A place of legend. Stories shared around the fire, passed down through generations. But worrisome wanderers feared these illuminations were from the glow of handheld device instead of passion within. And precariously beginning from the end of the alphabet, they approached these rumours cautiously, in search of the why. A name brand. A place synonymous with everything that was to be this trip. Yet there was a hesitancy. A sense of too good to be true? Expectation such a dangerous proposition in the context of travel. A power to sway one from joy to disappointment to maybe the worst of all, neutrality. These thoughts swirling with their own fervency, needed not was the conflict of motor and motion that brought them crashing back to reality. Aye, one must allow experience to present itself before judgement befallen, but one must also survive the journey to arrive on the shores of discovery. Through the veil of time passed it is difficult to decipher the winds of chaos. Were these harrowing moments at sea, or upon landfall? Whether it were the bow of the ship or the souls of our heroes, nothing was to stand in the way of adventure’s call. In the distance was the shriek of forest relatives and a coast of constant inclination to be controlled and capitalized. The place, a teleportation device. Experience or imaginary, the word alone enough to transport across the world in an instant. Tis nowhere else than the legend itself: Bali.