Australia - Southwest and Melbourne
After Exmouth we tried one last time in Coral Bay and this time they had a vacancy on one of the campsites. Coral Bay only has two campsites, a few hotels and hardly any houses. It’s sounds rather touristy but because of its size it’s a very cosy place at a beautiful bay where you practically have the beach to yourself. Snorkelling in the bay was wonderful and during a morning walk on the beach we got another close encounter with a dolphin that was on a hunt for fish. Best place to do so looking at the abundance of fish in the bay. It was filled with huge white snappers that were being fed every afternoon. Sara wanted to pet them but since they’re called snappers for a reason we managed to stop her from doing so just in time. Just like the feeding of the dolphins in Monkey Mia a bit of a doubtful activity to attract tourists. In Coral Bay we also met John and Doreen again, the couple we swapped campsites with back in Exmouth. You would think that people at their age would live their lives one day at the time not doing much, but the contrary happened to be true. Their day existed of all sorts of daily routines like going to the supermarket, sight seeing, dish washing etc., all done at set times. They also had a daily ‘free hour’ which they used for calling their (grand)children. They were a wonderful couple that connected with Sara from day one, despite the language barrier. For a few days they were like grandpa and grandma to her, something she enjoyed as much as they did. They were the main reason why we stayed in coral Bay for four whole days. After that, it was really time for us to leave and head south.
I don’t know if it was because of the cds we burned or because our white stallion smelled his stable, but the same road back to Perth went amazingly fast. And as for the saying we have in the Netherlands that’s you’ll never get rid of a white coloured vehicle, the opposite must be true Down Under. Every second car is white and every third a Toyota Landcruiser, varying in type and size. Our planned itinerary to drive back to Perth via Kalgoorlie and Esperance was too long, so we decided to drive straight to Perth and visit the Janssens. Vianne and Peter sold their house in Maastricht a while ago, shipped all their belongings in a big container and immigrated with their daughter Bibiche, son Pjotr and poodle Kanuche to Perth. Definitely not the closest place in the world to move to. To not change too much, they decided to live in the Subiaco area, which is just like the area in Maastricht they used to live in, according to Peter. It was great to be speaking your own language with others again and to enjoy the same kind of humour. Sara went mad over the huge amount of toys the kids had and we were pampered big time while enjoying early spring sun. We stayed for lunch and dinner and agreed to come back a week later, after visiting the Southwest first.
From Perth we drove to Albany on the Southwest coast in one go. The scenery was very different again from what we had seen so far; huge forests followed by green land and loads of sheep. It was cold in Albany but the beautiful coastal roads and the savage sea made up for the lack of sun and warmth. Sara had long spotted the playground before we did and was unstoppable after a full day in the van. Because it was dark early and too cold to sit outside we were in bed at 20h00. We watched one of Peter’s DVDs and snuggled up underneath our sleeping bags with the sound of the rough sea in the background. The only thing missing was a fireplace to complete the idyllic setting. The next day we had our first rain in months at our next stop in Denmark. But, after 4012 km of driving through Roo Country we also saw our first kangaroo, alive and kicking! Denmark is a small and relaxed place surrounded by forest and has an impressive and rocky coastline, so beautiful you can’t stop taking pictures of it. There will be few people in the world that would associate the huge amount of sheep with a pair of shoes, but Brigitte saw a pair of Uggs in each one of them. So we took a small gravel road to the Jassi family, who had their own handmade ugg business, using the skin and wool of their own cattle. Unfortunately no pair of Brigitte’s like in her size, but we did buy a pair of uggs for Sara, for the cold days ahead of us.
On our way from Denmark to Margaret River we stopped at the Walpole Tree Top Walk. An ancient forest with trees that only grow in this area, some of which over 400 years old. Brigitte’s vertigo was tested big time with a walking path that went as high as 40m, especially when the walking bridge started wobbling because of the wind. She looked straight ahead and fastened her way to the exit. Sara thought it was extremely exciting. It is a strange experience to stand in the top of a tree while a parrot is eating his lunch right next to you.
The area around Margaret River is known for its vineyards and the scenery looks a bit like the Vogues in France. We camped at a farm and since it was low season we could even pick our own spot. They had a few donkeys, horses, and cows and Sara was allowed to help the farmer feeding them. One of the donkeys had bad eyes and must have thought her finger was a nice piece of straw. Her screaming was so loud that people were coming out of their vans to check what happened. With everybody comforting her and with help of an ice cream the pain was gone quickly. Fortunately the donkey realised in time he wasn’t a carnivore after all. After a beautiful drive through the winery area we pulled over at one of the bigger vineyards, Howard Park. We were the only visitors and while Sara was playing in the kids corner, we could taste all wines one by one, especially the ones that weren’t for sale in shops. We bought a few bottles of Sauvignon Blanc as a thank you gift for our hosts in Fremantle and Perth and then unfortunately we had to leave. It was getting dark quickly and I didn’t feel like hitting a kangaroo while under influence.
We needed to hand in our campervan in Perth spick and span and we decided to stay one more night at Gerard’s so we’d have enough time to give our temporary home a good wash. It’s was great seeing Gerard again and he had really made huge progression on the renovation of the house. The toilet and shower were temporarily in the garden but this of course wasn’t a problem at all, especially with thought of a real and soft bed in mind. Astrid made lasagne for everybody and Larry was still recovering from his first working days as an Australian Mail postie. The women in the kitchen, the kids playing and the guys talking about the latest developments in Aussie Rules football league with Larry’s mum (who owns a season card for the Fremantle Dockers for decennia already) while enjoying a cold beer in the evening sun. Very old fashioned but great. The Janssens invited us last minute to stay at their place the last night, before leaving to Melbourne. As we don’t like to be late we arrived inconveniently too early, just like the week before and Peter opened the door wearing nothing but his shorts. They were just about to go to bed for a siesta after the champagne they drank to celebrate Peter’s new job. It was party time and the first beers were out before we knew. For the people that know Peter, he wanted to know what the plans were so he could already program his car navigator. By the way, while on our way back from the campervan depot, he was constantly arguing and ignoring the commands of the nice female voice so I wonder if he wouldn’t be better off with an old fashioned roadmap and some common sense. In the end we didn’t go anywhere and after a great dinner and a few bottles of wine we rolled into our bed; a huge aero bed that Peter inflated in a McGyverish way by using a hairdryer and a plastic bottle, fortunately at the beginning of the evening when we were all still sober. With a bit of a hangover we got into the spacious Kia Cathedral for some Perth sight seeing. Park, museum, shops, lunch in a bar next to some heavy drinking construction workers on a lunch break and as a perfect ending some champagne near the water with views to the skyline of Perth. A beautiful day. We can definitely recommend this warm welcome and royal treatment to friends and family of the Janssens, so book a flight and go visit them. Saying goodbye was quite difficult but Melbourne was waiting. We booked an evening flight with Jetstar, the cheap sister of Qantas and were treated to the worst landing so far hopping on the landing strip like Skippy the bush kangaroo before coming to a stop. Fortunately, Sara went straight back to sleep when she finally got to bed late that night.
Melbourne was a lot colder than Perth and very windy. They say the weather can be so unpredictable that it’s possible to get four seasons in one day. Quite a challenging job for the weather man probably. Our hotel was at walking distance from the centre and was a so called “flashpackers” hotel, a new and more luxurious formula in backpacker-world for those backpackers who have a bit more money to spend. We were the only family in the hotel and when eating our free evening meal at the in house bar we felt a bit like parents on a high school party. To ease the pain a very young girl invited us to join the Jäger Train (shots of Jägermeister and Red bull in a row to drink in one go) but when Sara appeared from behind the sofa the girl realised the uselessness of her invitation. Sarah was staying with her sister who lived in the suburbs of Melbourne and we met her and boyfriend Timmo down town. Our Sara was very happy to see them again and since the sun was shining bright we took the tram to St Kilda at the beach. In the evening it was time to enjoy Brigitte’s goodbye gift from her colleagues; dinner at Vibe on Smith in Fitzroy, a trendy area of Melbourne. We got the full VIP treatment of Tony the owner, who welcomed us by our first names as we walked in. The food was great, the wine even better. As a desert Sara got a piece of chocolate cake so big that it could feed an entire family for two days. She attacked and was unstoppable but there was no way she could win this savoury battle, victory was on chocolate’s side in the end.
The next day we wandered along the Yarra riverside with Sarah and Timmo. The city was preparing itself for the apotheosis in Aussie rules football, the grand final on the 27th of September. The weekend we were there the semis were played in the MCG, the Melbourne Cricket Ground, also called the “G” amongst locals. What Wembley is for European football fans is the “G” for sport fans in Australia. Unfortunately, I couldn’t convince anyone to go to a game. In the afternoon we went for some drinks in Fitzroy at Little Creatures, the tasty beer brewed in Fremantle which I tried for the first time with Larry. It was an old factory, serving 5 different beers from one brand and some easy to prepare appetizers and meals. It was filled with worn off chairs and tables, lacking any kind of decoration except the industrial features that were already there. The place was packed every single day since opening six weeks before. How simple can success be? For Brigitte Melbourne was “shopping heaven” on earth or actually “shopping hell” since we were on a budget. Bravely she forced herself not to buy anything even though various shops were visited. Therefore it wasn’t a really difficult decision when she had to choose between renting a car and drive the Great Ocean Road for two days or spending two more days in shopping hell. The Great Ocean Road has been competing forever with the Highway 1 in California over being the most beautiful in the world. Since I already drove the impressive way from San Francisco to LA I was very curious about its rival. In the end Sarah and Timmo also joined and we could even take the car of Sarah’s sister. So all four of us, plus kid, plus luggage squeezed ourselves in to a brand-new Suzuki Swift, which was surprisingly spacious on the inside. The Great Ocean Road officially goes from Torquay near Geelong to Allansford near Warnambool and is about 375 km long. We took the inland highway to the start of the road near Warnambool and we would stay overnight so the next day we’d have enough time to drive the Great Ocean Road and make all necessary stops on our way back. Sarah had already driven the Great Ocean Road once before, so she allowed me to drive. What a fantastic drive it was! One highlight after the other, with an absolute winner at the lookout of the Twelve Apostles, originally twelve separate rocks in the wild sea shore. Our camera had difficulty coping with the amount of pictures we took. The ongoing storm made the views and sight even more dramatic. Sara was almost blown away by the wind that according to the weatherman got up to speeds of 100 km per hour.
After a long day in the car our evening flight to Cairns with Virgin Blue was heavily delayed. Time for the marketing department to adjust their slogan “the airline that’s never late”. Finally, the Boeing set off for the tropics at 22h30.
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Australia - Perth to Exmouth
Finally, Australia. First back to Singapore then forward to Perth where our flight landed around midnight. Even though we had to pass customs and security we were outside in the cold after just half an hour. The temperature was at least ten degrees lower than Bali. For the first night we booked the family room of a backpacker’s hotel, with 3 bunk beds. Sara was still full of energy and even though it was the middle of the night we found ourselves drawing Philippes and Caroles at 0130 in the morning, Sara’s obsession from Thailand that keeps hunting us. The next day we contacted Larry who arranged for us to stay at his brother’s house, Gerard, for a few days. We took the train to Fremantle, or Freo as it’s called by the Aussies, where Larry picked us up at the station. Big sports fan as Larry is he had his car radio on the sports channel, his TV at home broadcasting the Olympics on Channel 7 and his laptop turned on non-stop for the less important sports. He had offered us to stay at his brother Gerard’s house whom we’d also met back in Tioman without asking him. A man of few words but very hospitable. He made his living renovating and building houses and selling them with profit. Fremantle was a nice place to stay, and although the sun was shining during the day, nights would get very chilly. Since we only had summer clothing with us we used the money we saved on accommodation to buy some warm clothes. Sara played with the toys of Larry’s kids or cuddled Zebra, Gerard’s dog, and walked around the house as if she owned the place. Meanwhile Brigitte and I were in doubt on what to do with our travel itinerary. Our original idea to drive from Perth to Sydney was not recommended because of the temperature this time of year. The route itself would be quite boring as well. After lots of hours of surfing internet at Gerard’s we finally decided on Saturday afternoon: with a campervan from Perth to Exmouth than back down to the South of Perth, flying to Melbourne to eventually fly to Cairns for another campervan adventure to Sydney. This way we would see a diverse and substantial part of Australia.
Meanwhile Larry invited me for an Aussie rules football game, the derby between East-Fremantle Sharks and South-Fremantle. Their level is comparable to the highest amateur level of football in the Netherlands. We arrived at the oval stadium between first and second quarter and walked straight onto the pitch to listen in on the tactics of the Sharks’ coach. At the start of the second quarter we ended up at the ‘Shark-pit’, the part where the diehards cheered for their club. Not a cage filled with aggressive hooligans, but a bar with men in their forties who would unintentionally push each other away with their impressive beer bellies. It looked more like a nice afternoon with the lads than a serious game of sports. Still I was witnessing a rather historical moment since the last time the Sharks won was at the end of last century. Long after the game had finished, Larry’s life-long friend Stocky joined and pitchers with beer were next. I don’t know if it was because of all stories about their childhood or the beer but the schoolboy came out in Larry and he refused to go home after the final whistle. Not walking fully straight anymore we went looking for a bar and our craving for a beer was so big that nothing was off limits anymore, not even the East Fremantle Bowls Club. For the ones that don’t know what this is, it’s a game mainly played by very old people, dressed in white who try to roll oval balls as close as possible to a small ball on perfectly maintained lanes of grass. The British equivalent of ‘petanque’ but then a lot duller. You can imagine the resentment when 3 loud blokes including myself, wearing a Sharks cap entered the Club house and walked straight to the bar. The man with the whitest hair of all, apparently the chairman, took a deep breath and asked the one question to which we already knew the answer as slow as he could: “Are you boys members of this establishment?”. Hilarious!
Our home for the next 3 weeks was a brand new Toyota campervan and after the mandatory instructions we went to the nearest supermarket after which we made our first campsite stop in Lancelin. The campsite was situated right behind the dunes and the Indian Ocean and after yet another amazing sunset we went to bed early. The next planned stop, Kalbarri was a 500km drive. Driving in Australia is something different. We were lucky that the wildflower season just started so the highway views were colourful instead of dry and grey. The road kill was impressive. We counted dozens of dead kangaroos who were mainly hit in the early morning or late afternoon when most active. So far we haven’t seen one alive yet unfortunately. After driving for a few hours you can actually dream about the few traffic signs you see: stray animals, floodway, grid, floodway, grid, etc. You get excited when entering a curve, because it’s something different to do while driving, but the moments were the monotony is truly broken are the fuel station stops at the road houses. Born in a tiny, overcrowded, slightly cramped country it’s amazing to cross this vastness of nothing. Our destination was situated between coast and National Park and turned out to be a beautiful place. Where we thought winter would be low-season, it turned to be high-season meaning that it was very busy on all campsites. We obviously didn’t consider the ‘grey-nomads’. These are pensioners that have paid their mortgage and that leave their cold homes behind to travel through Australia for a few months a year. They are fully equipped from generators to satellites and form one queue travelling from South to North and than back again, strictly adhering to the butter test (according to Larry they take a package of butter with them, when butter is too hard they go northbound, if the butter is too soft they head south again). In the evenings they all gather, fully equipped again, at the free campsite bbq’s, where the men grill the meat holding a beer in one hand and a fork in the other and women discuss the weather and the itinerary of the day. A bit hesitant at first, we decided to join a bbq one evening. It turned out to be a great night. They were all grandparents missing their grandchildren, a void that was filled with Sara presence. It’s a shame she doesn’t speak English, if not we would have had a campsite filled with babysitters.
The Kalbarri coast was ideal for cycling. Sara sat in a bike seat at the back and loved it. The coast was filled with deserted bays, shell beaches and the waves so high that only few surfers dared to enter the cold sea. From Kalbarri we drove to Denham, a small but sleepy town that only served as a stopover for visiting Monkey Mia, 25 kilometres further ahead. Monkey Mia is a protected national marine park where dolphins swim to the shores in the morning to be fed under professional supervision and of course in presence of many tourists. There was only one campsite at Monkey Mia but it was fully booked for the month of August. We had to leave Denham at 0700 in the morning to make it in time for the first feeding of the dolphins, so no use knowing our morning schedule. We took it easy and went to Monkey Mia around noon and rented a sea kayak. We took a few beers and some bread rolls with us and peddled to a deserted beach. If the rhythm of our kayak would equal the success of our marriage, we’d have to file for divorce immediately. We went from left to right and splashed at each other without noticing. Sara loved it and even fell asleep on the kayak, a nap she finished at the beach. While I was chatting to the relaxed guy that rented out the kayak over a game of frisbee a curious dolphin suddenly popped up right next to us in the water. Apparently it was quite unusual for them to show up in the afternoon so there was practically nobody left at the beach. Brigitte followed the dolphin along the shore until it took off and swam back into the big blue. So, at the end we did get our private encounter with the dolphin.
Our first wedding anniversary came closer and we didn’t want to celebrate it in dull Denham. We took our campervan and drove to Coral Bay, a hefty 550 km but according to many absolutely worth it. After a long drive through a whole lot of nothing but flatness and every now and than a termite hill we arrived at Coral Bay. There were only 2 campsites, both fully booked and a few ugly hotels. Back into the campervan to drive another 150 km before reaching Exmouth. After more than 700km and 8 hours in the van it was time to pull the plastic credit and we decided to check in at the only nice hotel in the area, the Novotel Ningaloo Resort. Our long day and patience was rewarded with a beautiful hotel room and a delicious dinner. We ordered a second Australian pinot noir bottle at the restaurant and went back to our room. It turned out to be a wonderful evening in the end.
Exmouth used to be part of a former American marine base, communicating with submarines in the Pacific. The bizarre landscape in the dunes covered with antennas is nowadays still used by the Australian marine. Apart from this, it’s in the middle of nowhere, 150km away from civilisation. What makes Exmouth so very special is its situation next to the Cape Range National Park and the Ningaloo Reef. The sea is beautiful and very clear and you can discover the reef snorkelling, straight from the beach. We were a bit late for the whale shark season, but did see a few humpback whales just behind the reef. We thought about going on a boat trip to see them up close and personal but we wanted to save the money for a sailing trip on the Whitsundays at the East coast. We made a stop at the visitors’ centre of the Cape Range park first. These stops are always a delight for Sara since there always a kids corner somewhere for her to play. We hired some snorkelling gear and went to Turquoise Bay. You can guess the beauty of the bay by its name already. The water wasn’t cold and after hundreds of tropical fishes and small rays I suddenly saw two black eyes from underneath a flat piece of coral following me. I stopped to see what kind of fish it was and at that moment he came out to introduce himself: a young but midsize white tip reef shark. After checking me out, he went back to his coral shack and disappeared. A little bit shaky I quickly found my way back to the beach. Meanwhile Sara discovered the jelly fish that were lying on the beach. Before we knew she came running to us, holding a jellyfish in her hands: “Look, jelly!”. Fortunately, these ones weren’t harmful and just looked like dumped silicon boobs. The beauty of idyllic spots like these is that they are never crowded, since most grey nomads stay on the campsites. Furthermore, there aren’t that many places to stay overnight and it’s too far away from civilisation for a daytrip. On our way back we had to make an emergency stop for an emu with youngsters, who picked the road for some afternoon sunbathing. A special place this was indeed.
Our plan is to drive all the way to the Southern coast to Denmark in a few days to eventually drive back up to Perth. It’s still quite chilly down South (15-20 degrees during the day) but the scenery is supposed to be very different and beautiful. After that, we’ll fly to Melbourne for a five day visit where we’ll hopefully meet Sarah again and also an ex-colleague (Rachel Curran). We also look forward to Brigitte’s goodbye gift: dinner in Vibe on Smith.
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Bali - North to West
After a few nights with mice, rats and other unwanted guests in Villa Ratu Ayu it was time for Brigitte to move. Lovina on the Northern coast wasn’t far. It’s one of the most popular resorts of Bali. Driving there also meant driving through Singaraja, Bali’s second biggest city, but fortunately it all went very smooth. You get used to the different way of driving very quickly and the mutual respect amongst drivers results in very few accidents. The chances you get RSI from horning is a lot bigger though, but as explained, it’s a necessary evil; if you do not horn you’re a nobody on the road. Lovina cannot be compared to the Kuta area. There are lots of hotels and home stays along the black sand beach and behind the main road you find the compounds where the locals live. We checked out a few home stays and hotels in Banyualit. We finally decided to check out the Melka Resort which had a nice and small entrance in a back alley not far from the sea. All of a sudden we found ourselves in the middle of kids’ paradise; a resort with a complete zoo, swimming pool number 1, swimming pool number 2 with four dolphins in it (!), a playground and a kids club. Negotiated a reasonable price for 2 nights and Sara was off to see the dolphins. The dolphins were mainly used for sonar therapy with handicapped, autistic and Down syndrome children but it was also possible for others to have a swim with them, one of Brigitte’s biggest wishes. In the end we decided to not do it here, but to wait for Australia or New Zealand and swim with dolphins in the wild.
We had a bit of mixed feelings about the rest of the zoo. It was actually quite sad. Jerry the monkey who had his own show, cockatoo Joe who was going silently mental in his cage. Sara loved the fact she could get so close to the animals and she went for a stroll every morning through the zoo. Almost immediately at arrival we met Made ([Ma-day]), who called himself ‘Roy’ for tourists since almost everybody is called Made in Bali. Just like everywhere else in Bali, you are a tourist thus target for everyone that has got something to sell. And so Made sold us a ‘must see’ when it comes to Lovina: a boat trip to the dolphins. At 06h00 in the morning we found ourselves sitting in a junkung, a long and narrow boat with drifters made of bamboo on each side to keep it balanced and to keep it from sinking. What we experienced next was like theatre and we couldn’t help but to laugh. Imagine over a hundred boats in the sea, all with over-excited tourists who are all completely focussed on the water and will not take their eyes off for one second, looking for that one fin, that one dolphin. As soon as one spotted a dolphin all boats went the same way. As a result of course the poor animals were far gone by the time the boats got there. Our sailor had a different approach; he waited on one spot and was convinced the dolphins would eventually come to our boat instead of the other way around. And just when we thought we would end up like the Canadian back at the hotel that had gotten his family out of bed at 0600 in the morning for three consecutive days already without seeing one single dolphin, dozens of dolphins showed up right next to our boat. Sara had a hard time equalling the screaming of our Japanese companion, who ecstatically took as many pictures as her camera could handle. The nicest part of the boat though was the sunrise that would reveal the colours of the mountains slowly.
We saw Made regularly and one day he invited us for dinner at his place. We would pay for the fish and his wife would prepare it for us and the rest of his family. We knew we paid more than the actual price of the fish but we had seen so much poverty around us already that this looked like a good way to contribute a little instead of just giving it away. Made had three children and lived with his wife and parents in a small house with a patio at the back. The living room was furnished with a TV and a floor mat to sit on. When it rained the house would flood because of the leaking roof. School fees where not that high, but simple things like a school uniform and books made the financial threshold too high to get proper education. Despite his handicapped leg as a result of polio at a very young age, Made had to support his own family, his sister’s family and his parents. Still he thanked the Gods every day for his life and the heavy but important task he had to fulfil. The fish was wonderful and the kids were playing with Sara’s toys. She amused herself with their pet chicken by taking it out of the cage, cuddling it and then putting it back. A very hospitable welcome and despite the language barrier (Brigitte doesn’t speak Indonesian) we had a wonderful evening. Back at the hotel Brigitte and I were uncomfortably silent and were fighting the tears. The real Bali life away from all hotels and resorts was tough and like Made there were so many others. How come their lives aren’t improving while tourism peaks year after year and brings more money than ever? Probably because the money stays within the resorts; the average tourist books an all inclusive holiday and a few day-trips organised by their resort itself with the end result that only few benefit from it. Something we don’t understand since Bali is a perfect island for self-exploring and travelling around away from mass-tourism. Saying goodbye to Made was very difficult but we took his address and decided to do something for him and his family back in the Netherlands, especially for his kids.
Leaving Lovina behind we decided to go back to the mountains. We drove a curvy but scenic road to our destination: Penelokan at the Gunung Batur. Of course we drove the wrong way a few times since the road signs were of magnificent clarity as usual. One of the roads was so steep that our jeep had lots of difficulty, even in first gear, to get to the top. When we got there it was a dead end road. Immediately we were surrounded by curious local kids and when Sara got out of the car they were amazed by the colour of her hair and all them were touching it to see if it was real. We eventually got to Penelokan and checked in at the Lakeview Hotel. The hotel was at the crater rim of the Gunung Batur volcano, still active today. The crater is filled with water and has formed the largest lake in Bali. The view from our balcony was breathtaking. During the day Penelokan was overloaded with day trip buses full of tourist. They would get out of the bus, take the obligatory picture of the volcano and lake to finally all at once enter the same restaurant where they enjoyed an overpriced buffet lunch. The result was that an army of locals selling souvenirs gathered at the stairs of the restaurant day after day. After 17h00 the buses were gone and the place was absolutely dead quiet. This became more than clear when we had dinner at Windu Sara restaurant. It was a bit awkward to be the only guests in a huge restaurant where we were outnumbered by the staff. We did get pampered though. Back at the hotel we got a call from the hotel’s restaurant to check if we would still come for dinner, if not they could close early that evening. The staff at the restaurant of the hotel was extremely slow anyway, preferring laziness over tiredness. The spelling error on the breakfast voucher turned out to be pretty accurate if you wanted to get something to eat (see picture). You could go on a guided hiking trip at 04h00 from the hotel to the top of the volcano for a stunning sunrise. With a back carrier we would definitely have done it, impossible to carry Sara on our arms or neck. Instead of the trip we got up at 05h00 and sat in our first row seats on our balcony admiring the sunrise.
The eastern part of Bali was next to be discovered and we set out a road trip via the rice fields and the Waterpalace of Tirtagangga to Amed on the coast. The road from Sidemen to Iseh is generally seen as the most impressive road through the rice paddies. Farmers were preparing the ‘sawahs’ with their ox for new seeding, physically very demanding work. Sara ran over the little paths of the rice paddies and all of a sudden found herself in the mud, knee-high. She just wanted to ‘help the cows’. One of the farmers pulled her out of the mud and all the others were visibly amused by her little accident. We made a stop for lunch at the Waterpalace of Tirtagangga. We remembered this place from RTL travel on TV when it looked really impressive. There was a hotel inside the Waterpalace and we wanted to stay overnight but unfortunately it was fully booked. Not that unfortunate we found later as the place was quite disappointing and lacked the mystic atmosphere that was so vividly described on TV.
In Amed we were confronted with the July/August high season for the first time. Amed is the start of a long row of hotels down the East coast of which Lipah is the only place with a decent beach. After driving for nearly two hours and getting a ‘sorry we’re full’ answer at all places we ended up at Made, who owned four small bungalows. According to him three quarters of the tourists were French and that was noticeable when it came to the names of many hotels and restaurants in the area, some of which didn’t even bother to translate their French menu. The beach at the back of the bungalow was rocky but it had a nice little pool. Made had an eight-year-old daughter called Medi who would be Sara’s ‘big sister’ for the days to come. Sara really enjoyed playing with her and she copied everything Medi did. She would follow her into the kitchen to get something to eat or to drink and she ate bowls full of rice in salted water, Medi’s daily lunch. It was great to see how much fun they had together despite the language barrier. Made also enjoyed it and he was very conscience of the fact that if Sara was happy we were happy too. We spent an evening eating and drinking with Gualter from Portugal and Caroline from Canada who lived together in Quebec and had seen a lot of the world already. Gualter was a music teacher for little kids and Sara was intrigued and attracted to his funny ways and faces. Amed itself was very quiet and besides snorkelling and diving in the beautiful and clear waters there was not much to do. After two days we wanted to move on and went to Padang Bai on the Southeast coast. This place used to be nothing but a harbour for ferries heading towards Lombok but nowadays it’s also a beach resort. Tiny and with a very relaxed atmosphere. In Padang Bai we would also meet Sarah again who met up with her boyfriend in Malaysia to travel to Bali together. Timmo was from Finland and had been travelling through Asia for over nine months on a daily budget less than what we would normally spend on lunch. Seemed difficult to us to travel like that, if you have to worry about every cent you spend and can’t afford to enjoy a treat every now and then. He couldn’t help but to feel a bit ‘budget-horrified’ when during our last night in Padang we discovered Hatten Balinese rose. A local wine far less expensive than other wines from the more established wine countries. Just like for Sarah, it was the first wine for us in months and our small reunion was a good excuse to open a bottle. Everyone was in a good mood and it seemed to increase when Sarah and Brigitte preferred another bottle of wine over something to eat. Our little Sara amused herself with all the toys available in the bar. When all of a sudden the gamelan music sounded a bit too groovy we found out that it was actually Sara who was playing. She took over the sticks from the old man, who loved every second of her musical intermezzo. After a package of kretek cigarettes and four bottles of wine the conversations were less and less serious and bad jokes and giggles were taking over. Timmo had long gone to bed already and Sarah and Brigitte were reading children’s fairytales to each other in French. Time to go. Just like at Koh Phangan it was great seeing each other again, although we missed Vanessa of course. We agreed to try and meet each other in Melbourne, where Sarah would go next to visit her sister.
We had to bring back our rental vehicle and after one more night in Ubud we decided to go to Sanur for two more nights before flying to Australia. For our last night in Bali we decided to treat ourselves to something special and booked a luxurious suite at the Puri Griya Santrian hotel. Absolute pampering in paradise.
Leaving Bali was as hectic as arriving and Bali wouldn’t be Bali if you didn’t have to pay (again) for leaving the country. The winner of all money schemes were the ‘duty free’ shops at the airport who would ask ridiculous prices for things that you could buy all over Bali for a quarter of the price. We wanted to buy some kretek cigarettes but the seller had erased the official price (which would could dream by that time) and tripled it without even blinking his eyes. With regards to that we were happy to leave Asia and especially Bali. We looked forward to Australia for some ‘priceless’ friendliness. Despite that, our trip through Bali was absolutely fantastic and one of our highlights so far. Beautiful weather, amazing scenery and great for self-exploring. Absolutely recommendable.
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Bali - South to North
Because we flew with Air Asia from Phuket to Singapore and our flight to Bali would be with Singapore Airlines, a transit was not an option. We had to go from Terminal 1, through customs, to then go to Terminal 2 for check in again to catch our flight to Bali. There are worst places in the world to kill time than Changi Airport. Lots of audiovisuals and virtual games for kids. While Brigitte went shopping, Sara and I played a few games of virtual football. The floor was the field and a beamer projected the ball on the floor. I must admit I enjoyed it a lot myself but as a good father should, I let my daughter win the game. This immediately changed when a Japanese teenager challenged us. Before I knew I was sweating and by marking a lazy goal ala Gerd Muller I could just finish the game to our advantage. Sara loved it.
We would arrive late in the evening so we booked a hotel in advance. As an extra service they picked us up at the Ngurah Rai airport near Denpasar. When the sliding doors of the arrival hall opened there were at least 80 men shouting, all with name tags. We had no other option than to patiently walk by each one of them, reading all name tags until finding “Giezenaar”. For a split second I wondered what would happen if you would be Mr Wanderlee, going to Le Meridien Nirvana Resort. A which point would it all come out?
The Puri Dewa Bharata was a nice place to stay near Seminyak. Our room was inside a Balinese house with a huge veranda and bathroom. The beach was wide and fully occupied by Australians who tried to conquer the enormous waves. Larry warned us for this back in Tioman: “the South of Bali is not the best for Aussies, too many, too rough, too loud and too drunk and that’s just the women”. The second and last evening we went to Jimbaran, a beautiful beach located south of the airport. A bit of a tourist trap with dinning tables set out on the beach, perfect for a romantic evening. The sunset was stunning, the grilled fish delicious and Sara was having a ball playing in the sand. So Jimbaran is recommended for a romantic dinner, even for couples with children.
We wanted to leave Seminyak rather sooner than later. Actually, we wanted to leave this entire Southern part of the island of which Kuta is the centre and see the real Bali. We started talking to Putru in the lobby of the hotel. A taxi driver that had a daughter of the same age as Sara. Putru was willing to drive us to Ubud and to check out a few accommodations there with us. We ended up in the centre of Ubud at Sania’s House, a small compound with a few bungalows. These kinds of accommodation are also called home stays because the owner lives on the property with his family as well. Nice houses and even a small pool although a bit cramped and lacking privacy seen the amount of bungalows built on the relatively small piece of land. Ubud is a town North of Denpasar, once the artistic centre of Bali under guidance of a German, Walter Spies. Nowadays it’s still the creative centre but with a far more commercialised taste to it. One of the most remarkable examples is how a Balinese man spends his days “working” in Ubud. They all sit on a wall, looking slightly bored and shout the word “taxi” or “transport” to every single tourist that passes by. This happens every 10 meters when walking through town centre. Still it’s a nice place to hang out and there is enough to see and do, also with Sara. A visit to “Monkey Forest” was obviously a must.
The monkeys are the original inhabitants of this holy forest, also home of a few temples, but they are very used to the hurdles of tourist visiting every day, indulging them with bananas. Some of them wouldn’t even look at a banana anymore, let alone eat it. Fortunately Sara kept a respectable distance but you could see from her face she was enjoying the company of all monkeys surrounding her. Two English newly weds caused some strange looks on the faces of locals when they wanted to enter the forest in wedding gown and suit for the obligatory “just married” pictures. We don’t know if they managed to keep the curious monkeys at distance. Ubud town centre is surrounded by rice fields. A ten minute walk rewards you with an oasis of peace and quietness. We couldn’t walk the entire rice filed route of two and a half hours with Sara, so we only did the first part. Beautiful green rice fields with such wide views you could see the Balinese mountains. Picture perfect scenery.
Brigitte decided to do a Balinese massage course in Ubud. After 3 days she would be able to give a full body massage. The thought of all the massages I would be getting during the rest of the trip made the money more than worth it and of course I volunteered as guinea pig. Ketut had golden hands and Brigitte had to follow her instructions and practise them on one of Ketut’s other students. Balinese massage has a relaxing and healing nature and the people are convinced that you live longer if you take at least one massage per week. The way it feels right now, I’ll be a 100 easily.
We had discovered nicer and cheaper accommodation elsewhere in Ubud so we cancelled our last night at Sania and moved to Donald home stay, one alley further. A lovely woman who had four bungalows in her back garden. We couldn’t really figure out the name of the place, but after waking up at 5 in the morning we knew where it came from right away. It was Old McDonald’s farm! The rooster with his chicks decided to treat us to a private concert on our balcony. To make things even better, or worse, he got immediate reaction of all other pigs, birds and roosters in the neighbourhood. There we were sitting wide awake on our balcony at 5:30 in the morning, having a very early breakfast.
>Next day we rented a car, barely big enough for the 3 of us and our luggage. “Drive defensively” we were told and the ride out of Ubud town centre was a nice start. Our first goal was Wongayagede, start of the Gunung Batukau mountain in West Bali. The road to our destiny was a true map readers’ quest, since all roads go from South to North and we were driving from East to West. Add hundreds of scooters, impatient tourist busses, bikes and every now and than horse and wagon and you’ll understand that you need eyes at the back of your head. Lots of horning, don’t forget, otherwise you’re a nobody. We made it alive to Wongayagede and checked out the Prana Dewi. A stunning place in the middle of the rice fields, with isolated bungalows and views to the Gunung Batukau. At least, we assumed since it was so misty we couldn’t see a thing. Sara immediately ran through the small paths of the rice field, follow by the dogs of the accommodation. The serenity and peacefulness of the place was somewhat disturbed by her cheerful screaming and shouting, not to the delight of all guests. One of them gave us and her a mean irritated look, since Sara kept her from reading her yoga book and drinking her herbal tea. As a start for a hiking trip to the mountain a beautiful place, but the forced silence just didn’t do it for us. We decided to have lunch, but not to stay overnight. All ingredients they used on their menu came from their own organic gardens, something you could taste straight away. Via curvy mountain roads with beautiful views we arrived to our next destiny, Munduk. As soon as you leave the main road your travelling time doubles, since you do nothing but avoiding the holes in the roads, damaging your shock absorbers to the max. But we had enough time and were rewarded with a scenic drive through mountain villages and colourful local markets. Although the poverty is undeniable, people are so friendly and nice. Everybody recognized us at a distance, since the only people driving a Suzuki Jimny are tourists. After the long drive, the silly mood in the car took over, especially when driving through LukLuk and GitGit. Before we knew we passed the Puri Lumbung Village, end of our destination. Unfortunately, all cottages were booked, but the receptionist gave us a garden room for a nice price. Small but with a beautiful bathroom and we looked forward to a nice warm bath. Especially since the temperature in the mountain was so much lower than in Ubud. Sad but true, no hot water and a shitty stream of ice cold water was the only thing we got. On top of that, our American neighbours entered their room and it became clear that there was no privacy whatsoever. The wall that separated our room from theirs was open at the roof end and we could even overhear their whispering. Result was that nobody dare to go to the bathroom, a part from Sara of course who doesn’t know any feeling of social shame or embarrassment at her age. Together with our nieghboors we complained at reception and managed to get a 25% discount. Enough to fall asleep satisfactorily. If you plan on staying at Puri Lumbing Village, keep away from room 21 and 22. The owner of Puri Lumbung also had some lumbung villas at the coast. A Lumbung is actually a barn to store rice. Here they turned them in to beautiful villas. We loved the pictures and went North. A part from rice Munduk is also famous for its cloves and August and Septemeber are harvest months. The picked spices were spread out in the sun to dry. Switched of the airco, opened the windows and let the wonderful smell overwhelm us. These cloves are mainly used for cigarettes but apparently the demand is so high that they only have to import cloves from Africa.
In Seritit at the coast we had to look for the Villa Ratu Ayu. Finally via a Zen resort (lovely, but no kids under 14 welcome) we found the tiny landroad that led to our place. And what a place it was! A shady garden, full of fruit trees in the middle of the rice fields, with views to the sea and mountains. The only sounds came from the farmer and the birds. Paradise. Negotiated and made a deal with the owner for 2 nights, all inclusive, since there wasn’t anywhere to eat within walking distance. They had 3 villas but we were the only guests. Kadek and Putu, the 2 employees running the place, gave us a royal welcome and pampered us enourmously during our stay. Sara ran freely in the gardens and discovered new things all the time. Papaya and durian trees, huge geckos and birds in all sizes and colours. At night we had a few unwanted guests like mice and rats, running from the balcony to the roof and back. My visit to the toilet at night, in the separated open bathroom caused a moment of fear at the sight of a few cute baby scorpions and a spider of respectable size who looked like they were guarding the china. The need to go was persistent so with utter preciseness I managed to take my seat and do my thing without disturbing anyone. Of course, didn’t tell Brigitte a thing until we’d left the place, since the presence of the mice and rats were already more than she could handle anyway. The only negative thing about the place was the mosque not far from the villa. The prayers interrupted the silence and peace at least 3 times a day. Bali is mostly Hindu but the West and North are partially Islamic. We were used to it already after travelling through Malaysia but here the first prayer was at 5 in the morning and lasted 15 minutes. A macho rooster or Allah, the reason is the same, we’re very tolerant but prefer sleeping in a little longer.
From Ratu Ayu we paid a visit to the Holy Hot Springs in Banyar. Several pools filled with sulphated water which is supposed to have healing powers. The path from the parking to the pools depressed us a bit. Kids of the same age as Sara selling bracelets, who with a heartbreaking sound of voice would ask for help in English while their parents were sitting at the road side eating fried rice and watching their selling skills. You can’t shut your eyes for the poverty in Bali, but using your own kids for a few Rupiah just isn’t right. When Sara approached them they laughed and played again like children at that age are supposed to.
For Sara the hot springs were just another pool, be it a lot warmer than usual. There were few tourist and many pictures where taken again of Sara. We forgot her floaters at the hotel so I carried her and we went into the pools together. The local women were in the water with the children and the men were sitting at the side of the pool gazing at the few Western women in bikini. After the springs we paid a visit to a Buddhist temple. The Brahmavihara Arama is the only Buddhist monastery in Bali. It’s also a retreat. Nevertheless, the earthly temptations were still stronger even though Sara loved the presence of all Buddhas. After the usual pictures we returned home where a lovely meal awaited us.
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Koh Phangan and Phuket
This time a less hectic arrival at the ferry gate, maybe symbolising the atmosphere on the island, at least we hoped. First we had to go through some tough negotiations with a songthaew driver to get to Haad Salad on the North West coast of the island. They double or triple the price of their trips just because you’re a tourist. If we would just be there for 2 weeks of holiday, we would care less. Worst case we’d have to pay 750 Baht (15 euros). But the longer we travel, the more it becomes a matter of principles to not pay more than the usual price for transport, also because we’re on a budget. In the end, the guy took us there for 400 Baht. A Dutch woman who lived in Singapore for years travelled with us in the songtaew and she still couldn’t get used to the hassling as soon as she crossed the boarder.
Koh Phangan is world-famous for its monthly full moon party. It started innocently in 1987 with some beers, music and a couple of people who had come to a goodbye party to one of the guests of Paradise Bungalows on a full moon night. Nowadays it’s a dance event where monthly about 10000 people from all over the world gather to party. To take it to a higher level all sorts of drugs, mainly amphetamines, are abundantly but illegally available. Haad Rin, at the most Southern point of the island, is an absolute paradise for party people. Haad Salad, our beach, was on the other side of the island, in a small bay with clear blue waters, surrounded by hills covered with palm trees. The few resorts there were fully booked and too expensive. We ended up at Asia Bungalows, a spacious clean bungalow, just a few footsteps from the beach. The owner of the place lived there herself as well and was busy all day maintaining her beautiful tropical garden. We felt at home straight away. Sara went crazy over the beach and sea and took off immediately. This time of year, the tides are dramatic, so at low tide the water would completely withdraw behind a small reef. This meant that the water never got above knee level, ideal for Sara. After her afternoon sleep we walked into Vanessa on the beach, one of the two English girls we met back in Krabi. She was staying with Sarah in a yoga resort in the same bay as us. They both were in pain from all the exercises they’d been doing and the only movement that didn’t hurt them was lifting a glass. So we got some ice cold beers and sat in front of our bungalow watching the sun go down. Absolutely fantastic. Sarah and Vanessa were already convinced back in Krabi that they would meet us again. They said that if there’s a click with certain people, one way or the other, you’ll end up meeting them again somewhere on your journey. Our Sara loved to see them again, since both of them were crazy about her and played with her all the time. The beers kicked in pretty well, since after a quick curry we all went to bed early.
Next day it was even more bizarre when we met Sandra from Zurich who on her turn happened to know our friends back in Switzerland. It’s a small world after all! She was travelling with her husband and 2 kids of 6 and 10. They were at the end of their world trip which lasted a year altogether. She gave us some tips on Bali and Western Australia and we told her to say hi to our friends in Flims, whom she was going to meet the week after. They will not believe we met. We spent the rest of the day swimming, sleeping and eating. Sara bought a new bikini, which she picked herself, since her swimming diaper became too small for her. Very proud of her new beach outfit she ran up and down the beach, having to stop every now and than posing for Japanese or Chinese tourists. There have been more pictures taken from her than we took ourselves during the trip. In general we have no problems with it. We just have 2 rules: Sara must be ok with it and people have to ask for permission before making any pictures of her. We regretted not going to Koh Phangan earlier. The island had enough places to discover and visit, but we had no time to do so. After 2 nights it was time for us to leave again. Our boat back to Koh Samui didn’t leave until later in the afternoon so we spent some time with Vanessa and Sarah and had some goodbye drinks. Vanessa’s next stop would be Fiji. She was going to look for a job and a muscled rugby player over there (she was absolutely crazy about rugby). Sarah would meet her Finnish boyfriend in Malaysia and would travel via Bali and Australia to Argentina. We exchanged email addresses and agreed to try to meet each other either in Bali or Argentina. We would have loved to stay at least a week longer on Koh Phangan but adjusting the flights would be too costly and without much enthousiasm we took the boat back to Koh Samui.
After spending one more night in Choen Mon Beach we took an early flight with Bangkok Airways to Phuket on the West coast. This was the first flight ever in my life where everybody remained seated after the plane landed, even when the doors opened. Practically all passengers boarded the plane straight from the Full Moon party without having slept and they where having huge hangovers from booze and drugs. In Phuket it was pooring with rain, symbolising our slightly sad feelings. We passed all illegal taxis and took our first metered taxi, which would cost almost half the price of the others for the same ride. But even these taxis didn’t come without surprises. When we paid, the driver added another 100 Baht to the bill for being a “licensed airport driver”. With the look of triumph on his face, he pointed out the small letters at the back of the bill. I think we’ve had all possible bullshit stories for now ranging from the high gasoline prices, heavy luggage, pushchair, family, going out of town center, after 0600 pm, before 0800 am to extra diplomas and licenses. We are curious to know what else is waiting for us. Maybe worth to write a travelbook about, “the world of do’s and don’ts with taxis”.
Since we would only spend 2 days in Phuket we booked a nice resort through internet at Kamala Bay. The damage of the tsunami was still visible here and we were told that for various reasons the village of Kamala was behind with renovation works in comparison to the rest of West coast. We found signs with “tsunami evacuation route” everywhere and funny enough the route for locals and tourists differed. As far as I know, panic doesn’t differ. Through the “tsunami 100 years-park” the locals tried create a memorial, never forgetting this traumatic experience. It’s hard to imagine that every single person in the village lost at least one family member because of the tsunami.
Meanwhile Sara has mastered the “wai”, the Thai way of greeting or saying thank you. Just one meter tall, she got out of the taxi, walked to the staff of the resort and greeted each one of them with the wai. The resort had a big pool and a kids club, although this last mentioned was closed because of a seminar. The pool fortunately was open and attracted all visitors, mainly families with children. Families from Egypt, Canada, New Zealand and Argentina guaranteed enough fun and material to talk about. The resort offered a free shuttle service to Pattong Beach, but after Koh Samui we had enough of all the loud mass tourism. Kamala Bay itself was quite dead, peak season was December/January here, pretty refreshing for us though. This did mean that lots of restaurants were closed. The swimming pool at the resort had its own swim-up bar, ran by Jake. Jake used to be a monk back in Chang Mai for 7 years and was now working for his money in Phuket. According to Jake the real Thailand wasn’t anything like Phuket, for that we’d have to go up north. Apart from his chauvinism, we figured he was probably right, especially when it comes to places like Koh Samui and Phuket. Jake worked 6 days a week, 12 hours per day and didn’t have any holidays or days off this year, because there was a lack of staff in the resort. Even though his job one of the better ones you could have, we were shocked to find out that his monthly salary was less than our daily salary at our previous employer. While having a beer at the bar we met Travis, a nurse/surfing addict from Adelaide who was staying at the resort out of pure love for his girlfriend. The waves back home were at its best at this time of year and you could see the guy suffering without his board and shore. His girlfriend just came back from Europe where she spend 6 months studying. They decided to see each other in Thailand after so long, before he’s have to go back to work and she’d have to start studying again. To us it seemed that the flame on her side was gone, but he compensated for that lack on his side. A very nice guy who you’d think would work for the local tourism office, listening to the way he promoted his city, Adelaide. If we ever get to Adelaide, we’ll visit him for sure. While Sara was swimming and playing with the other kids in the water, it turned out to be a very nice happy hour after all. Enriched by a few new stories and a huge tip to Jake poorer, we were happy to catch our next flight the day after. With Air Asia to Singapore, where at the end of the afternoon our round-the-world ticket would take us to Bali. Our last stop in Azie before going down under.
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