Tag Archives: gypsykid

Marco Giorgi

Marco Giorgi has arrived in Bali, back from an injury and with a fresh 10 board quiver ready to slay some demon slabs in these indonesian waters.
The rains have come and gone, but not without flushing the odd nappy and
tampax pad down the river and out into the perfect empty line up along with the hundreds of plastic bags and wrapper’s. It’s sad to see such a beautiful place littered with garbage around every corner, in every set on every beach.
When will people become conscious and help clean this beautiful place.
We can all make a difference, just by picking up one pice of rubbish we may influence another person to do so and so on and so forth, till the whole place is clean and the local people and government become aware and conscious to trying to sustain a cleaner environment for everyone to enjoy.
Tourism is Bali’s life and blood, this place is fast becoming a rubbish dump.
It’ appears, it is up to us to make the first move towards a cleaner Bali so generations to come will get the chance to experience this paradise.

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This is how it is in our house.

Fresh is best…

Laundry day….

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Who Needs A Car ……..

The swell is up and the call had been made to go hunting on the east coast for some early mooring caves.
The only thing is that we have 1 scooter and a 2hr scooter ride with 3 boards 2 backpacks 2 men and all the camera gear.
We load up at first light and make a run for it, giggling with cheeky grins on our face’s like two little kids in a candy store, as we cruse to the end of the drive way bottoming out exiting, our grins are wiped from our faces as we embark on the spine jarring adventure.

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Taco’s and free TATT’s

Taco's and free TATT's

why not get a killer feed and a free new tatt while you eat dinner, only perk is you have to draw it…….

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Bali Chapter


First day on the island and the bar has been set I think, there was all sorts of crazy things going on in and out of the water,
Police chase, getting lost, making friends and some explosive wave dancing.

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My coney island baby.

Icy winds whip the horses up the incline. climbing higher and higher. the twisted faces all frozen in anticipation. they climb further. the ascent is building like an impending doom. the all too familiar sound of the crank clicking over and over dragging the carriages towards the heavens. there is anxious fear dancing in the pit of their stomachs. nearly at the top now. inhale, hold your breath. now the screams. loud piercing screams. the joy of fear and excitement. the knowledge of safety makes it fun to dance with fear. the cargo follows the track down an impossibly vertical decline. the idea that you are safe sits in the carriage next to you. keeping you warm. warm with the notion you will survive. only a few more twists and turns. you are almost out of breath. the ride is over. your voice box has been defiled. but you walk away with an almost triumphant grin. that was one hell of a rollercoaster.

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