Called my friend Wulan up who has done shipping for me in the past and asked her if she could find me a Factory.

Love this girl by the way. She is always there for you and goes out of her way to help you in any way she can.

(By the way I probably have about 50 or so friends here who are like her. Indonesian people are without doubt the kindest people on the Planet.)

So I meet her at her place and she introduces me to the guy in charge of the Factory. Nice enough guy, speaks no English at all so I’ve got to pull my Bahasa out of my hat.

One thing you have to do if you’re working in Bali is learn their language. Very important. Can’t imagine what working with him would be like in sign language.

Anyway we set off to see his Factory. It’s not a factory per se it’s more like a small hut with a few plastic chairs sitting outside.

So we proceed to speak about my clothing line and it’s about 90 degrees and there is no shade and I have to pee so bad I can’t focus. I cut the meeting short, give him some samples to work with and escape.

At this point I’ve only been in Bali 2 weeks and I’m seriously wondering what I’ve gotten myself into. I went back to my Villa and decided the only way to remedy this situation was to get dressed up and meet up with my International gang of friends at what we fondly call The Table at La Libre Restaurant. This always does the trick.

The cast of characters I have collected or have they collected me is like hanging out with Hunter S. Thompson and his gang. We imbibe a lot. We laugh insanely. We tell crazy stories that will never be revealed under oath. We eat and throw food. We sometimes even ground each other. We are all just a bunch of unusual suspects from all over the World who found each other, get each other and who party like Rockstars.

And a swell night was had by all. Back to the Villa to sleep it off and go in search of the Holy Grail or factory which ever comes first.