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SLEEPING LIKE AN ANGEL

I have already 25 years of really dream life, I can choose where I want to go . . . Now I cannot fly, but before I fly – like I get bored in Bali, so I go to Koh Samui for one week; get bored, I go to Europe for a couple of days. And this life for me is really, really pleasure life. Every day is new things, new feelings, new adventures. I pray to my gods every day, help me another day, another adventure in Bali.

Cos every day for me is a new adventure. Why? Because I don’t know what’s happening. If some police stop me in the street and ask for my passport, maybe I need to run, maybe I need to pay, maybe . . .

You know what I mean – I don’t know what to expect in the next second. This is my day-by-day now. But this really really doesn’t make me sad, this excites me. I don’t know what new thing’s going to happen tomorrow. Maybe I am here, maybe I need to run away – every day is different feeling. I believe so much the life just flows away.

– Andre

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Although Rafael was out of the game, it hadn’t stopped snowing in Bali. The Island of the Gods was still full of rich expats and tourists wanting the buzz of intoxication – the parties on the beaches or in the five-star hotels kept going, but discretion had replaced blatant, arrogant indulgence.

As long as there was a thriving market, there would be those ready to gamble their lives for a fast buck. A European guy sold snow to expats; Barbara, the Botox-faced woman, kept coke hidden in a hollowed-out Bible, and people still called Rafael sometimes, asking for his help to sell their kilos. For a while, there’d been a scarcity, but now it was snowing in Bali,

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