colors which painted murals of just energy transition and inclusive business in the canvass of my contract that remains to be stamped by two redundancy payments.

So I sent Ishita, my alter ego, to guard the kaldereta and lechon against the sorrowful eyes of Kyou Kai who was mourning the inappropriateness of taba-less menudo and sisig, iced beer and loud karaoke. 

I also pledged on Veerappan's notorious legacy to incubate an inclusive business for tokwa't baboy and smuggled Thai beer to honor the MILF of Bakal 2 and Rheka's soiled innocence.

And it was Liu Hong Mei, her feetless specter patched with Albert Lin's right leg, who conveyed our Expression of Interest to participate in the 22nd meeting of the ASEAN Committee on Women.   

Saturdays no longer excite me but the 32 pieces of lumpiang shanghai for MASP's birthday and rubbery kapukan from the reunion of The Watalubs from Maligaya and Carmen were exceptions.

7 days and 152.8 kilometer

1 flight booking and 3 hotel reservations

3 media plans and 2 op-eds

8 meeting in 5 days

X number of emails and messages

0 Masonic labors