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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