I can totally understand why people rave about Bali – a truly wonderful place – loved it – so serene – and very quiet. I took a flight from London to Singapore that took 12 hours, then a 2 hour wait in Changi – could be far worse places to wait! And off to Bali, on a low cost airline, Australian Airlines. It only took 2 hrs 5 mins, so only a hop and a good airline experience.

We were met at Depensar airport around 10pm by a very good natured man from the resort I'd booked and we transferred in an air con'd jeep that had seen better days to the north part of Bali, cutting through the mountains, past dark reflective lakes and rice terraces, past lush rain forest and neat houses adjoining the road and the silhouettes of Hindu temple after temple. Even in the dark, it all looked very clean and fascinating. It took two and a half hours, but we were later to realise that this was a very good time to do the transfer as during the day, the roads are unbelievably congested with men on motorbikes, men and whole families concertina-d on motorbikes, men and women riding side saddle on motorbikes, small stall holders with their wares on motorbikes, ancient lorries dripping with all manner of contents churning to get up hills and the odd short mini bus, but no tourists.

Got to the hotel about 1am, full of beans and explored the grounds, saw the sign saying do not feed the monkeys, dipped my toes in one of many hot springs and was up early the next day to sort out diving.

The place we stayed in had several natural hot spring pools: some really, really hot, some just very hot and some varying between just right to cold – total bliss. After 2 nights of staying in a very nice room, with a semi open air bathroom surrounded by tropical plants, I came back from diving and was met by a very excited friend, Marian, who told me that we had been upgraded to our own villa with its own hot spring tub kind of thing. It was very posh, and we spent hours in our own little natural spring hot tub in our own courtyard surrounded by tropical flowers and banana, mango and papaya trees – total bliss!

Very good diving, all drift diving, some strong currents, including down currents – hhhmm – oh, and dynamite fishing whilst we were in the water! This was a little scary. The previous day we'd been out diving around Menjangen Island when we unexpectedly came across several men diving along side us, breathing in compressed air from an umbilical cord leading from a boat on the surface. They had a couple of weights wrapped around their waist but no other safety equipment, like a gauge to tell them how deep they were or how long they'd been in the water.

This is extremely dangerous, as they were doing hideous dive profiles, see-sawing up and down is a great way to get air embolisms, not to mention the bends if you are in the water too long. Not only were they carrying spear guns, but they were stealing tiny baby colourful tropical fish – for sale in aquariums. The three pictures show a baby puffer fish and a clown anemone fish, both the type these pirates were trying to catch.

They had long metal rods and were poking around behind coral and in the crevices, they knew exactly what they were after – baby lion fish and butterfly fish, but very, very small ones. They coaxed or frightened them out from their hiding places, caught them in a butterfly kind of net and then put them into plastic bags and tied them to themselves. It was not a good sight.

This was not quite in the protected WWF marine reserve where I mostly dived, but they most definitely should not have been doing this. They were no more pleased to see us than me and the dive instructor I was with, were to see them. They knew they were 'in the wrong' and it was a very awkward situation under water, a little aggressive and certainly very threatening. When we got back to our dive boat, and were returning to our hotel, the Japanese instructor (a tiny little thing, with the strength of Goliath) said in Indonesian (which I picked up a fair bit of!) to the guys on the pirate boat that she was going to call the police. They were not impressed.

The next day we dived in a different part of the same marine sanctuary, when we heard this massive boom. There is only one sound, that, even under water sounds like that – explosives. I was rather scared, to put it mildly! Someone close by was dynamite fishing. It was not a good feeling, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, my time was up, and this is how it was all going to end – making enemies with Indonesians stealing tropical fish who dynamited us out of the water for revenge. But, as you can see, they did not dynamite us, but there were four explosions on that dive and they were further away than I first thought, but it was still very scary, the whole water and landscape seems to vibrate and shake, almost as if it was crying.

Apart from the dynamite fishing, I can whole heartedly recommend the unvisited northern and north east part of Bali, it's beautiful, the people serene, friendly and a privilege to have spent time there.

We are sorry to say that Mac is not very well, but he is still e-mailing strong and recently sent the Beetle a collection of travel reminiscences about China.

Beijing, China. The Imperial Palace in the Forbidden City in Beijing has 9000 rooms.  We agreed that if we got lost and separated from each other we would meet in the Hall of Heavenly Purity (if they would let us in.)  At the time I was there, the military did not wear rank on their uniforms (don't know if this still applies or not.)  You could kind of get an idea of who outranked who by the number of pockets they had on their blouse of uniform.  Someone with four pockets would have their baggage carried by someone with one pocket or no pockets.

In the hotels the orchestras (In the Peace Hotel in Shanghai I think they had some of the members or orchestra from the 30s) would play songs they thought we would like.  Oh Susannah from a couple of decades ago seemed to be making a comeback, as well as Turkey in the Straw and and Auld Lang Syne.  At the end of each number the players would put down their instruments and applaud us in the audience.  We could hardly wait for the Tuba player to unwind from his Tuba to applaud us.

Our Chinese guide in Wushi kind of had a high opinion of himself (unusual for Chinese) and thought he was hip in Western ways.  He liked to show off and showed us how he was proficient in Tai Chai.  Blonde vivacious Liza asked him to dance with her.  He said that no he could not dance with a client but that he would arm wrestle her!  He told long involved stories about the Kingdom of Wu and Dragons and such. George whispered: “I wonder what he would say if we told him we didn't want to hear any more dragon stories?” 

In 1977 I got in on a deal on a trip to China.  A western cruise ship had not gone into China in twenty seven years but suddenly a Swiss outfit got permission and an ad was in the LA paper one day only and participants had a very short time to get on trip.  I had to fly to Singapore and get on Norwegian Rasa Sayang ship.  Why it did not leave from Hong Kong I don't know.  Everything about that trip was strange.  On board we were arranged into 24 groups of 24 people and in each group they arbitrarily chose a responsible person.  This was the person the Chinese dealt with to give us bad news to pass on to us others.  Your tour has been cancelled.  Unpaid thankless job.  Our Chinese guides had names that phonetically sounded like Mr Shi, Mr Ee and Miss Ou.  They met us at gangplank with Miss Ou carrying a banner with number 13 the number of our group.   24 buses were there to meet us.  It was like a military operation although we were all supposed to be civilians.  One Australian before we left ship asked if it was alright if he wore walking shorts.  He was told “You are going to look so strange to the Chinese that is makes no difference what you wear”.

Our guide Miss Ou had pigtails, glasses no makeup and wore a bag like Mao suit.  Most of our tour group dressed down, slacks etc but one lady in our group wore high heels and a different fancy outfit for each appearance as she said she wanted the Chinese to see her clothes and how they could dress.

There was no tipping but on the second day I gave Miss Ou some picture post cards of Washington, D. C.  She then gave me a ten minute speech that she would accept hers as a signal of international friendship.  I then became her pet and she would come to me on pronunciation of English.  I, who have a speech defect, ha!

At the Pan His Restaurant No 15l Hsiang Yang Rd (Kissinger ate there,) Canton, where we ate one meal, Miss Ou would tell us what was in each dish.  Duck, shrimp, vegetable and other materials. When she saw some smile at “other materials” she looked to me and I said other ingredients.

Wherever we went there would be Chinese on each side of sidewalk waiting for us to come out of antique stores, whatever and they would applaud us.  I thought it was voluntary but was told that they had probably been ordered to do this and perhaps had been there since five o clock that morning waiting for us to arrive although they probably had no idea who we were or where we were from.  I felt like Prince Philip viewing China and found myself walking with my arms behind my back.  I bowed graciously to my fans.  They have gotten so many tourists now that they no longer applaud us.

On my first trip to China they said that five of each 24 group of 24 could witness acupuncture which was new to me so I raised my hand.  Most of us did not realize that this demonstration of acupuncture included watching five bloody operations in a hospital where they used acupuncture as an anaesthetic.  One lady passed out immediately and they put one of the needles between her mouth and nose and she came right to.  We were in a viewing area that looked down on the operating tables.  One operation was to remove a goitre from an elderly lady.  After they removed the goitre the size of a golf ball they passed it up to us on a tray much as if they were passing around something to eat at a cocktail party.  After the fourth operation I felt woozy myself and so left room and climbed stairs to roof of hospital.  Attendants came running after me.  There was a church with a steeple nearby and I tried to act like I had just gone up there for the view and to see China as I wasn't seeing much of China in that operating room.  I pointed to the church spire and said what is that building? I was told “It is where they store useless objects (religious statues, religious things).  Just wait until I tell Father Murphy!

We were told that acupuncture did not work as anaesthetic unless you had faith in it. The advantage is that there were supposedly no after effects and one could eat after the operation. In fact before the operation which I don't think is usual practice. When the tumour was removed from the neck of the elderly lady, they wanted to show us that she could navigate on her own. She kind of slid off table looked up at us and waved and we waved back. She then kind of stumbled out of the room.

Would I submit to acupuncture in an operation? Only if I could have an anaesthetic as well.

I did later on another trip submit to this form a barefoot doctor. They call them barefoot doctor (not barefoot) but those that work helping those in communes and field. I paid something like fifteen cents. It was to cure a cold. They then gave me a certificate entitling me to free acupuncture care for a year.

British Airways whose tagline has been 'the world's favourite airline' has been overtaken by our friends Ryanair whom it has been recorded carried more passengers in August 2005 than the whole of BA.  This could have something to do with the Gate Gourmet catering fiasco/strike and increasing competition.  Ryanair's latest monthly figures for August show that BA carried 156,000 fewer passengers than the Irish airline which saw numbers soar by 27% to 3.257m.  As usual, Ryanair's Chief Executive had something to say: 'It's official. Ryanair has today become the world's favourite airline.  Last month, Ryanair's traffic exceeded BA's worldwide passengers across its entire network.'

Whilst the Beetle does not believe that just because Ryanair's figures exceed British Airways' Ryanair can take over British Airway's mantle of being the world's favourite airline.  This seems a little excessive given that Ryanair does not fly long haul, nor has anything like BA's coverage, provides next to no in-flight service and benefited in passenger volume particularly as a result of BA's strike fiasco during the month of August.  Ryanair's success was put down to growing passenger volumes due to Ryanair's guarantee of no fuel surcharges.  And not forgetting that Michael O'Leary likes to have the last word, he went on to say: 'At least on Ryanair, customers can buy a sandwich with the £100 they have saved over BA's high fares and that's why BA are now officially just second choice'.

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51 holiday makers, mostly Belgians but including five Britons and fifteen Germans, were told that their flight from Carcassone to Charleroi airport, Brussels airport had been cancelled due to bad weather and would not be replaced.  They were forced to hire a bus and drive 600 miles home after they were told that the next aircraft out of Carcassone would be in 10 days time.  The 51 passengers led by a Belgian window cleaner, clubbed together to rent a vehicle for €4,000 (£2,700) to drive home to Charleroi in Belgium. “They abandoned us there as if we were dogs,” said Gauthier Renders, the 28-year-old window cleaner from Brussels. “There were children there and even an old woman with a walking stick. They didn't even give us a glass of water.” He continued: “At the Ryanair desk they said there were no available flights for ten days. Everything was fully booked. They said that some of us could get home via Gerona in Spain but that was 200 miles away and there were only 15 places available.   They also said they wouldn't pay for us to get there. So I looked for a bus in the Yellow Pages and we were on the road by 9pm.” The bus company provided two drivers and after a 16-hour drive the coach arrived in Belgium, on Tuesday.

“That's a long trip and everyone was pretty frustrated when we got there. Ryanair said they would refund our return flight – half the price of the original ticket – but said that it would take three weeks for the money to arrive,” Mr Renders said. “They don't care about the bad publicity; they know they are a cheap airline and that people will use them again just because they are cheap. But not me: my wife and I will never fly Ryanair again.”