There's a lazy insolence in the way the locals move slowly about their tasks. It's difficult for me to tell if it's a form of disinterest with their activity or a measured conservation of energy. Perhaps as the young men in front of me leisurely drag air tanks through the waves they are simply wishing that they too were out playing in the ocean like the near by children. Certainly their bodies don't speak of a easy life.

Nusa Lembongan is the first place I've felt at all at ease. It's still full of tourists but at least they are my age and friendly, unlike the crowds of dour faced Australians in Kuta and the smiling but reticent retirees in Sanur.

Down the beach from where I'm drinking coffee and watching the morning unravel, three kids are playing in the waves on a broken surfboard. Taking turns skimming headlong into an oncoming wave to catapult head over heels into the water. Each wave brings shrieks of laughter from their friends and I regret leaving my camera back in my room a little more. More then anything I think it's the happiness of the children that puts me at ease, I'm glad the we're staying here a few days.

Across from me, two men have been sitting in a boat named Chilli for the last hour. They are waiting for something, but it's not clear what. Perhaps a diving tour? A couple of boats down a young European woman is being given a scuba lesson by her boyfriend. Periodically they disappear only to resurface a few minutes later behind a different boat.

I'm fascinated by the little differences. We haven't been slumming it and each place has had the full range of modern conveniences, but with caveats. At one the shower points at my navel and sprays water everywhere from the tap. Other one we think doesn't have hot water until we realise it simply takes the duration of a shower to warm up. Many are just a combined "wet room" which shower, toilet and sink all cohabitating in a tangle of pipes and levers. Some provide soap, some towels, none have bathmats and most are slowly disintegrating. I like the differences, each reflecting the biases of the owner and towns we're staying in.

This is the morning of my eighth day of my trip and while I'm settling into the pace and realities, already I'm wondering why I'm doing this. I feel just as out of place amongst the hard bodied locals and touring surfers as I always have. What do I want from this trip, am I chasing a childhood dream? I can clearly imagine friends and family rolling their eyes as I over think this as well, but its in my nature to try and understand.