The locals didn’t give a damn and these are the guys that rule the roost and they tore the absolute bejesus out of it too. Apart from a couple words heard behind our backs, only one comment was made to me by an older American woman towards the end of the swell who then went on to burn someone on the next wave. Class act. Each day the apres session Bintangs on the veranda never tasted so sweet. We were blissfully satiated by our quota of surf while wave after wave continued to pour into the bay. We’d then make our way back to our lodgings for a couple more over sambal chicken and sweetly dream of what we’d just been blessed with and what was in store for the next day.It was literally like a dream and we couldn’t but wonder at the fortuitousness of what we’d just experienced. And this was only the beginning.