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The last days in Bali. Kuta and Padang Padang beaches

#balirocks #padangpadang #kuta #surfcamp #bali #indonesia

The land of volcanoes pt. 2, Mount Ijen. Blue lava at sunrise.

#mountijen #java #indonesia

In the land of volcanoes pt. 1, Mount Bromo

#mountbromo #java #indonesia

Surabaya or the biggest mosque in Southeast Asia

#surabaya #java #indonesia

The Eat, Pray, Love, Repeat Post

It is the kind of evening where there is really not much to do other than sit tight, hunker down and let the hours pass you by. From the comfort of my deck chair at Jayathu Homestay in Ubud, a modest-sized cluster of towns in the central highlands of Bali, I am taking in the chilly breeze and light rain that was foreshadowed this afternoon by heavy, low-hanging gray clouds. Suddenly, it all seems a bit pointless: the running around trying to absorb as much as possible from each adventure, the cultural experiences that ultimately are synonymous with endless hours of travel on questionable vessels and just in general this whole thing. Maybe just sitting somewhere exotic and reading a good book is enough, at least as a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle that has become my daily routine. In my latest read, Paul Theroux writes astutely that “extensive traveling induces a feeling of encapsulation; and travel, so broadening at first, contracts the mind.” This is a harsh verdict I would like to hope this kindred spirit of mine wrote in one of his darker moments of bored introspection, but I get his point. While it is important to never lose sight of how much a blessing this lifestyle is, it can wear the nerves thin particularly in a quiet little town with not much to do. I’ve pretty thoroughly canvassed the nature scene here, and after a temple day tomorrow (how many of those have I had in the last four months?), it is going to be time to move on to more invigorating pastures.

Ubud itself, like the rest of Bali, must have once been a stunning place. At the confluence of two rivers and a handful of villages, Ubud (pronounced oobood) is the cultural epicenter of everything Bali. It was historically the seat of Balinese Hinduism, and remains to this day a center of arts, crafts and what certainly must be the closest thing on earth to a landscape that is colored only with shades of green. Dark green, light green, medium green, jungle green, moss green, dirty monkey green, it is all here. Unfortunately, despite the potential for breathtaking scenery, what it is not is a tranquil nest like Mengewi was last week. Rather, it is a hive of tourist activity, overmarketed and overhyped. I was told by a reliable source that the number of visitors to the town increased twofold in the year after the release of Eat, Pray, Love, which sees its protagonist find the third of the book’s namesakes in these rustic hills. The number doubled again when Julia Roberts reprised the role. The result is a crowd that is very different from elsewhere on Bali. Mainly women, mainly 40+, mainly single and all in yoga paints. They come to stretch out their bodies and minds while hoping for a quick fling with one of the repulsively effeminate Indonesian “spiritual” types who spend all day reading Anglophone books in local cafes while the women take turns resting their heads on them. For me, this town is a write-off, a mind-numbing experience that offers very little of what I am looking for on this trip so Saturday, after taking a cleansing dip in the holy waters of Tirta Empul, I am out.

But it would be doing a great injustice to the rest of this island to allow even a single post to be solely about Ubud. This post is really about the fascinatingly dual Gili Islands where I had spent the three nights prior to Tuesday. Since coming to Bali, my question for everyone with a hint of an answer on their face has been where the best beaches were. The answer has always been to soak up the culture and good vibes of Bali then head to Gili for the beach. And true this was, while it was still not the idyllic paradise I had been trained to expect from Bali, nor did it even compare favorably to the main wonderful beaches in Thailand, it was very turquoise and, with the exception of a few bouts of wind, was a great place to soak up the sun. Be that as it may, like everywhere in Indonesia, that was only the tip of the iceberg. Bali, Gili and Indonesia in general it seems is a place that is perhaps most fascinating for its contrasts. The narrow strip of beach at Gili Trawangan’s hyperbolically-named Central is immediately across a slim dirt road from some of the priciest hotels in the country. Needless to say, it is a place that was designed to impress. But a brief afternoon stroll behind these glorious edifices revealed in a heartbeat the true nature of the island. Mountains of trash, no doubt from a combination of the hotels and the local residents, grow larger as one goes deeper into the small forest nestled between the east and west coasts. It is the very definition of unsustainable tourism, a place so wrought with squalor that those who see it cannot help but react with disgust to the very mention of the island from that moment on. Such is the case in Bali too, where the pricey spas of Ubud that draw these 40 year old+ lone souls are perched atop heaps and heaps of whatever the townies have thought appropriate to discard into the rivers, rice paddies and jungles. I will caution you that the epically green photos I posted below all took careful framing to exclude the full scope of what stood before me.

I understand, I really do. It is a monumental task to attempt to govern a country of 13,000 islands with several pockets of very different and very proud cultures. For that matter it isn’t easy to instill a sense of order in anyone in Southeast Asia it would seem. But for a country that prides itself on being a relatively conservative Muslim democracy, rich with many gifts only one of which is the tourism industry, it should do better. This isn’t the Bali I had dreamed of, I’m not sure it ever existed but if it did it has long since been corrupted and spoiled. Come here for the smiley people. Come here for the occasional beautiful beaches. Come here for the amazing mountainscapes. Come here because the sunset is more beautiful than anywhere else on Earth. But come knowing what you are participating in because finding out after the fact is a painful betrayal.

I am thinking that it is time to forage a little bit deeper into Indonesia, perhaps heading west to the national parks of Bali before crossing over to Java for its splendid volcanoes, some of the most active on Earth. With a renewed sense of purpose, I expect the joy to return to this once in a lifetime odyssey. But until then, I look upon Bali with a scornful eye and wonder what went wrong.

Thanks for reading, I miss you all. Kudos to anyone who gets both references in the title of the post.

Shades of green. A day of monkeys and paddies in the hills of Ubud.

#ubud #bali #indonesia #shadesofgreen #eatprayloverepeat

The Bali Road Trip Post (pt. 2)

After a wonderfully contemplative day in Megewi where I left you in my last post, I spent the early afternoon of day 3 exploring the hills of central Bali in the black Mazda 2 before ending up at Ulun Danu temple, a modest Hindu pagoda straddling Lake Bratan some 1000ms about sea level. Built in 1663 to provide a base for ceremonial offerings to various aquatic deities, none of which I’ve ever heard of, it is today a photogenic stop but not more than that. See photos below, what the landscape lacked in the pea soup fog was more than made up for by the cool temperatures and ghastly quality of the visit.

After briefly returning to the still dreamy Villa Taman in Belayu I made for the mountains proper, intent on pushing the limits of the little 2 but accidentally pushing the limits of my own driving. By the time the Mazda and I set out for the little eastern enclave of Amed, it was already 7pm and the last light had vanished behind the mountain. The rest of the 3+ hour journey would be in dark. The beginning of the drive was familiar, bringing me past the familiar strawberry patches in the foothills around Lake Bratan, but this quickly turned into a vertiginous ascent on a single-lane, two-direction road laced with hairpin turns. Then came the road down to Singaraja, Bali’s second city on the northern coast near the touristy black-sand town of Lovina. Clearly overtrafficked, with sheer mossy cliffs to the left of the car at all times, it was a whole other experience. 26kms down to Singaraja, each one absolutely terrifying. But I made it! And then it was a relatively straight shot on a bumpy road high above the Bali Sea on a new set of smaller cliffs for 90kms to Amed. Amazingly, I found it around 11pm and then set out to find a place to stay. Easier said than done in a town of a few hundred where every person still awake was at the one bar with live music that night. That is how I ended up staying in the room at the back of that bar, Pacha for a dirt cheap fare. The room, to be fair, was absolutely enormous, four post bed, outdoor shower, loft, patio the whole thing. A stone’s throw from the beach it proved a fantastic base for exploring the Amed Coast with 2 over the following couple of days.

Days 4 & 5 were spent sunning on volcanic black sand beaches (amazing for tanning it turns out), and taking in enormous sunsets. See all the photos here. All I’ll say is that it’s an experience everyone should have once in their life to sit, perched on top of a dusty cliff watching the sun set over the horizon behind a 3500m volcano with Indonesian guys singing Bob Marley and Jason Mraz. The cold beer for $1 wasn’t too shabby either.

And then suddenly it was over, 3 days passed in Amed and it was time to return the car and head for neighboring Lombok’s Gili Islands (pronounced with a hard G). I had originally planned to return south to Kuta where I rented the car from but discovered a direct express ferry from Amed to Gili (Amed is Bali’s closest geographic point so it would be barely a 45 minute journey). Well worth bribing the rental company to come pick it up which they did with very un-Balinese efficiency. But I missed the boat, it had not even crossed my mind to enquire about the schedule of the boat. There was one a day, at 9 am, 3 hours earlier. Ok that’s my fault, but in any case the next morning I was ready bright and early to hit the road.

The ferry to Gili left from the “pier” at the east of town. Who knows what that means, turns out it just means that the Pacha Express, owned and operated by “Messi” (also the owner of Pacha Bar where I stayed), was moored on the shore of Jemeluk Beach with a group of passengers waiting to brave the surf and hop on. It was a circus. Little Balinese women were the porters, stuffing people’s bags on the boat’s roof after asking where you were headed and tying a little color-coded reed on the strap. The passengers stumbled, trying to keep balance with their feet buried in the sand and the small but vigorous morning waves pounding at them. Ultimately, we all made it on, even though I was last and ended up being the only person standing as the boat sped maniacally towards Gili for almost an hour. Pure joy.

So just like that, my time in Bali is finished for now. I’m surprised to say that it was not really that beautiful. The southern beaches were more crowded and dirty than I’d have liked, the northern ones too remote and primal to fully enjoy. Where is the perfect sand and crystal clear water? Gili. Gili is perfection incarnate, a trio of islands sitting a few kilometers off Lombok. Gili Trawangan (called T) for fun, Gili Meno for couples, and Gili Air for hippies. I’m on Gili T for three nights and have fallen for the charming disposition of the place and its people. There are no motorized vehicles, so all transport including goods and merchandise, moves via bicycles or more commonly horse-drawn carriage. The horses are in rough shape, but it works. I have yet to take my first horse but will definitely take plenty of photos when I do. The beach is beautiful, especially at low tide when the beach is wide and white, but a little overbuilt. Anyways, a perfect place to spend a few days relaxing and taking in the scenery.

Other than that, for a place such a short distance from Bali, Gili is nothing alike. It is Muslim, Bali is Hindu. That means prayer calls and services all day, especially during Ramadan when the prattling never seems to pause for the mind to quiet. Just kidding, it adds a note of charm but forgive a man for not being able to stand more than a certain dose of it. Gili also sits across the Strait of Lombok and an interesting biogeographical feature of the region called the Wallace Line. The line highlights the boundary between the fauna and flora of Asia, and that of Oceania. Biogeographically, Bali is Asia and Lombok/Gili is Oceania. Concretely, this means that the monkeys of Bali are nowhere to be seen here. Instead there are the first marsupials, various cousins of the kangaroo, etc. Weird place.

Anyways, for now thanks for reading, stay tuned for more in the coming days. Much love.

#amed #bali #indonesia #lombok #giliislands #gilitrawangan #giliT

Day 5: another epic Amed Beach sunset, the last I'm sad to say

#amed #bali #indonesia #balisunset

Day 5: Amed Beach, Jemeluk Beach and Lipah Beach (in order of lightness of sand).

#myblackheart #amed #lipah #bali #indonesia

Day 4: sunset at Amed Beach

#amed #bali #indonesia

Day 4: late afternoon at Amed Beach

#amed #bali #indonesia

High up in the Balinese mountains, buried in the strawberry fields, Ulun Danu temple. Day 3.

#ulundanu #bali #indonesia #baliroadtrip

The Bali Road Trip Post (days 1 & 2)

There are some places on this little planet of ours that have a certain purity, a sensory quality that is indescribable in words but moves the soul to reflect. Luckily for me and perhaps for Bali insofar as I’m sharing it with those of you that do not know it, I have found such a place after a tumultuous first few days. I am sitting on the veranda of a perfect countryside retreat in the foothills of the Balinese mountains surrounded by the kind of sounds and smells that remind me that being surrounded by nature is not just the most suitable environment for the human mind to wander, but maybe even a necessary component of a satiated existence. Such is the mystery of Bali that, as I have discovered it so far these four days, it appears to be continuously able to reinvent itself every few miles with stunning landscapes both maritime and other. It has inspired me to seek a truer version of the island, to get beyond the horrid tourist mongers of Kuta that I described in my last post in order to find that element absent from its immediate point of arrival, to find what it is about this little rock at the corner of the south Pacific and the eastern Indian Ocean that has for so long been a subject of awe and fascination. I am pleased to say that while there is a long way to go on this adventure, I’m getting closer.

So it was that yesterday morning I found myself leaving the mobs of Jalan Legian behind the wheel of a cute-yet-peppy black Mazda 2 headed for a five or six day road trip to… well, to somewhere I hope. The first step was to head south from Kuta to the five star enclave of Nusa Dua. What I found there was unsurprisingly equally appalling to the debased reality of my first stop. Gone were the backpackers and rugged Aussie surfers, in their place the glitterati of the world such as it exists here lounging on a mediocre beach covered in trash, coarse brown sand and intermittently turquoise surf. Don’t get me wrong, it was a much better version of nearby Kuta, but a ways still from what I am hoping to uncover here. Maybe my expectations are too high? Ever since I went to Bora Bora and its Tahitian neighbors as a teenage boy, I have wondered about Bali, the island so beautiful it consistently outranks these and all the rest as the most beautiful island on Earth. It did begin to betray itself in Nusa Dua, hinting at a more primitive beauty that was once here but has long since been replaced by poured concrete and filth. It didn’t help either that my hotel was perched atop a hill some 3 kms inland revealing the immense city below for what it is, as opposed to the veneer of isolation created by the beachfront resorts. But in Nusa Dua, it is a lie.

Day 1 of the road trip was nothing to complain about, though. The beach was good enough, I managed to sneak into a five-star hotel’s pool, and finished the evening at Uluwatu Temple perched atop enormous western-facing cliffs bathed in soothing red sunlight. I made my acquaintance with the monkeys of Bali, a group so cheeky that they were responsible for many a hair-pull while I walked around. See the attached photos of the overwhelmingly powerful surf hitting the cape, just wow. I finished the day back in the hotel room taking a much needed alcohol break and longing for a more scenic day 2, so I made my little itinerary and went to sleep early with a good book in hand. It made sense to diversify a bit since the day had been a bit of a disappointment. Tomorrow would include a long ride through the mountains to the scenic lakeshore temples of the hinterland before hitting the black sands of Lovina Beach. Which brings me to my first lesson of Bali. It is a place of endless treasures, but not necessarily the ones you planned and so I recommend remaining firmly mobile throughout your time here and open-minded when enclaves of perfection present themselves.

As it turns out, day 2 started in a more frustrating way still. I left the mediocre Swissotel on the early side, headed for an action-packed day only to find myself lost with a dubious map in hand and gridlocked in an endless stream of cars on some non-descript midland road. Perhaps it was pure chance or perhaps it was the manifestation of what I truly longed for, but I ended up stumbling upon the Villa Taman in Blayu looking for somewhere to fill up my tummy before many more miles ahead sometime mid-afternoon. As soon as I parked the car and crossed the threshold, it was clear what I’d found. I began my time here at a large table surrounded by a lotus flower pond sporting the most perfect pink specimens I have seen to date in Asia (or anywhere else). After filling up on a coconut curry chicken plate to die for, I enquired about the price of a room for the night on the off-chance they were not full and would see the economic rationale in taking a low-ball offer. Turns out they did, and after a little good-willed haggling I got the Deluxe Villa for a bargain basement price, far less than what it is worth. I am nowhere near a beach, but from the elegant patio enjoy sweeping views of endless terraced rice patties worked by an army of locals. The bathroom includes a small pond surrounding the bathtub like a moat, peopled with gold fish. Heck, I even have my own waterfall, why not.

After the noise of Kuta and the generally mediocre experience of Nusa Dua where I pray none of you ever end up being tricked into honeymooning, I am in heaven. The people are real, the senses are calmed by the endless quiet. I even got to first make a fool of myself stumbling on the narrow paths through the rice patties, then learn about the Balinese art of kite flying from a bunch of still-amused children. It’s really hard to take photos that do justice to the scale of this countryside haven, but please feel free to peruse my attempts below. Sitting here this evening with a bottle of wine and the ubiquitous book, I’ve come to my second lesson of Bali. Do not be fooled into thinking the noise and crowds are the long and short of it, find the isolation that allows you to appreciate the grandeur of the natural beauty that was once gifted to this place. It’s a place of cultural relativism where every minute you see strange things, but embrace them and they will embrace you. Today I chatted with locals who were bathing in the nearby irrigation canal, picked a bit of rice, marveled at the kites, and dipped in an infinity pool that looked out over, well, nothing. Maybe that’s the best kind, the kind where you are not forced to gaze out towards some ocean you are not in, but rather to look back and enjoy the beauty of exactly where you are.

I read a great line the other day. “The wish to travel seems to me characteristically human: the desire to move, to satisfy your curiosity or ease your fears, to change the circumstances of your life, to be a stranger, to make a friend, to experience an exotic landscape, to risk the unknown, to bear witness to the consequences, tragic or comic, of people possessed by the narcissism of minor differences” (Paul Theroux). I’ve already experienced all of that in Bali. And it’s only been four days, stay tuned.

Thanks for reading.

#bali #uluwatu #nusadua #indonesia #balihills