I’ve been to Bali too

Bali has a sort of semi mystic quality in the Australian psyche. It has been the first overseas call for so many young Australians and a visit there has been considered something of a ritual. I can even remember a song called (I think) “I’ve been to Bali too” that celebrated the fact that you could not truly enter adulthood without having experienced the island. It was probably for that reason above a few others that a visit to Bali never appealed to me and, for some reason, I lumped most of South East Asia into the same basket and never had any real intention of going there. Yesterday I set foot on the shores of Bali and was impressed enough to quickly add it to my list of places to revisit.

 

We moored in Padang Bai and once all the passengers had been tendered to shore we were able to get off. Luckily it’s our last tender port for a while because it really does eat into the day and you need to constantly keep the thought in the back of your mind that you have to allow that little bit of extra time to get back to the ship. I have this constant fear of arriving at the dock one time to see the ship disappearing into the distance, leaving me stranded in a foreign land with little money, no passport and no knowledge of the local language. The thing that made this tendering process a little different was the number of people returning to the ship, or I should say coming to the ship. Because there is such a large number of crew from Indonesia this was an opportunity for a great many of them to see their families and a lot had arranged security passes to allow family members to visit the ship. As fast as the passengers were leaving there were Indonesian families arriving and being reunited with crew members that they probably hadn’t seen in months. It was a really touching sight and one that will be repeated when we get to the Philippines. The number of care packages has probably made the ship settle a few extra feet into the water.

 

Hitting the dock it was easy to see straight away that an effort had been made for the benefit of the ship. The posts of the wooden dock had been wrapped with cloth and small decorations of woven leaves hung from the rafters like Christmas ornaments. There was also a large crowd of people, some eagerly awaiting their opportunity to tender out to the ship and others awaiting their opportunity to assail you with their goods. I got my camera out and ready in the small open area that security was managing to maintain, put on my best “I just want to walk around and have a look” face and set off into the crowd. I have to say that at first it is an extremely claustrophobic feeling and I say that as someone who was easily a head or two taller than most of the people crowded around me. The number of carved, woven and printed things that were thrust at me with ridiculous prices being offered was quickly overwhelming. I would look one way to say no to someone and immediately feel half a dozen necklaces being placed on my other arm with the promise that they were free (yeah, right) and good luck. Between the sellers and the taxi drivers it was a little hard to walk. I made it to the beach and knelt with my eye fixed to the camera viewfinder in the hope that it would be obvious I wasn’t interested in buying anything and it did seem to quiet down for a moment as the crowd surged after other likely targets. I took a few photos of the local boats pulled up on the sand and readied myself to continue walking. The crafts being offered were amazing and the prices being offered hard to resist so I knew that I was going to end up buying a few things, I just wanted to do it on my time.

 

The bay we had landed in was a small one, hugged closely by jungle clad hills, and with a white sand beach covered in small local boats. The boats seemed like a slightly larger version of an outrigger canoe with outriggers on both sides and they came in a variety of muted whites, blues and greens. With the arms of the outriggers arching in a high curve before ending in the floats the boats seemed like so many long bodied insects poised to scuttle down the beach and into the water. On the other side of the muddy road that edged the sand there were restaurants and craft shops, all built of a combination of concrete block and orange tiled rooves but surrounded by so much greenery that the harsh building materials seemed softened and not as glaring as they might otherwise have been.

 

I had only taken a few steps, managing not to trample small children trying to sell postcards when I heard my name being called out. The casino manager was standing on the steps of a restaurant and he was asking me if I wanted to eat. Always being on the lookout for food I crossed the road and went up the few steps of the restaurant. The inside was a breathtaking change from the modern concrete exterior. It was open to the air on two sides and had a feeling more of a large covered deck than a room. The furnishings were all dark timber and the decorations were of stone and timber carvings and rich batik fabrics. Fresh flowers were everywhere and the sound of running water came from multi level water features. The breeze that came flowing gently through the room went some way to alleviating the humidity of the outside.

 

I ordered a local beer, perused the menu and ordered what seemed like a local dish. The beer was good and the food was spectacularly presented and turned out to be a variety of dishes giving me a good tasting. We finished our meal with coffees and my entire bill, including a 25% tip, came to $10. I was beginning to see what the attraction of Bali was to so many backpacking Australians. As we’d been eating I’d been invited to join Ilie and Corina on their tour of the island. They had already arranged for a taxi and he was waiting for them to finish eating before taking them to visit a place they could ride an elephant and then to a temple famous for it’s monkey residents. It all sounded good to me and the already agreed to price of $10 for the day was hard to pass up. We piled into the back of a van and headed out of the port area.

 

The scenery was straight out of a book titled “Asia clichés”. Spectacularly lush, we passed fields planted with bananas, corn and chillies. Terraced paddy fields of rice were everywhere. Neat squares containing plants at different levels of growth created a patchwork of varying shades of green and bands of silver flashed between the perfectly straight rows as we whizzed past. Every so often there would be someone knee deep in the water tending their plants in backbreaking labour. A high, wide photo would have shown a black road snaking through a variegated landscape where the line between natural and cultivated was blurred.

 

If I could somehow own the sole scooter dealership on the island I would be extremely happy because they were everywhere, stubbornly maintaining their place on the road in the face of large trucks and the occasional van or car. All of bikes seemed new or well maintained and all the riders were helmeted and intently focussed on where they were going in contrast to the seemingly haphazard traffic I’ve seen in other countries.

 

We passed through little villages that would have been unremarkable and so similar to other places except that even the most humble of buildings seemed to have a stone fence, gate or temple like structure that was built of stone and looked like it had been part of a large temple complex found in depths of the jungle and transported to the front yard. They were amazing structures in a distinctly Indonesian style that often dwarfed the building they fronted. It became easy to see where the abundant stone and wood carving skills have come from and as we drove I also began to notice the number of industrial yards containing the raw material for these temples so it’s obviously an important part of the Bali way of life.

 

That arts and crafts tradition was also obvious in the number of small shops and stalls selling a bewildering array of carvings, paintings and other items. As we would enter a village or small town there would be a sudden burst of places all stocked with wooden carvings, merchandise spilling out onto the footpath. A little later there would be a burst of shops with stone carvings or ones with oil paintings or batik hangings. I don’t know if areas are designated for certain craftsmen or whether they have just congregated together over time but if you are looking for certain items then there seems to be certain places you would go.

 

The place we were headed first was a white water rafting spot that also offered the opportunity to ride an elephant. I knew nothing about it but Ilie and Corina did and I was just going along for the ride. I didn’t know what to expect and when we got there all the signs proclaimed it to be an awarding winning tourist attraction. I was a little cautious about the place but it was only $15 for an elephant interaction. It was more to actually ride the elephant but I’m still in austerity mode and I’ve already done the elephant riding thing in Zimbabwe so I chose to the cheaper option. As it turned out Ilie and Corina were very glad that they chose to do the full monty because they had quite a long ride perched on a seat strapped to the back of a large, tusked, male elephant. I managed to get plenty of good photos of them as the elephant walked up and down tracks, stopped to eat and finally walked sedately into a pool of water, (much to Corina’s consternation) stopping to shoot fountains of water with it’s trunk for my camera. After that there were feats of balance and dexterity as it balanced on a stump barely large enough to accommodate all four feet. The handler was keen to show off and seemed to be more than willing to set up shots for me, obviously proud of his larger than life pet. He had it play a harmonica and I’d already noticed a couple of child like painting hung up that were obviously done by a pachyderm Picasso. He ended his show by picking all three of us up (one at a time I add) while we sat on his tusks and leaned back against his forehead. Ilie used my camera to get a couple of shots of me looking less than impressed by the height as the elephant sat back and stretched up, lifting his head until I was perched about 12 feet above the ground in an ivory throne.

 

It was all very impressive and well done even if strictly speaking elephants are not native to Bali. I can see why it would be an award winning attraction and the elephants, along with the adrenalin sports they offer and a very impressive restaurant overlooking a thickly jungled gorge; will make it something that is more than average. In this day and age of tourism it’s getting harder and harder to do that but I’m happy to give them a plug. By the time this hits book form or when I get home and have the time and connection to do a search, I’ll be able to provide a bit more information.

 

From the elephants we headed for a temple complex famous more for the number of monkeys that reside there than any architectural or archaeological significance. But first we had to stop at the obligatory gold and silver shop belonging to a relative of our guide. Ilie and Corina had a cursory look at what was on offer but I spent my time wandering around and taking a few shots of the surroundings. I think the guide may have been a little disappointed that we didn’t buy anything but we had made it obvious from the start that we weren’t interested in that sort of thing so it shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise and at least he did his familial duty.

 

When we arrived at the temple there was a $2 charge to get in and it was well worth the money. As I write this I can’t really elaborate too much on the history or significance of the temple or the grounds surrounding it, that’s something else that will have to wait for a more robust internet connection and the book, but it was a truly spectacular place and that was even without the monkeys. I don’t know how old it is but it has become an integral part of the jungle and the bright green moss that covers all of the stone surfaces makes it feel as if it is organically growing out of the foliage rather than being placed there. The entire complex includes paths and steps leading to small grottos with fountains, stone statues and ponds containing gold fish. There are creeks winding their way through ravines with stone pathways running alongside them that feel like they have been there centuries. The sense of age may come from the jungle growth, the moss covering everything and the massive trees that provide a canopy and shade over the entire area but it is an amazing place with an Indiana Jones feeling that’s hard to shake. And that’s apart from the monkeys.

 

At the entrance to the complex, after buying your ticket, you can buy a bunch of small bananas. This is monkey food, surprisingly and it becomes obvious why you need it really fast. There are monkeys everywhere and they know that the tourists have the food. The signs say that they are inquisitive and that you shouldn’t try to fight them for the food. If they want it let them have it and if one jumps on you just let it take the food and it will go away. I didn’t have any jump on me but I did have a few little monkey Oliver’s trying to find any bananas that I might have had in my pockets and I had to wipe monkey spit off my camera lens after one little guy seemed to become fascinated by his own reflection. I guess that they have figured out that there is little need for aggression and I certainly never felt concerned at any point, even when one held my hand firmly in his left while his right rifled for split ingredients.

 

Leaving the temple, stepping over moneys in the car park to get to the van, we headed back to the ship. This time we drove through far more urbanised areas, large towns with traffic lights and all the trappings of modernity. The thing that set them apart though was the massive white statues that seemed to occupy any major intersection. The Hindu religious iconography was evident and they certainly would have put any standard display of bushes or flower gardens to shame.

 

Arriving back at the port just in time to make the last tender to the ship, we had to run the gauntlet of sellers again and this time I had an idea of the couple of things that I particularly wanted. I don’t know if I got a good deal or not and undoubtedly there would be dozens of people onboard who would happily tell me how much less they paid for the same item, but the amounts I paid for the work that went into what I bought made them a bargain in my eyes and, more importantly, they are things that will remind me of a really great day in Bali. I may have put Bali in the “everyone goes there so I want to go somewhere else” basket but, like a lot of other places, I’ve changed my mind and would like to come back and explore some more. The world is turning out to be an amazing place.