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INDONESIA BANS SEX OUTSIDE OF MARRIAGE

Lurid surfer tales from a time before pre-marital sex bans in Bali.

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Indonesia has announced legislation to ban sex outside of marriage. The move pushed through by conservative forces is being challenged and the laws won’t come into effect for another three years but if they are implemented they will apply to locals and foreigners alike. Heavy news for the travelling surfer who has been known to partake in the occasional dalliance between barrels in Indo. Australian papers have already called it the ‘Bali bonk ban’.  

In a time before Covid, Bali based corespondent, Matt George, traversed the wildly bohemian Canggu scene and wrote a piece for Tracks titled ‘Eat Pray Fuck’ . Below is an excerpt. It makes one wonder what sort of impact the new laws will have in Bali? 

MEN AND WOMEN 

Unlike the “Hell Zone” of neighboring Kuta, overseen by the 2002  bombing memorial, you won’t find many “working Girls” cruising the streets of Canggu. For the darker, danker experiences of professional sex, one must make the journey to Bali’s ground zero down in Kuta. Cheaper too. Out in Canggu the pick up scene is much more European. Still, men don’t save any money seeking the end result. Canggu is an expensive date. Far more western couples out in Canggu as well. Surfing side by side on alternative surfboards, making a go of it. But Gary, “Gazza” Kilpatrick, a visitor I ran into at had this to say: 

“Yeah mate, plenty of one nighters out here in Canggu, mate. The party circuit. Euro’s looking to sleep with different accents and Aussies just scrounging a root. Still cost the same though, when you look at it. To scrounge a root here, drinks, the chit chat, the hours you gotta put in. Kuta is the release valve for that bullshit. At least there you pay up front and its all over in less than an hour. Hit the surf early, mate”.  

I ran into an old friend, Rod Robertson, a Qantas pilot out of Brisbane. A concerned Father, he was paying his daughter a surprise visit for her birthday. He had this to say: 

“I show up and some long haired, giant Russian surfer with Moscow Mafia Tattoos is plowing my daughter silly? What is this place?” 

The sheer number of surf camps in Canggu can be dizzying. Most of them catering to a separate nationality. On any day it seems every flag on earth is represented out in the water. Flotillas of women on soft-tops, empowering themselves. There is a Korean women’s camp, A Japanese, A German, a Russian and even one that caters to lesbians. This influx of women active in the surf and clubs adds to the sexual opportunity. At a Korean BBQ joint, another element was explained to me by Mieni Khim, the foxy owner, bra-less, super-lite tee shirt, her breasts a startling challenge to anyone brave enough to take the shot.  

“The women get the best of it out here in Canggu. Surfers are the best looking crowd in the world right now. And they are simple minded and single minded and totally accessible. We just show up and look like prey. But we are not the prey. They are”.   

….……………… 

A conversation: 

As an example of the bohemian lifestyle here, consider this conversation I witnessed outside of the popular new beach side open air nightclub. A woman who appeared to be a Russian supermodel was locked in an argument with what appeared to be a french fashion photographer. His hair was done up in a man bun. You will have to imagine the accents. The photographer was on a scooter with two boards in the rack. A seven foot single fin snout nose and a little chocolate colored fish design with half moon fins. They were both this side of drunk.  

Woman: “I’m a creative! I need visuals to understand love! What is love? You want to sleep with me? Sleep? You go to sleep, I’m not tired! You wanna fuck? Give me a visual of it, I need the visual” 

Man: “Merde”. 

Woman: “What? What? Are you glupyy?”  

Man: “Non”. 

Just then two Aussies surfers swerve up on scooters. Probably there to take advantage of the three for one ladies drinks special that the couple had obviously been enjoying.  Prime time for a hunter. The two Aussies, half drunk as well, are staring at the supermodel. Its impossible not to. Her macrame outfit is way better than nude, her love beads hanging to her knees. She has small shiny stars glued to her face, increasing her celestial looks. It goes quiet for few seconds. The Aussies mouths were open. Then the woman addressed the Aussies.  

Woman: “You like to fuck me? Give me visual. Visual. I am a creative”. 

To the Aussies it was like a shot of buckshot into a tree full of blackbirds. The short one recovered first.   

Aussie Surfer: “Outdoors?…in warm mud?…under tonight’s full moon?”.  

The woman looks at the photographer. Shows her teeth. Grabs her chocolate fish design from the photographers scooter and hops on the back of the Aussie’s scooter slinging one slender arm around his waist. 

Woman: “We go”.  

And they did.  

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