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SNOWING IN BALI

Marco had been told it was only 15 kilometres from Sumbawa and he was starting to worry. Then finally, they saw lights.

As the old man dragged the boat onto the beach, several security guards and an Australian resort manager walked briskly across the sand towards them. Still wearing his Mexican hat, Marco asked if he could rent a cheap room. No, he couldn't. On this small nature reserve island, there was only one place to stay — the luxury five-star Amanwana Resort, comprising 20 stylish air-conditioned tents. This place was for A-list tourists who blew thousands of dollars a day on their ultra-posh holiday, flying in and out in private Cessna C-208 seaplanes.

The Australian manager told him the cheapest room was $800 a night. Marco knew exactly what he'd stumbled into. He'd stayed at one of Aman's three Bali resorts, paying about $1000 a night for a room.

Tonight he definitely couldn't afford it, but the manager offered him a bed for one night in an employees' bungalow beside the resort. Marco gave him his name — Mr John Miller — instantly cursing his mistake.

An hour later, he lay in a clean, comfortable bed, but couldn't sleep. He knew he shouldn't have used the name John Miller — police would know it by now. All night he fretted and by sunrise he was up, packed and standing on the beach with his bag at his feet, waiting for a fishing boat to pick him up. He'd booked it the night before with a local boy. Relief swept over him when he saw the boat in the distance and he waved. It was too late to run when he realised his mistake. The boat was full of police, all with guns pointed at him, twitching to shoot him if he made a move.

'So, Marco ... we caught you,' one of the police officers mocked, as he stood on the beach pointing a gun at his legs. 'I'm

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