'From the back of the cab on the way from the airport in Denpasar, we hit Kuta and I saw three very sunburnt back packers dancing on the side of the road. I couldn't hear the music, but it could have been some African drum [n] bass by the way one of them saw jerking his arms. They were holding beers and buying food from a mobile warung- a motorcycle with a wooden bain-marie perched on the back - the misted over glass obscuring the shape of unidentifiable meats.' (Author's abstract)