Blogs from Balian, Bali, Indonesia, Asia

Arriving in Bali by ferry from Ketapang in Java we were given the feeling of entering a completely different country. Wide paved roads (mostly) and fewer motorcycles; noisy mosques replaced (hoorah!) by ornate temples or 'puras' and shrines at every turn. Eve commented that there was colour everywhere, in the bright cloths wrapped around the temple statues, in her favourite flowering frangipani trees and the elegantly dressed women (and men!) carrying offerings on their heads. Balian Beach The Lonely Planet guide needs to be updated to record the growing number of guesthouses and restaurants appearing and still being built here, to cater for the surfing crowd. For the time being though it is still a quiet and friendly village to stay, with stunning sea views and sunsets. Our bungalow was in typical balinese style, with bamboo ... read more

I just wrote a really long blog entry, but it was all deleted accidentally. Arg. So I'm going to write a more condensed version of what I wrote.... enjoy! I was fortunate to be here to experience Nyepee, New Years day in the Balinese calendar. It is a quiet day where no one is to leave their houses, no electricity is allowed, they fast all day and it is meant to be a contemplative and meditative day. They prepare for Nyepee for days. It's a huge holiday. The idea is to get rid of the evil spirits before the new year so they can start fresh. A few days before Nyepee, they each go to the beach wearing traditional Balinese clothing, wash their hands and face in the water, give an offering, say a blessing and ... read more

“Twenty five years man. I’ve seen a lot of change.” I looked across at Jack, Jack the Hawaiian, Jack the man—my idol. “Bali is beautiful to this day, but 25 years ago it was a land of mystery. And before than… I can only imagine.” “So what’s changed?” I asked, forking a slice of banana pancake into my mouth. The fruity syrup hit my taste buds with explosive rapture. Across the table from Laura and me, Jack hovered over an unshelled egg. With a thrust of his spoon he chopped the globule in half. I expected it to ooze a sinewy clear fluid and mix its yellow severed yolk, but instead his shiny metallic weapon of choice proved breakfast to be hardboiled. Underneath Jack’s massive shoulders and large Neolithic head, the egg looked like a small ... read more