it\'s usually not like thisIt's a known fact that tourism is a plague on Bali. Armed with this info I didn't go anywhere near a beach, instead staying in Ubud, allegedly the most culturally intact town on the island. Here I setup my usual ad-hoc studio and worked 12 hours a day, albeit with better views than usual. By luck the the few days of my stay coincided precisely with a biker convention. More specifically it was a Vespa convention, but far from what you'd expect of a Vespa crowd. It looked like a savage army had pitched camp in the center of the city. Crusty shoeless dudes with dreadlocks were eating, sleeping, and making a big trashy mess of all public space. It felt like a big "fuck you" to the managed tourist experience that the town normally offers. Here are some fotos of their rides, so chopped and modified that often the only recognizable vespa parts were the wheels and the motor. The bikers had contracted "Makona", a superstar dangdut band all the way from java. The musicians had matching outfits, and every few songs they'd swap out the woman singer. Their set lasted hours and each appearance by a different singer unveiled a new outlandish sexy outfit and dirty dance. At one point the local chief of police sang a duet with one of the girls, this is when i learned that he is a Vespa enthusiast himself and was instrumental in arranging the convention to be held in Ubud. There were no women in the audience, just a few thousand filthy sex-starved young men. And me. I guess I was sex-starved too, but not as young as most of them. Anyways, I love how here, like in so many other muslim countries, young men dance in a really feminine way with each other. With no women around there is no need to be roosters, everyone was smiling and dancing with abandon. Some guys dragged me up onto the security barricade to watch with a better view. The first thing i noticed from the new height was one other foreigner in the crowd not to far away, tall guy. I recognized him. �What I'm saying is that this man, Harlin, the�only other foreigner in sight at a massive biker convention in central Bali, is someone I know from the depopulated New Mexican desert, I even deejayed at his pole-building home one night to an audience of five.