With lovely clean, fresh sheets on the bed, waking early is not as bad as it could be. It’s strange to wake to find Mike in bed beside me. When we sail we are never in bed at the same time. No further comment except that who needs a bed?
Mike decides to make his own way to finish off the legal paperwork and returns about an hour later. He can’t get a taxi for love nor money as a cruise ship is in and all the drivers are queuing there rubbing their hands with glee. The security guy on the gate asks Mike if he can ride a motor bike and when Mike says yes, he lets him take his. How trusting is that?
Mike returns and bungs the guy a tip, which is probably far too much given how pleased the guy looked with it, but the money is so confusing – so many bloody ‘0’s on the end. Apparently you take about four of them off and that’s roughly the amount of US dollars.
Although all the paperwork is now complete, we have to return to quarantine at 10 am to get our passports back – and our tour is due to start at 9 am.
We get to reception to meet Arsa (our guide) and Tama (our driver). We are a bit late starting out and decide to go straight to quarantine in the hope that our passports will be ready. Not a hope. We sit and wait, everyone nodding and smiling at us, but they do arrive, just a few minutes late. We shake hands with everyone in sight and leave. Poor Mike will have to return to customs tomorrow to clear out – that’s officialdom with a smile three days on the trot!
Then we start our tour, our day of sensory overload, or at least, it’s that way to us after 7 days at sea. We drive through the capital of Denpasar, then through Batubalan, where we are too late to see the Balinese dancing even if we wanted to, then Celuk, where we don’t bother stopping to see the gold and silversmiths (Mike breathes a sigh of relief here). Our first stop is in Mas to see woodcarvers at work.
Watching the woodcarvers is amazing. Every few seconds they change a chisel for another one with a slightly different shape, then back to another one. An intricate one of about a foot high can take a month to create. Once the demonstration is over, we are (of course) invited into the gallery to look (ie buy). Mike and I have already decided that we are going to get a piece of wood as our reminder of Bali. We are well aware that in this gallery we are paying top price so decide to buy something that is made from imported ebony (from Borneo) as none of the cheaper places seem to have this expensive wood. We are followed around by an enthusiastic salesman, who although he assures us he will leave us alone to look, does everything bar shove every piece I stop to look at into my arms. I wish they understood that to most Westerners, this is irritating, but I suppose it works enough to make it worth their while.
We settle on a traditional Balinese Buddha head. The the fun begins – the haggling. I hate haggling but try 50% of the asking price. She offers 23%. I try 50% again. She offers 30%. I try 50% again. She offers 40%. This makes it about £28 for a solid piece of carved ebony. I could probably get it to 50% if I tried the walking out technique but by now I am bored. They try very hard to get me to buy the bowl I was looking at, not understanding that the head/bowl was an either/or situation – I was only ever buying one thing.
Next stop is the Hindu Temple at the Elephant Caves (Goa Gajah) at Bedulu. Ninety percent of the country practise Balinese Hinduism, and these caves were originally carved as a place of meditation. As Mike and I are both dressed appropriately (ie no shorts but long trousers) we don’t have to wear a sarong, lent free of charge at the gate.
There are shrines, temple buildings and springs all around. Of course, the atmosphere is somewhat lost with the millions of tourists milling around – that’s the trouble with a cruise ship day.
Photo: Stone carving
Driving around and absorbing the atmosphere is fantastic. It’s amazing to see all the little shrines with their offerings to the gods everywhere. I have never seem so many temples – but then most homes have their own temples in the front so for me it’s difficult to tell what’s what. Everything is so ornate. I just wish they would learn to discard their rubbish responsibly as there’s plastic everywhere. I presume they burn everything else.
We then head to Kintamani, higher up into the hills and cooler. There we find the volcano of Mount Batur and Lake Batur – and have our first taste of extremely aggressive (a word used by our guide) peddlers. These people won’t take no for an answer as they try to pressure you into buying sarongs and postcards. After three polite ‘no thanks’, we resort to turning our backs, but they still follow you along the street hoping you will change your mind.
We stop to have a buffet lunch at a restaurant and again run the gauntlet of the peddlers. They are obviously not allowed onto restaurant premises and as soon as you are on the steps you are safe. Our food is OK (buffet style, eat as much as you can, cruise ship style) and is traditional Balinese fare but toned down for the foreigners. At three times the price of the food at the marina, and less tasty, it’s a bit disappointing.
I try the famous Balinese desert delicacy – black rice pudding, once served just to royalty but since the bombing in 2002, now served to us as well as a thank you for coming back for holidays in Bali (that’s what the waiter tells us anyway). Since I don’t like ordinary rice pudding, this really didn’t stand a chance, and after a few small spoonfuls I go back and get fresh fruit instead.
Next we go to a plantation garden and see lots of things that grow in Bali – cocoa, coffee, ginger, ginseng and various fruits. Obviously we get the opportunity to taste (and buy). After tasting we buy some ginger tea.
I have never tasted (or heard) of salak fruit. It is quite delicious and tastes like a cross between an apple and a pineapple.
Next stop is the Holy Springs temple at Tampak Siring. We both have to tie a cloth around our waists as a mark of respect before entering, again, lent at the entrance.
We stop at some terraced paddy fields and find the most persistent hawkers yet. ‘Bugger off’ is beginning to spring to my lips but I continue go grit my teeth and say ‘no thank you’. I don’t care if what they are selling is dirt cheap, I don’t want it!
Finally we drive through the back roads to Ubad. This is a beautiful area and the property here is out of this world – ornate and beautiful homes, some traditional, some more modern, but all totally gorgeous. Unfortunately by now we have torrential rain which makes taking pictures completely impossible. When we get to Ubad itself, the rain shows no sign of letting up. I gaze out of the window into the shops – wonderful, wonderful shops. I could spend a fortune here. Mike sits beside me, gleeful that his wallet has no chance of being prised out of his grasp. What a bummer!
By the time we approach the capital, the evening rush hour is well into its swing. There are zillions of motor bikes but at least most people wear helmets here. It’s a lot less chaotic than the driving in India though and at least there are no autoricks anywhere.
We finally arrive back at the marina, and totally exhausted, head for the boat. After a quick rest, we go back to the marina restaurant and eat the same as we did yesterday. How I can eat that much for a second time in one day I do not know. I have got to shrink the storage capacity of my stomach! We notice that Grand Filou is now in and just as we finish our meal, Richie and Charlie arrive. We chat for a while and give them the benefit of our one day’s extensive knowledge of Bali as they will be here for a few days more. Lucky them.
Back on the boat, we get our internet stuff done again then have a cold shower (port engine hasn’t been on so no hot!) and head for bed. As I lie there, I contemplate Bali. I have really enjoyed my stay here and would recommend it thoroughly. If we had had more time I would have liked to go more off the beaten track. There were other tours which go further afield but with so little time, what we did was probably a good taster. The people are friendly and the peddlers, though irritatingly persistent, are no worse than I have encountered in India or even places like Turkey. In essence, it is a very spiritual and beautiful island, and there are bargains to be had if you are tough!
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