"Before [the] bombings there were more Americans. Not so many anymore," said local Gede nodding toward where one of the explosions went off up the street. "Australia is close, so they come."
Today, just in front of the 2002 memorial, waves of tourists cross the busy street with beers in hand.
A shirtless Australian down the bar tells crude jokes loud enough to hear over the Eagles songs "Hotel California" and "Tequila Sunrise" that blast in the background.
Unfazed, local woman Nyoman stands behind the bar. "No problem for me because at home my husband also [wears] no shirt," she said, adding that there are times when tourist behavior is a problem.
"Sometimes they get drunk and think they pay, but they don't," she said. "They get drunk and angry."
Outside a tourist talks about exactly how drunk he was the night before, dissipating any air of magic on the Hindu island.
"The Balinese don't hang out here," said Gede referring to the night life on Jalan Raya Legian.
Nonetheless, the two worlds appear to co-exist, and even depend on each other. The Balinese rely on the economics of tourism, and the tourists, the need of the escapism Bali has to offer.
"Life in Bali is always related to 'Tri Hita Karana' or a tripartite concept that include[s] the spiritual relationship between human[s] and God, and their environment," reads the Bali Tourism Board Web site.
Small ceremonial offerings made of palm leaves are placed on the ground in front of stores and restaurants each day by the Balinese. They are later crushed by tourists who pass without noticing, grains of rice and flowers scattered across the sidewalk.
In a place famous for tourists kicking back and letting loose, the locals are tolerant and more reserved -- their smiles welcoming and nonjudgmental.
Partyers are left to enjoy the quiet beaches to recover and are served fresh fruit juices to rehydrate.
Many Balinese speak English and ask tourists the standard questions, "Where are you from? How long you stay? Are you married?"