#BTC#

Bali Night Feast

The dawn has just broken,
The crests of the Indian Ocean are adorned with bronze surfers.
The hustle and bustle of Kuta Beach begins with the first tide —
The beginner wobbles onto the surfboard with the support of the coach,
Once again gently overturned by the waves, the salty sea water wrapped around laughter and flowed into my mouth and nose.
In the distance, a skilled practitioner rides the waves swiftly, their figure carving a silver arc in the shimmering light of the waves.
I tightened my long-sleeved wetsuit and jumped into the waves,
After a stumble, I stood firmly at the bow, the moment the sea breeze slammed into my chest,
Suddenly felt like I became the child of Poseidon, the god of the sea.

The seafood江湖 is currently playing out a life-and-death race.
When transferring to Kedonganan Fish Market,
The smell of the sea is rushing towards me with the heat wave.
The three-meter-long yellowfin tuna was unloaded from a truck by a strong man, and the tail swept through the flying sand; Oysters refract rainbow light in crushed ice, and crabs hold up blue-black claws. I pointed to a strange fish with iridescent scales, and the stall owner scraped the scales and gills with a knife in his hand, and the iron plate instantly rose with the smoke of sea salt. Without the need for elaborate sauces, coarse salt and charcoal fire force out the most raw sweetness of the deep sea – people know how to carry bikini girls from stall to stall and bespoke fish straight to private yachts.

When the scorching sun reaches the dome, Bali's divinity awakens in the eastern mountains. Drive for three hours to reach the Gate of the Sky, where the mist-shrouded Gate of Good and Evil divides the heavens and the earth. Two hours in line for one minute of time to shoot: In the mirror, my outstretched arms are suspended on the top of Mount Agung, as if stepping into a rift between the divine realm and the human world. Twenty kilometers away, the Wujung Water Palace is even more secluded, with the ruins destroyed by the volcano in 1926 and the newly built palace coexisting in the blue waters. Walking barefoot through the cool stone steps and sipping the "holy water" from the fountain pool, the sarong-clad priest smiles through the columns, and suddenly understands why the rich love to come here in search of spiritual anchors.

At dusk, when the gold melts,
The cruise ship at Benoa Harbor is transforming into a mobile palace.
The Bali Hai catamaran cuts through the emerald waves, while a champagne tower bubbles delicately amidst the string music. An Eastern European model in a backless gown leans against the railing, her diamond earrings trembling lightly with laughter; a wealthy Singaporean businessman points to the school of tuna leaping from the sea and says to his children, "Look! Those are the coins of the sea god!"
When the waiter served the grilled lobster with banana leaf rice,
The evening glow just spreads over the glass cabin.
The entire ocean turned into flowing molten gold.

The noise at Jimbaran Beach lingers late into the night.
The candlelight weaves into a galaxy on the sandy ground,
The sound of the guitar is mixed with drunken sweet nothings in various languages.
We walked barefoot through the cool waves, dodged the vendors holding roasted corn, and found a secluded place to sit on the ground. The waiter brought an ice tray full of oysters, and the moment the lemon juice dripped down, the outline of Mount Agung in the distance was outlined by the moonlight—at that moment, the "three elements of happiness" of the Balinese people were suddenly revealed: the body lifted by the waves, the delicacies fed by the volcano, and the soul guided by the stars.

People often say that Bali is a paradise on earth,
As I watched the private jet glide past the cliffs of Lover's Leap,
Suddenly understood:
The so-called paradise,
It's just a cocktail made by mortals with waves, tuna, and sunsets.
The first sip scorches the throat,
Drinking again will lead to addiction.