The Bali-bombing terrorist attack forced me into an incredibly tough, but surprisingly positive and spectacular adventure that took me around the world.

Unbelievably, I saw ‘the other side’ on two blindingly beautiful occasions. I’m not religious and I never will be, but, there really is a spectacular and lush ‘afterworld.’

*****

The Bali-bombers severed leg, lit by a soft starlight, dead in dust.

Shining my torch on this severed leg, in the middle of the night, in a foreign country, sparks a furious and confusing energy in my soul.

Angry with this ‘severed leg of stupidity’ the waves of life eventually sweep me onto the mysterious island of Java, the island where the Bali-bomber was born.

Emotionally fried, but still feeling an enormous power in my chest, I was the only ‘white guy’ living with thousands of Muslims in a seaside village for three and a half years.

With my heart and mind stretched in several directions, the only way to save my soul and cool my head was to follow the events, endlessly.