The hot air hits you like a sledgehammer. Then you face a barrage of shouting. "Where you go, mister? You want taxi? I give you very good price." Through the din and throng of people we search for the driver from our hotel. They assured us he would be here. He is not.

Eventually, a youngster appears bearing a sign with our name. "Mr Russell? I thought your flight came in later so I slept in the car." A likely story!

‘Bali has to be the sweetest smelling place on the planet… it has every spice you have ever dreamt of.’

We are jet-lagged, hot and bothered, and now we have a long car ride ahead of us. Thank goodness for the car’s air-con. We sit back and take in the scenery — little villages that seem never ending, although the houses are actually no more that three rows deep and behind them stretch a sea of rice paddies dotted with coconut palms. The palm fronds barely stir; the air is still, heady and intoxicating.

Bali has to be the sweetest smelling place on the planet — jasmine and sandalwood incense, ripe tropical fruits, fragrant leaves and grasses, kratek cigarettes laced with cloves, and every spice you have ever dreamt of.

Our car trundles into the little town of Candi Dasa. The main road is attractive, lined with restaurants and hotels, but the locals have ruined the beach by excavating the coral reef for building material. Now exposed to the full force of the waves, what was once a beach has disappeared. But that’s not our concern — we are here for the renowned offshore dive sites of Nusa Penida.

We stay at the Puri Bagus, a delightful hotel just outside the town with air- conditioned bedrooms and a pool and bar area. The town’s restaurants are equally good, though the menus make us laugh. It seems the Balinese find it hard to distinguish between the English ‘F’ and ‘P’, so we get offered pruit salad and progs legs.

As for drinks, the ‘Shui Li Temple’ cocktail sounds a lot more exotic than the Shirley Temple that is delivered to our table. And over dinner, we learn an important lesson: don’t drink the tap water and don’t drink the local wine — the effect on your digestive system will be similar.

A wine called Hatton Aga, reputedly made from Balinese grapes by an ex-pat Kiwi winemaker, is not cheap at around R65. But it is awful: no nose whatsoever, a metallic palate and a bitter aftertaste. Later, we try the ‘renowned’ Hatten Rose, sister to Aga. The relationship proves too close however — the wine is barely drinkable.

The following morning, the dive company picks us up for the drive through palm plantations and rice paddies to Pandangbai where the dive boat is moored. It’s a perfect day. The sea is flat and blue. We clamber aboard the boat and are filled with more than the usual sense of excitement. Nusa Penida is renowned for its strong currents, its excellent corals and the presence of large pelagic species.

Manta rays are not uncommon and this is one of those parts of the world where you can see the strange mola mola or sunfish — a weird fish, shaped like a large disc, which can grow to over half a ton.

"A diver was lost two weeks ago and hasn't been found"
The first dive is at a site notorious for its strong currents, and today is no exception. Our dive instruction is short and to the point. "We will do a backward roll into the water and immediately make for the rope dragging behind the boat. Once everyone is on the rope we will dive to 25 metres and run with the current. Stay close to your buddy and don’t take any chances. A diver was lost two weeks ago and has not been found."

Nice. Just what we want to hear. But he’s right of course — currents are amongst the most dangerous hazards faced by a diver. But drift dives can be as exciting as white water rafting, plus you often catch sight of large fish that use the currents as their fishing ground.

Holding on to the rope is strenuous so it’s a relief when the last diver joins us and we dive. Wow, it’s fantastic! Visibility is up to 40-metres and we literally zoom along. All around, thousands of reef fish busily cross the current in search of food. A two-metre white tip reef shark cruises against the current. It sees us, turns, and is gone. Our dive leader, Ketut, points out an eagle ray deep below us, also pacing the current. The coral is terrific, too, but at this speed, there is no time to inspect the details.

Suddenly, off to the right, I see a large mola mola, hanging in the current with no effort at all. I signal frantically to my buddy but in a flash it’s gone. Minutes later a large Napoleon wrasse passes right below our group in search of prey. He is a magnificent specimen, probably weighing in at around 100 kilograms. We dive for 55 minutes, covering a stonking 3km. What an experience! (Even if afterwards nobody believes I saw a mola mola…)

By now the current has picked up to over six knots, so we head for Blue Bay for lunch on the boat. This is a little cove, with a white sandy beach and clear, inky-blue water. It’s great for snorkelling but we’re warned to stay away from the mouth of the bay where the current, boiling as it roars past, could suck us out. After lunch, it’s low tide and the current eases. "This is a good time to do the Toyapakeh dive site," Ketut tells us. "It will let us take a more leisurely look at some of the more interesting fish and coral."

We immediately see three nudibranch, quaint little creatures with two antennae that look like snails outside their shells. Then we find three scorpion leaf fish, so well camouflaged — like bits of foliage drifting in the current — that we would never have seen them if Ketut didn’t point them out.

Under a cave we sight a large Wobigong shark, an ugly fellow with the body of a shark and a big flat head that is just about all mouth. Little bits of skin dangle from its upper lip, rather like tentacles, to attract smaller fish, which are then pounced on as a quick snack. Wobigongs are said to be temperamental, so we keep our distance.

Cuttle fish glimmer in the open water. A moray eel and a large octopus desperately search for holes in which to shelter. A superb big scorpion stone fish does a flashing colour change for our benefit…

Heading South
For our last few days in Bali, we head south. The whole area has been developed for tourists and, though perhaps not ‘authentic’, it is an island of calm representing some of the best in Balinese design and taste. We get an incredible deal at the Nusa Dua Beach Resort — five-star deluxe rooms with breakfast and airport transfers for around R500 per couple per night.

One of the area’s nicest features is a paved two-kilometre walk along the seashore in the shade of thousands of palm trees. Meandering past all the major hotels with ocean frontage, you have the option of stopping for a drink or snack at any number of bars and restaurants overlooking the sea.

One night we have a craving for a seafood splurge, so we catch a cab to Jimbaran beach, which is said to offer the freshest and the best at affordable prices.

We walk around the side of a simple café and there are at least 300 tables spread out along the waters edge, all set and awaiting customers. It’s low season and the competition among the beach cafés is fierce but we settle on Warung Mina, for no particular reason, and take our seats about 20 metres from the ocean. Across Jimbaran Bay, planes taking off and landing at Bali International Airport provide a spectacular show of lights, but with the gentle breeze in our favour we are spared the roar of jet engines.

Every type of seafood is on offer, mostly live and certainly fresh. We are shown five varieties of fresh fish, three varieties of prawns, lobsters of all sizes, as well as squid, crab, clams, mussels and more. We settle on a snapper and a kilo of prawns, to be washed down by a few litres of Bintang beer — so cold that slivers of ice have formed — a gift from the gods, considering it’s still 29° at 9pm.

The seafood arrives — fresh and cooked over an open fire to succulent perfection. With the beer, it sets us back a very reasonable R150. As we finish our meal, the moon comes up over the horizon, shooting white moonbeams over the ocean. Nothing could be more magical. We take a slow walk after dinner before concluding a perfect evening with a silky Remy Martin, the moonlight casting amber lights through our balloon glasses.

All too soon we are back at Denpasar airport catching our flight home. It does not seem as hot and humid as before, and the cries of “Taxi! Where you go, mister?” no longer irritate. Bali’s still the same — but we have changed, and we will be back.

		Visit Bali Bali is one of some 13 000 islands in the Indonesian Archipelago but none of the other islands offers as much variety in such a relatively small area. Heavily dependent on tourism, the economy has suffered since October 12, 2002 when a series of precision bomb attacks aimed at Western holiday-makers claimed 203 lives and left many hundreds more injured. There have been no further terrorist attacks since, and the Balinese are picking up the pieces. But there will always be non-Balinese extremists who look on the island as a den of iniquity, so before you head off there consult the Department of Foreign Affairs for an update on the situation. For more information on going to Bali, visit the Bali Tourist Authority