Your forbidden archeologist sometimes has to endure being invited to out of the way places such as Bali, the original tropical island paradise. This can mean some very tiring flights, like the one from LA to Tokyo, and then on to Singapore, where I spent a restless night at one of the city-state’s monotonous glass and steel hotels. The next evening, I caught the Garuda Airlines flight to Denpasar, Bali’s main city and site of its international airport. When I arrived, my hosts put me up in a boutique tropical village style hotel in Sanur, on the southeast coast of Bali. The name of the place is the Tamu Kami Hotel, and I highly recommend it. Those who follow the lives of the rich and famous may recall that Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall were married in a Hindu wedding ceremony at Sanur back in the 1990s. In the mornings, I would take walks along the Sanur beach (some nice breaks out beyond the reef, if you are into surfing), chanting Hare Krishna on my beads. In the distance, up the coast to the north, I could see the Gunung Agung volcano rising from the golden tropical mists of dawn. Back in 1963 it blew its top, but it’s quiet now. I found the beachfront always a little deserted, an effect of some terrorist bombings a couple of years back in the main Balinese resort town of Kuta. Still, I did notice a smattering of mostly elderly tourists from Germany, Holland, and Japan.

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