Enjoyed the other old JBRs posted ... so thought I'd also pass one along. Our first of a dozen visits to Bali was 1985 - and things were much different then. This particular JBR was from about 10 years ago .........
Next was one of our favorite places, the magical island of Bali in Indonesia. Home of barongs and sarongs, temples by the tons, picturesque rice fields, and my beloved Bintang beer!
Upon arriving, we made a quick stop in town of Kuta for business purposes, but the hustle and bustle, raging development, shop-infested streets, and pollution made for an unrelaxing stop. While it does offer a good selection of cheap food, shopping, and accommodation, it's also an area that tends to bring out some of the worst of Bali. Unlike the beautiful surrounding countryside which is blessed with geckos, dappled in ducks, and sprinkled with monkeys - Kuta attracts it's own brands of ‘wildlife'.
Take for example the raucous species 'surferous duderous', which can be seen with seemingly a full set of cutlery inserted in nose, ears, tongues, and eyebrows! I would argue that this is walking proof that evolution CAN go in reverse!
Another wildlife species endemic to Kuta, is 'moneychanger-ripoffus' . These are a slippery and shady sort which seek to fleece unsuspecting victims with an incredible array of treachery, including magic fingers, and cleverly re-wired calculators. As for finding one that can be trusted - there is probably more chance of finding a vegetarian pit-bull! Most of these double dealing, dishonest, despicable, and deceptive degenerates are to be avoided, as they are lower than a halibuts nipples!
By far the worst annoyance from ‘wildlife' comes from the feral species 'hawkerus-aggressiveous' - a two legged aggravating hominid, found mainly in Kuta. This rampant vermin claims sidewalks and alleyways as its habitat, and lurks about touting everything from watches to women, and massages to marijuana.
The problem is, the profusion of these pushy, pugnacious predators - whose primary purpose is pleading poverty and producing profit by putting pressure on the passive public. People get so perturbed with the pursuit, they'd be pleased to provide this prolific plague of pesky, persistent, parasitic perpetrators with a punch on the proboscis - but enough of the prolonged pontificating on these pitiful, pathetic pests - you get my point - one must always keep the peepers propped open, in preparation for the plethora of prowling ‘wildlife' permeating the pestiferous jungles of Kuta!
The tangle of traffic is terrible, and it seems the ‘drivers' are all a few coconuts short of a palm tree. Lanes mean nothing, stop signs - mean nothing, one-way streets mean nothing, and traffic lights mean very little. The basic road rules seem to be a variation on rock-paper-scissors. Bike beats people, car beats bike, bus beats anything else! Bigger is definitely better!
Any vehicle that has a horn working is considered roadworthy - despite the wire, string and glue that may be holding it together. Multitudes of motorbikes snake in and out of clogged traffic, and many are family-bearing bikes - with ‘pa' working the gas and horn, ‘ma' sitting side-saddle, and 2 or 3 little ‘lawn monsters' spilling out onto whatever space is left. We also have the odd lunatic, who thinking they are immortal, peddle along on rusty bicycles laden with ridiculous loads of whatever. Now to this fray we add oodles of decrepit diesel bemos buzzing about, belching buckets of blue - with 2 or 3 of the 4 cylinders asputter. Yup, maximized motor mayhem. Beam me up Scotty! One day here was more than enough in Kuta, and we left quicker than a cheetah on steroids!
Fleeing Kuta we moved on to Sanur which is gorgeous. Relaxed at the blissful Swastika Bungalows for five days. Rarely have we had accommodation that so completely satisfied. Lush tropical surroundings and beautifully landscaped. Our balcony is under the canopy of a humongous Jattie tree and we are serenaded with an assortment of melodious warbling from feathered friends unknown. Our vista includes bougainvillea, hibiscus, coconut trees, banana trees with surfboard size leaves, and other gorgeous jungle greenery.
Being runners we were please to have the opportunity to join the local Bali Hash Harriers for what turned out to be a soggy but picturesque run. Despite the inclement weather there was no boo-hooing. The run started from the ancient village of Pejeng in the interior of the island and took in some breathtaking Balinese landscape. Running through the verdant rice fields we savored the splendor of farmers sloshing about the paddies as they have for thousands of years. We splashed our way through small villages passing locals clad in their wet-weather gear (banana tree leaves) to shed the rain. They stared at us quizzically, while chickens, ducks and other sate-able items scrambled their way to safety. Finally to the finish, and the welcome sight of the Bintang beer truck (complete with beer tap). Pounded some ‘Binnys' while forming the ‘circle', ‘down-downs', and sing songs a good time was had by all.
Next stop was Lembongan Island, crossing from Sanur by an outrigger boat which we were a bit skeptical about having heard some of the upchucking stories. The boat looked just one wave short of a shipwreck, but fortunately we were blessed with calm seas the whole way. The deeps blue waters of the strait became turquoise as we chugged into the bay, with dozens of jugung (dugouts) bobbing at anchor in the crystal clear waters off the palm fringed beach. The economy of this dot in the ocean is mainly from the seaweed aquaculture. The low rainfall and high salinity of the sea makes conditions ideal for its growth. Farmers harvest at low tide and fill their dugouts to the gunwales, once dried, Hong Kong merchants purchase the weed for the cosmetic and food industry.
Thought we may have found paradise - until we saw the accommodation. Lembongan used to be a leper colony and is a place with very few mod-cons. What we thought would be good accommodation turned out a tad on the rustic side. No hot water - and only salt water showers, no air-con, and electricity only for a few hours of the day. Everything just felt damp and too uncomfortable for sleeping. The only wildlife we noticed was the ever-annoying, plasma gulping mozzie militia invading our open air hut in search of fresh meat, and a huge barking gecko in the room that startled the snot out of us in the middle of the hot and humid night.
We traveled back to Bali where the intense heat had me sweating like a pig in a bacon factory! Drink lots of liquids - that's the medical recommendation. OK - I'll buy that. Thanks to the excellent local Bintang beer, it has to be said that yours truly was indeed following medical instructions with unflagging diligence. In fact, through this copious consummation of 'liquids', I morphed into 'Sir Gulpalot' - that thirsty, swift-slurping sippitator of the ‘Bintangulous' Bali brew - trying to quaff, sip, swallow, swig, gurgle, glug, and gulp the failing Balinese economy back into shape!
Yes, having spent oodles of hours devoted to the research and study of the aforesaid golden elixir, I'm pleased to report that my ‘thirst for knowledge' resulted in my graduation in field of 'Bintangology'. Yes siree, in addition to the recent outstanding accomplishment of a PhD completion by 'Dr. Christine' - we now have Sir Gulpalot - 'certified Bintangologist'. Oh what a well credentialed couple we have become!
Sanur has wonderful and funky little beach restaurants. Very soothing listening to the waves lapping leisurely on the shore as our plastic chairs slowly sink into the sand. A great spot to satisfy a ‘Bintang itch'.
Bali is called the Isle of Smiles for good reason - the Balinese are amongst the friendliest to be found. We always enjoy the people, and only encountered 3 looney-toons on the whole trip, and 2 of them were tourists!
Behind door #1 we had 'Happy' - a woman sitting alone next to us muttering to herself and constantly laughing for no apparent reason. All of a sudden she got up leaving her meal and fully clothed waded into the sea and then dropped down laughing and floundering about in the water and sand like a wounded fish. Very strange.
Behind door #2 we had 'Dopey' - another traveler in a restaurant who must have been seriously spaced out on drugs, and obviously didn't know rat crap from rice crispies. Talking aloud to nobody and holding a rock against his head, he left the table to wander over and hug a coconut palm tree for about 10 minutes - looking like he was attempting some kind of Vulcan mind meld with it! Bizarre.
Behind door #3 was 'Grumpy' - a local guy who was so angry it looked as if somebody had shoved the rough end of a pineapple up his arse! He was jumping around, punching himself in the chest and wailing like a howler monkey in heat. This was kind of comical as Grumpy had a serious Bugs Bunny overbite with his front teeth providing shade for his chin, and probably never having met the rest of the chewing team! All this travel entertainment free of charge to anybody in the vicinity! Maybe it's the sun!
Happy hour on our balcony become a nightly ritual as we watched the sun retire for the night. We were entertained by the nightly squadrons of acrobatic bats engaging in 'operation bug-munch', and the cute little cechak lizards that are a mobile adornment on our bungalow walls as they scamper after the bountiful bug buffet.
Ubud was our next stop. A relaxing laid back spot that's perfect for the ‘culture-vultures' - with many artists, wood carvers, and interesting dances and ceremonies performed. We had a lovely bungalow overlooking the verdant rice fields, and even had a good hot water shower for the first time. Up till now we've had weak showers coming out a four foot hose that doesn't provide coverage from the nipples north, unless of course you are a midget, or down on all fours. We felt as happy as two germs in a Jacuzzi!
On St. Paddy's day we partook in another interesting Hash run from the village of Bongkasa, which is known as the pig stud village. Yup, if your interested in ‘makin bacon' this is the spot . The run group started from an old ceremonial gate in the village, bounding along through a medley of green, eyes and mind caressed by the many pleasing sights. We followed the Hash ‘trail', which had more twists than a bag of pretzels, and ended up getting lost several times. During the run we made half a dozen crossings of the Agung River up to our knees in water and mud - on these runs, trying to stay dry is as useless as mudguards on a tortoise!
Bare breasted women and naked kids happily splashing in the river looked somewhat bewildered as our running herd came sloshing past. They live such a simple life here - envious in many ways. After the long draining run, mandatory beer consumption, and of course the infamous hash ‘circle' (where punishments are handed out), eight of us piled in a car along side our sweaty gear, a guitar, and squeezebox, and headed to Naughty Nuris Warung for a feast. Hashers sang until they ran out of dirty songs (took a long time) and then exhausted headed on the long drive home. On On.
We've enjoyed some lovely hikes around the Ubud area. This mystical country is steeped in religion, and everywhere there are statues of gods and goddesses. With eyes bulging, nostrils flaring, tongues lolling, and faces frozen in a fanged sneer, they stand on guard ready to protect from evil spirits.
After dark in Ubud it's spooky quiet - in fact I've seen more signs of life in an oyster bed! Locals believe that night is the time for evil spirits to wander and tempt the community, so they make themselves scarce. As stars fill the sky, we listened to the crickets calling to each other out in the rice fields, along with a multitude of frogs striking up their evening chorus, and the geckos doing their own little ditty. The serenade was a twilight highlight, and a small part of the magic that's Bali.
We took a car for the day and roamed all the fascinating back roads stopping at several awesome temples and some spectacular countryside. In Bali there are more temples than homes. This day was another gem in the tiara of our travels. Driving the backroads and getting lost is a fantastic way to get a feel for the country.
One day Christine and I decided to try and go to Batubulan by bemo. Along with 14 other locals we were sardined into the rusted little bucket of bolts, while the driver closed the busted door by tying it with rope. With our arms and legs at various angles the trip began - damn good thing we had read the Kama Sutra!! Our hell-bent driver, who we felt was about as competent as Noriega's dermatologist, surfed the center line constantly until mercifully we reached our destination and uncramped! Ahhhh...the joys of travel.
Our last night in Sanur was a delight. We ambled down the quiet beach to the Bonsai Café, for some lovin' from their oven, and sat at our favorite table in the sand, with the waves gently lapping at the shore less than 20 feet away. A mellow Caribbean soundtrack playing in the background, and Mt Agung silhouetted by the brilliant 3/4 moon and gazillions of stars above made for a most romantic setting. It just don't get much better! After dinner we strolled through the garden which is home to hundreds of exotic Bonsai plants. Meanwhile, the giant bamboo on the perimeter of the garden is swaying and whispering to each other in the gentle breeze.
Hey it's a tough life - but SOMEBODY has to do it!
Back once again in the dreaded Kuta (and you know how I feel about that!). While normally Kuta would be about as welcome as a hole in a lifeboat - there was a bit of good news. I figured if we gotta be here, then we may as well do it in style, so for the last few days we rented the penthouse in the Rum Jungle Hotel (don't ya just love the name).
A lovely spot place, and as I pen this scribble I'm sitting on one of our 2 exotic flora-laden balconies with a cold Binny in hand (bet you already guessed that), looking down over the 2 gorgeous swimming pools. ‘Mrs. Bintang' is out power shopping (bet you already guessed that too). Very relaxing day. I had planned to do absolutely nothing - and so far I'm right on tract. The last time this fellow remembers feeling so mellow, I think Moby Dick was still a minnow!
Alas, this will be the last of my scribbles from afar, as it's time to leave the perpetual August of the tropics, and head for home - a move that may send stock prices in the Bintang Brewery plummeting!
Brrrrrrrrrrrrr - We're back. Well, we made it safely home to Canada. It was a long, but luxurious Raffles Class flight on Singapore Airlines. We even had some extra on board entertainment coming out of Singapore enroute to Korea, as about an hour into the flight a stowaway showed himself!
Yup, the feathered felon was a bird about the size of a robin that obviously flew on board in Singapore. He looked scared shiitless (we hoped), as he began flying about the plane, while the shocked frog-eyed crew looked on in astonishment. The drama that ensued was hilarious. Attempts by the crew to capture the elusive little bugger proved no easy task.
They spent a good hour trying with blankets and large plastic bags to snare him. He flew repeated escape missions about the cabins, with the crew in pursuit, while most of the passengers were cheering for the bird. What a hoot!
Alas, the crew prevailed, subduing the bird, and placing him unceremoniously into a storage bin. Passengers were assured that he would be taken back to Singapore and released. Good thing for the bird, if they released him in Korea with a temp of 9 degrees after coming from the 33 degree heat of S'pore, he would undoubtedly have frozen his tail feathers off!
And so a happy ending to a happy holiday, with many more magical moments for the memory banks.