7:13 p.m. — My partner insists on walking 30 minutes to a restaurant on the other side of the island. Together we hobble and limp past sad, empty beach clubs (it's high season in Bali, which makes them even more sad). An hour later, we make it to this cute rooftop restaurant. Somehow we both order different versions of a dry, salty pesto pasta dish. We spend much of dinner laughing and taking ridiculous photos of our "gourmet" dishes, pretending we're in food-blogger mode. I try to pay for dinner but realize I'm out of cash — oh no, how have I become so forgetful?! I find a few small bills floating around my purse after the owner tells us the only ATM is on another island, ha! We happily agree that we'll come back in the morning to pay the rest of the bill, because it's a tiny island and I'm sure it's easy for him to hunt us down if we truly dined-and-dashed. $5.02