Halloo,
After the hectic last couple of days in Ozzieland, I was pretty shattered getting to Bali. Fortunately the plane trip was made very bearable thanks to the company of surf-lovers Hannah and Charlie, and the taxi trip from Denpasar airport to Kuta - the tourist and surfing Mecca of Bali - was made rather cheery by sharing a cab with a couple about to tie the knot in Bali. Ahh - how lovely. On arrival, however, I set to pounding the streets, carrying my life tortoise-style with my rucksack on my back, to find a hotel. After numerous visits to hotels with no vacancies, having received a hug from a British couple who clearly thought I looked so bedraggled I needed one, and being offered everything from paintings to cure-all-potions by eager street vendors, I finally found an American called Darren who directed me to a nice little hotel with the extravagent room price of around 1.50 (pounds!) a night. I love cheap :-) After collapsing inelegantly in my room, I then spent a good few days sleeping, reading, and getting to grips with the culture difference.
Kuta is very touristy. One of the world's top holiday resorts, it is the Australian equivalent of Ibiza: sun, sea, sand and, obviously, surf, all accompanied by being harrassed on a minutely basis when walking down the street by shopkeepers selling every conceivable convenience known to man (and many useless inanities too!) Aside from the tourist-culture, however, there are little quirks which betray the Hindu culture underpinning Balinese society. Every street has a temple complete with stone-carved dragon-type creatures, or, failing that, there are enough offerings underfoot to dodge that it's nigh-on impossible to forget the importance of the Gods to the Balinese. Every morning I woke up to the sickly smell of incense, walked onto the street to find offerings in the form of little banana-leaf boxes filled with flowers, rice, and, strangely, Ritz crackers. Well, I suppose they have to modernise religion somehow! As most of Indonesia is Muslim, however, there are also constant reminders of the Muslim religion, mainly in the form of Halal food and water. As tourist-central, though, you can get pretty much any kind of food from anywhere in the world. I chose to stick to the cheap and cheerful (and very tasty) Indonesian options of Nasi Goreng and Mie Goreng (fried rice and fried noodles). Delish.
After a few days of chilling in Kuta, befriending some locals who had set up a tatoo parlour, visiting the 'owner' of the parlour (a crazy Austrian punk who had given them the money to buy the shop, then decided on a whim to buy a house in Bali and live there - I helped decorate her house in punk-style graffiti), and doing a lot of nothing, I finally got the itch to move. First trip was to Ulu Watu via Dreamland Beach. Dreamland turned out not to be so dreamy as when we got there it was under reconstruction as New Kuta Beach and there was little there beside rubble and a bit of dodgy sand. Ulu Watu, on the other hand, was fabulous. After sitting and staring at the surfers from a cliff-side Warung (restaurant) with travel-buddy Doug, we headed to the Ulu Watu temple to see a Balinese theatrics performance. As the sun started to set we made our way through the channels of the temple, with me falling victim to the pathologically cleptomaniacal monkeys, one of which stole my camera case, and settled in an arena to watch the show. From dances to theatrical interludes, all accompanied by the percussive vocal music of Balinese monks, the show was a spectacular shower of colour with vivid costumes, expressive facial expressions, traditional pyrotechnics. It told the legend of a lady stolen from her husband by a monkey king and portrayed the trials and tribulations the man had to go through to rescue her. Definitely a highlight. Also on the list of nice events was a trip to see the sunset from nearby Seminyak and a quick eat from a side-street stall with Raul, my Columbian next-door neighbour from the hotel. I thought food on the tourist stretch was cheap at a quid a meal - but Raul and I managed to get 2 drinks each, rice crackers, rice, and cap cay (stir fry mix) for a pound between the two of us. Crazy prices.
After Ulu Watu, I was keen to move on to see some more culture, and with some friends I had made on the beach, Isaac and Claire, I headed up to Ubud by bus. I did have the option to travel up with Raul by motorcycle - but after witnessing the liberal attention to whatever highway code may exist in Bali, I thought the bus would be a safer option! On arriving in Ubud, we met a Spanish lady, Ana, who was to become my room buddy for a few days. In Ubud, a town obsessed with art and culture, we trawled the market for bargain buys of Dutch influenced art work, Balinese jewelry and Thai fishermens trousers (of which I am now a proud owner :-) ). Ana and I also made a trip to the Monkey Forest to watch the monkeys parade around temples and be generally adorable. Far from the theiving primates of Ulu Watu, these monkeys were rather endearing. I saw them eating bananas, carrying their little babies around on their stomachs, and even having a water fight in a nearby fountain! Claire, Isaac and I also went to see the Kicak dances in the Palace of Ubud, which were really special. There was a full gamelan and percussion orchestra (all dressed up to the nines in red and gold robes) providing the soundtrack to numerous dances from men, women and children. From war to marriage dances, the costumes alone were a feast for the eyes, let alone the fascinating body movements which comprised the dance. Every part of the body seemed fundamental and indispensable - even the toes and eyes had gestures and moves laden with significance. In the fabulous palacial setting, it really was tremendously interesting. I think it is my favourite memory from Bali. To check out the culture around Ubud, Claire, Isaac and I rented a driver for the day and moseyed around the lush rice paddy fields in the area, heading up to Gunung Kawi to climb the 300 one thousand year old steps around ancient stone burial monuments. We went to Mas to watch the woodcarving and marvel at the grotesque faces of the gods, and went to Celuk to watch Balinese jewelers making some stunning silver pieces. We also checked out the Royal Family Palace and got a few good snaps of well kept gardens before heading back to Ubud to chill out in the reggae bar with Raul (a nightly occurrence in Ubud!) Claire and I indulged in a Balinese massage as a treat on our return form the day trip. And as if this wasn't enough culture, we had a rather cultured and cat-loving (they had at least four friendly cats, the sweetest of which was little Ginger who liked to sleep on the chair on my porch) little hotel here too. The hotel backed onto a temple and each morning I awoke to find a pile of rice offerings outside my door to ward off evil spirits! Amusingly, at the end of the road there was a Ralph Lauren and a Gucci store - just in case we needed culture of a different level!
After a few days in Ubud, marred only by a bout of Bali belly and sharing the room with some unwelcome cockraches and geckos, we decided to move on to the legendarily paradisical Gili Islands, recommended by almost every traveler I met in Kuta. One day of stressful bussing, boating, bussing again, boating, and wandering sandy streets to find accommodation, we arrived in the beautiful little paradise of Gili Trewangan, an island off the coast of Lombok. Gili T, as it is known, is as near a paradise as I have ever been in. There are white sandy beaches, with superb snorkelling just 5 meters off shore, no motorised transport, little hassle from the shopkeepers and a good selection of cheap restaurants and bars. On the non-touristy side of the island, which we visited by bicycle, the bars dwindle away and only picturesque beach huts pepper the perfect coast line. By day I swam, snoozed and snorkelled if the weather was good, and if it rained there was an unending selection of DVDs to watch at the Irish Bar or at Rudy's, along with some Wii games to keep us entertained. By night, however, Gili T burst into life. The bars were busy but not crowded, serving double G&Ts for the bargainous price of 50p, the locals came out to mix with the tourists, the cats came out to share our barbeque fish dinners, and the poi-throwing fire performers amongst the traveling community came out in force to give stunning shows on the street. I honestly think Gili T may be the happiest place on earth. There is a flip side though. For the more hard-core and experimental, it is also a non-policed island, so marijuana and various other drugs are available to all and sundry, as are the legal magic mushroom shakes. I didn't try any (being the very sensible and well-brought up girl that I am), which was just as well because on the second day we were there the locals were shaken up severely by the first police raid ever known to the island. Six locals were carted off with bags over their heads by teams of police in full body armour. A little scary, but at least all the hard drugs were cleared off the island afterwards. Another bit of slightly scary excitement also occurred during a thunderstorm, when a bolt of lightning hit a kettle just 10m away from where we were sitting. The thunder crack was deafening and my heart definitely jumped straight out of my chest! Fortunately no one was hurt. I much preferred watching the orange lights of the lightening from the thunderstorms over Lombok, seen from Gili T beach and a good, safe distance from the action! Flip-side or no, I still enjoyed Gili T immensely, and thanks to creating a lovely little friendship circle I managed to get 'stuck' there for a good week. I still think this is the happiest place on earth. I just hope it doesn't get too popular and turn into the next Phuket.
After Gili T, Isaac and I headed back on the arduous ferry/bus trip back to Kuta, leaving Claire to enjoy a couple more days of boozing. Once back in Kuta I met up with the Brummies (Edward and Chris, whom I had made friends with in Gili T) and tried my hand at surfing. While Isaac stood up after two attempts and will probably have O'Neill knocking on his door any day now, I was quite honestly appalling at surfing. In my lesson I managed to stand for a couple of seconds only to fall back on my arse immediately and get hit with the surf board. Once left to my own devices by the instructor, I couldn't manage even to catch a single wave to take me into shore so had to paddle my way back, taking a good 45 exhausting minutes. Oh well - I suppose I can't be perfect at everything - haha! I also met up again with Mira, my lovely German friend, and managed *finally* to catch up with Klaus (whom I met in Peru) after 6 months of nearly but not quite meeting along our traveling paths. Along with Isaac and Claire we went for a pricey but nice seafood meal at Jimboran, an area with posh restaurants lined up along the beach, with tables and chairs set in the sand and live Balinese music played throughout dinner. Another little excursion took us to Tanah Lot, a temple by the sea to the north of Kuta, where we watched the sun set behind 3 volcanoes and the temple. Photo-tastic :-) Other than that, the last few days of Kuta were spent killing time and waiting for my flight to Singapore, where I am now, very hospitably being put up by Mira's brother Ole. But more on Singapore city next time.
Much love,
Helen xxx
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