in

Snowing in Bali

What’s your take on Bali?
I really do love the place. It’s not some Eat, Pray, Love location, though – it’s layered. All the people who live there know that what you see isn’t what you get. There is this dark side; there are, of course, lovely resorts and restaurants, but it’s not a superficial paradise where it’s tranquil and nice and everyone’s really sanguine. For instance, there’s a part in the book where Alberto, one of the main guys in Snowing in Bali, buries cocaine under a sand dune in the middle of the day, when there are heaps of tourists around. And there’s an exchange of backpacks containing thousands of ecstasy pills that’s done amongst all the tourists – because that’s the cover. I’m sure most tourists are oblivious to this but it’s common.

How did you end up in Bali?
When I was a producer for 60 Minutes I worked on the first interview Schapelle Corby did. Then 60 Minutes did a follow-up on her sentence. I was then asked if I wanted to write her biography, so I quit the show and went to Bali to do that. As a result I spent a lot of time in Kerobokan Prison. I realised what a bizarre, berserk place it is, which then led to me writing Hotel Kerobokan. I’d met people who were involved in drugs and had this incredible access to these drug dealers in Bali, and Snowing in Bali is the result of that. Some of them had read Hotel Kerobokan and knew people in it and liked the book, but, most importantly, it proved I wasn’t an undercover cop, so it established trust with them. I actually think speaking to me was cathartic, as they never talk about this stuff.

You refer to Snowing in Bali as the third instalment in your Bali trilogy. How have your perceptions of Bali changed since the first book?
As I said, you scratch the surface of paradise and find a whole nother world. I’ve had amazing access to people who’ve given me a very vivid, personal insight into that world. Over the course of the three books I’ve spoken, at length, to hundreds of people – some of whom are the biggest drug dealers in the country. It took a little while for them to trust me but once they did they opened right up. The main thing I’ve learnt is that there really is a dark side to Bali.

Tell us about their world.
Well, I use a lot of direct quotes in the book because the world of drug dealers is so incredible and different to our every day lives that you don’t need to embellish or sensationalise. A lot of these guys are highly educated, intelligent, good-looking. I guess what I’m saying is that they could’ve done anything. One of them, Andre, his sisters are doctors, but this is his chosen career. Another one of the main people in the book, Rafael, often travels with €10,000 in one shoe, €10,000 in the other, €5,000 in each pocket, and €5,000 in his wallet. One time he was in Singapore and spotted a €25,000 Rolex he’d seen in a magazine, so he bought it with cash. Their stories are like that. I heard intimate accounts of orgies, too, and I actually left some of that out because it was just like, ‘Whoa!’

They sound just like any young, ambitious dude, except they work in an illicit industry.
Exactly. I was amazed to hear the lengths they go to when packing the drugs. For example, surfboard bags were quite hot and tended to get people busted, so Rafael pioneered the method of packing drugs into windsurf booms. Cocaine would be placed into a blender, to get it fine, then pounded into the booms. Three kilos could be packed into each boom, and you can take four booms per windsurfer. He actually flew to Peru to show the packers how to pack the booms. He threatened them not to share the method because someone else would copy it, do a shonky job, get busted, and then booms would attract heat.

You say in the Foreword that a lot of guys in Bali opt for a life of drugs. Why is that?
Bali drug dealers, a lot of them come to paradise as surfers chasing the perfect wave. Rafael went there to surf and opted for a life of drugs to pay for his lifestyle. Then it became his career. It seems a way to make fast, easy bucks, but, as Rafael says, “It’s not easy. Most people either end up in the hospital, the cemetery, or jail.” He kept saying that to me; they’re fully aware of the risks. I mean, one stuff up and they fall into the pits of hell, but if they can walk the tightrope they can live a life of money, girls, adrenalin. It’s a fantasy life, if you can pull it off.
Daniel Steiner

Only mules and horses

There are two types of drug carriers. Kathryn outlines the difference
Something that surprised me is the sort of people hired to do the runs. The bosses will hire people who have good jobs, are intelligent, multilingual, good-looking, wear nice clothes, are charismatic. These are the horses: a thoroughbred; someone who can be trained. The first time Andre would use someone when he was back in Brazil, he’d either take them to his place or put them up at a nice resort to give them a taste of the lifestyle and get their confidence up.
He read The Secret, actually, and he’d have the horse visualise what they wanted from this life. Then there are mules, who are naïve and uneducated and desperate. In short, mules are risky, while horses are less likely to get pulled up at customs. The big cartels will send 10 mules at a time, knowing some of them will bust, but it’s worth it because of the volume being sent. With horses, the focus would be on making each run work and “kicking a goal”, as they called it.

Snowing in Bali by Kathryn Bonella is out now through Pan Macmillan For more info: kathrynbonella.com

Bérénice Marlohe

Surviving the Apocalypse