14th - 18th January 2012
Off to a rip-roaring start and without any of the numbness in the bottom area or stiff sore knees, we cruised out of Ubud on our little black and blue scooters and into the countryside. We passed through some towns, avoided getting ridden off the road by crazy Balinese drivers and generally enjoyed the breeze and the open road. We followed the coast for most of the way before heading inland and driving through Tirta Gangga, an area of such staggering views that we stopped several times to take numerous photos. Unfortunately for us the first stop was just a little before a police bottle neck where money hungry traffic officers were keen to bring us to justice for not driving with our international licence.
Oops, suitably chastised and 5USD lighter from bribe money so that 'everything was okay' we were on our way again. Annoyingly the place they chose to stop people also had some staggering views but I felt it wouldn't fit the worried wife profile if I was off taking photos while my husband was being told off by the police. Next time, next time, those pictures are mine!
About an hour on we stopped again for some rice paddies at the feet of two mountains with their tops shrouded in clouds. Magical, I couldn't believe our luck with the scenery, it was all so green!
The sun was still shining when we rolled up in Tulamben, unfortunately for us we discovered a slow puncture and Djalma waited at the shop while it was repaired while I got on the back of another scooter to be taken to the company we had arranged our dives with. The room was nice and had a mosquito net that made it look like a four poster bed, cool!
Djalma rolled up found me snoozing on our bed, we went to a local warung for lunch and had some rather good fish with Bali sauce and rice (always rice!). I went back to the hotel to let my lunch go down and work on photos while Djalma went out to try and find the wreck we'd come to dive. The USAT Liberty is an American ship just 30 metres offshore and is covered in corals and home to schools of jack fish among other things. I went out to the black pebble beach to take some pictures and see if I could find him. To me the beach was beautiful, an interesting change to the usual white sandy stretches that we'd seen in the south. There were flowers on the rocks, guys fishing at one of the beach and the sun going down behind clouds covering a small outcrop to the other. It was lovely but not really for relaxing on. We kicked back for the rest of the evening, had dinner and went to bed after a couple of episodes of Dexter.
The next morning we had our first dive at 7am, after a quick briefing we walked down to beach in our gear and waded in.
It. Was. Amazing.
We had to swim against the current to get there and although the visibility was okay it wasn't great and all of a sudden the wreck was just there. Everything was covered with beautiful corals, hard and soft and teeming with life, it was magical. Quiet took my breath away. Our pictures weren't great because the sun was still low and we were more than 20 metres deep, but we could see what the camera couldn't. There were lots of small electric blue tubes that we'd never seen before, fans, bowls and lots of banner fish which we'd warned about steering clear of – it was mating season and they were territorial and known to attach divers who'd ventured to close and stayed too long.
We swam round the wreck taking our sweet time and marvelling at the life.
Back on the beach I struggled to take off my fins and get out the water, Djalma thought it was hilarious and filmed it, I must say it didn't put me in the best mood and I may have told him where to go. We had breakfast a little rest and then we were straight back in the water for our second dive, this time going through the middle of the wreck. We swam under some of the sides which gave me the creeps but it was fine going through the more open spaces. There was so much coral! Towards the end of the dive we ascended to just several metres deep and got really close to a huge school of jack fish, they looked mean but not mean enough to bite. We lost Djalma for a bit when he had the camera and took a million pictures and shot a couple of videos of the school but his air was running out and then our dive was over.
Bubbling with excitement at having seen such a great dive site we had showers and were soon on our bike again this time heading west along the coast to the next dive site in Permuteran. The road was good, it followed the coast although there weren't many spectacular views, just a few minutes out of Tulamben our hastily (and shoddily) repaired puncture made itself know again and we had to wheel the bike back a couple of kilometres to get the inner tube replaced, fortunately it didn't need repairing again after that. We drove for several hours until with just twenty minutes to go before reaching town the heavens opened and we got drenched.
We drove slowly through the coastal town, the road snaking round the ins and outs of various headlands making it rather precarious on our pencil thin wheels. We made our way to the cheapest of hotels in the area. Djalma with his impressive and unrelenting bargaining technique got the price down from 150 rupiahs (15USD and 2-3x our usual room rate) to 70 rupiahs. We ate with some of the bus drivers who also use the guest-house and tucked into the best Gado-Gado we've ever had.
The next day we were collected at 9am and driven to our dive sites for the day. We met a Russian couple who were also diving and we chatted for the hour to the small jetty where we got a long boat out to Menjangan Island.
The sea was rather choppy and we had to do a back roll entry into the water. I wasn't overly familiar with these and definitely not in choppy water, I think it's fair to say I was rather scared. Our guide for the two dives also neglected to brief us at all, when I asked what the dive plan he waved to the wall and said 'we go that way', he didn't mention that we would be swimming against the current and that because we were stopping at the beach (and the boat wasn't picking us up) we didn't have much time to hang around and smell the coral. So in we went and as soon as we got under the surface it was fine, hard work but fine. The coral was beautiful and plentiful, so much stuff grew everywhere and on top of each other, it was like a team of hyper active six year olds had seen to the decoration and lay out. There were plenty of big beautiful fans as well (I'm writing this without access to the internet otherwise I'd have a look and tell you what they're called) unfortunately our guide thought it was perfectly okay to pinch and shake them, it was horrible. Having dived with some rather wonderful instructors – our first one in Dahab, Matt and then Ivan on the live-aboard, both of whom had such respect and love for their jobs and their respective offices that diving with a local who treated it like any old place of work was really sad. When we got out of the water I said that it wasn't okay to do these things, that the place was so beautiful and that he should be trying to keep it that way, Djalma who was much calmer (and didn't think the guy was an incompetent douche) put across in a much nicer way.
We had lunch on the boat, rice and chicken fried in various spices and then went for a little walk across the island where I vented my frustration and anger built up from anxiety and being scared. We got back in the boat and where dropped off in somewhat calmer waters to do our second and last dive.
We followed the wall which could hardly be called a wall – it was a series of small steps and twisted in and out undulating in the most spectacular way. Again, there were lots of corals, big fans and most impressively a huge school of banner fish. swam down and along the wall. You usually only see two or three together – they're rather territorial – but there were dozens all swimming along in the same direction, we swam with them for several minutes between the wall and the fish, it was quite amazing. Towards the end of the dive we were closer to the surface where there was more light and lots of small colourful reef fish, it made us think that the guys who were snorkelling didn't have it so bad after all.
Back in the boat we reached the jetty and were driven back to our home stay, we got back on our little scooter and in much better weather headed back the way we'd come. We planned to stay at Lovina, a relaxed sea side town with plenty of cheaper hotels and restaurants but we decided to head South and try to get to Munduk before dark. We were given some directions from a friendly Arabic guy and following his directions we navigated the small country roads, although to be fair there weren't many to choose or get lost in, and wound our way up into the hills.
We stopped part way up next to a lady selling Jack fruit and took some pictures of the cornfields blending into the hills behind dotted with palm trees, lovely. After several stops thinking that we'd made it we finally arrived at the tail end of Munduk a small town in the hills on the rise because of the trekking and walking opportunities there. After the usual search for a place to sleep, Djalma came up trumps with a guest-house in the process of being finished.
It was easily the most beautiful place we've stayed in – the rooms were still being finished and had bare concrete floors, but what really set this place apart was the garden and the views. Sitting between the short wall, an abundance of flowers with the green grass and our room behind us, we watched the sun disappear behind the hills, almost over the sea. We decided that we'd more than earned a beer and so we shared a couple of Bintang while we watched the sun go down and marvelled out how fortunate we were to make it there that evening. The lovely old guy who ran the almost hotel cooked us some dinner, but not before he's completely sold me on a local dish, special Balinese food, he then went to the kitchen to find that his wife's sister wasn't there and so the special Balinese food couldn't be had. We had instant noodles instead. They were good though and after two beers we would have though anything was wonderful. We said goodnight to the mosquitoes and went to sleep under a huge duvet in the most comfortable bed for the best nights sleep.
In the morning we even had hot showers! Can you believe the luxury!? Breakfast was small but delicious, someone, probably the wife's sister had batted some chunks of banana and had made some small green Balinese cakes sprinkled with freshly grated coconut and rich mountain honey, washed down with coffee (and plenty of water – two beers being quite a lot these days) it was an excellent start to another day. The view was just as spectacular in the morning as in the evening and I had to tear myself from all the flowers to get back on the bottom breaker of a bike.
Our route South took us all the way back to Ubud, that Tuesday we clocked over 180km, I'm still surprised we were able to walk at the end of the day. We did pack a lot in though and it was a gorgeous day for driving, especially through the Central mountains of Bali.
Leaving Munduk behind we took our mini hangovers East and drove through winding roads to get to the three lakes and the temple on the lake. I cannot describe just how gorgeous the drive was, the sun was out, the sky was blue and the road sat atop a ridge and looked out over everything, most of which was hidden behind trees and towering corn in green field. We didn't realise this but we had chosen a particularly good day to visit the temple, all over the place temples were decorated with long yellow grasses stapled into swaying arcs of gold, rustling in the breeze, it wasn't a holiday for the island but temple specific celebrations, and plenty of people were out in their “Sunday best”.
We stopped to take pictures of the first two lakes from a vantage point ringed with flowering trees and shrubs and then followed the road down and into the crater made by the ring of the dormant volcanoes.
Going down the crater stretched out into fields with clusters of houses and shops grouped along the roads, to our immediate left green fields lay just before the edge of the volcanic rim. Pure magic.
We parked up inside the car park and left our bags with the very smart guards – also looking spiffy for the occasion in their layered sarongs, blacks shirts and chequered hats. We followed the stream of well dressed temple goers down a path also lined with small shrines and into the main temple grounds. Because this was a holy day tourists weren't allowed into the scared areas, it didn't really matter too much because the real attraction was the location and all the beautiful people.
I think I've said before that the Balinese temples we've seen so far don't seem to have an obvious centre, the same was true here, there were several different sections which were closed to us, people disappeared in here balancing heavily laden trays of offerings and came out smiling and empty handed. The real star was the temple actually on the lake; there were plenty of the tall golden grass rods for extra decoration and swathes of fresh golden fabric draped round the deities, all of it set against a backdrop of the volcanic ridge. It was spectacular, beautiful, magical.
We wanted to have a little ride around the lake on the swan peddaloes but they cost more than a days rental for our scooter so we decided to leave it. The guys who were renting them out looked like they were having lots of fun on the bird shaped boats though, the boss had to be called back from the water to see whether he would give us a little discount.
We waited for the sun to come out from behind the clouds and then took photos of the lily pads and the odd bird before getting out of the sun. We headed back towards the main temple grounds and sat and watched the stream of families, well the female parts at least, all looking so beautiful in white lace blouses and colourful sarongs, herding small children who looked every bit as smart. Fearing the clouds and imminent bad weather we decided to start heading back, our little breakfast had run out so we ate a couple of packets of crackers and then hit the road again.
We drove for a couple of hours before stopping at a lookout point over rice paddies stacked either side of a river. Of course, it was beautiful. I wonder if I'll ever see enough green in my lifetime, I hope not. After stretching our legs and taking some pictures of the tiny little workers doing their thing in the fields we braved the seat again and got back on the road.
We were following the road to Pupuan but turned off before getting there, taking the road to Medewi instead, this road took us straight through a tree. Bunut Bolong is a sacred place, the Dutch were responsible for the road through the tree, the road itself costs lots of Balinese lives and cut through the living tree, there's now a shrine there. Djalma strapped the camera to the bike and drove through the tree several times to get some video footage and I took plenty of photos.
We continued on the road to Medewi and took a tiny dirt road off the main route. It took us through jewel green rice paddies and it touch and go whether we would find a route to the sea, we could hear it and we could see it but we couldn't see a path there. We did find one and Djalma stripped down to his trunks, this man needs no encouraging! I waited and sweated and took photos of the grass and the numerous dragonflies before giving in and walking down to take a look at the sea.
The surf looked quite impressive, the beach was quite silty and not really for sunbathing, no surprise it was deserted. Feeling much refreshed Djalma reluctantly got back into his clothes and we followed the road East along the South coast passing by Balian Beach (our first stop in Bali) and some of the most beautiful rice paddies in Bali. This time we weren't in a minivan with six other people and so I didn't feel at all guilty when we pulled over to take some photos.
The road along this stretch was horrible, save for rice fields I would have rather left out this part of our trip, unfortunately we missed the turn off for a small road directly to Ubud so we joined the stinking, slow trucks, the space hungry cars and dare devil bikers who thought that it was a fine idea to road up alongside and have a chat while doing thirty/forty kmp/h. The trucks were easily the worst, they slowed down all the traffic and farted out black fumes that threatened to choke any and everyone. We were stuck behind several and took our chances with the rest of the road users when it came to overtaking, Djalma was fantastic at getting us out from behind these belching behemoths as well as negotiating the potholes and the oncoming overtaking traffic.
We stopped at a bank and asked for directions and got on the road to Ubud. By this point I was ready to sever my body from the neck down ad leave it all behind. My back was aching from keeping the bag upright, my knees were beyond stiff and sore, my neck hurt from keeping my head back far enough that my big helmet didn't keep smacking Djalma's, and my bottom, Sweet Mary, my arse. My bum hurt so so SO much, after four days on the scooter it was tender but this long day on the back of the scooter was just too much. Each time we stopped to take photos I would clench and unclench my cheeks just to get the blood flowing again, surprisingly it was only a darker shade of pink (not purple or blue) by the time we eventually arrived back in Ubud.
We drove through the fields around Ubud following signs to Ubud but not actually finding the town for quite a while, after such a long day it made us laugh and then cry a bit. When we got to town I got off to walk and it was so good I could have cried with relief. We followed a guy to a cheap guest-house and I looked in the mirror for the first time since the mornings and saw the state of my face. I looked like a tramp that hadn't been facially intimate with soap for days, to make it worse I had scrubbed my face with the end of my sarong before asking for directions at the bank, all this had done was move the dirt about so it gathered in patches, notably my eyebrows. Delicious. We had much needed showers and them went to our favourite Padang restaurant for a damn good feed and chocolate ice creams on the walk back to the hotel.
The last days in Bali
18th - 20th January 2012
That morning we were all packed, our tickets to Sanur booked when I asked that stomach tingling question 'have you got our passports?'. We'd spent four days driving round Bali without our passports and no idea that they were missing, what a rookie mistake. We searched through our bags, unpacked them, repacked them, searched through each others bags until I suggested that Djalma go back to the first hotel we'd stayed in in Ubud, I'd asked whether they'd had any rooms the previous evening when we'd arrived but the guy had told me they were and obviously hadn't recognised me to give me the passports back then. After I had unpacked the bags and checked them a third time, Djalma strolled through the door looking relieved, we'd had to cancel our tickets and rebook the shuttle bus for midday but we had our passports so it was all good. We chilled out in the room making resolutions to keep a much better handle on things in the future and sending thanks to God.
Midday came round and we got in the minibus, the only two passengers to Sanur and arrived in hour. Djalma dropped me off at a local restaurant where I tucked into a much needed fish lunch and looked after the bags while he went to find a cheap hotel for the next two nights.
We didn't do anything worthy of note over the next two days, we decided not to go back to Kuta and try to change my flip-flops, they were both printed with the same size but the left flip-flop is much larger than the right. Instead, I worked out and worked on photos, we watched episodes of Dexter, ate amazing food at a local warung near the beach (lots of shredded chicken, fried chicken skin and veggies) and bought some very exciting snorkelling gear. Shopping for snorkelling gear is almost as good as buying shoes (or maybe it's been so long I've forgotten how good shoe shopping is...) we got snorkels, some very comfortable masks and I got a pair of small fins. We had to change Djalma's mask when the first one wasn't big enough for his forehead but aside from that it was all good, we checked out our stuff in the sea but didn't stay long because there was nothing to see but the sand in the water.
Early on Friday morning we got a taxi to the airport, three hours early for our flight. We sat and waited outside McDonald's eating more crackers but this time with bananas and mangostines. We got through check in but when it came to passing through passport control we were informed that we'd overstayed our month visas by one day and that it was going to cost us $20 each and that if we didn't pay they would cancel our tickets (and presumably put us in prison). After a little fuss we paid up and left but not before telling them to put the signs about over staying on visas somewhere visible when arriving in the country. Feeling a bit wallet raped we sat and waited for our flight to Dili to be called, feeling more and more excited about visiting Timor-Leste as the minutes ticked by.
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