Bali Bound

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Indian Outsourcing

We woke pretty early in the morning in Melaca to catch a bus to KL. We were trying to make it back to the India Visa Service Center well before the 2pm deadline. The Indian embassy has outsourced (the humor is not lost on me) its visa processing and we needed to jump through lots of hoops to get a visa. We needed to drop off our passports to have the visa processed. At this point, we had merely been waiting for our clearance. Eric checked online, and his passport cleared within two days. We were excited to be getting this off our to do list. Unfortunately, our first hurdle was that Eric’s passport was cleared in two days, but after seven days, mine still had not passed. They were unsure why. They expected it to be cleared that day and said it would not be a problem. The larger problem was that we were initially told we would be getting six month visas, which would allow us to receive the visa at the end of June and use them in October when we planned on being in India. Eric was only cleared for three months, again with no explanation why. After spending an extra week in Malaysia that we did not plan on doing, including a great deal of that in KL, we were left with no visas for India. The girl who helped us, although friendly, gave us misinformation at every chance she had. She told us we could get the clearance now, but then just fly back to KL the week before we head to India to receive the actual visa and it would only take 24 hours. Her supervisor, who we waited about 45 minutes to see, also did not help. We found out this later 24 hour option would not work, we would need to apply all over again, and spend another week in KL. We were deflated. And, it was the first time I was truly upset on the M.P. Eric tip toed around me for a good hour afraid I would fly off the handle because I was so mad at the service center. We stopped for curry, of all things, right near the service center and solemnly made our way back to the hotel. I fumed on Facebook that night, and received condolences from many of my friends who are of Indian heritage, including Lolita who apologized saying “I’m sorry my peeps are giving you so much trouble.”

Hibernation

In Chicago, occasionally we will hibernate for a weekend. Sometimes this is in the winter, when it seems obvious that we should pretty much stay the entire weekend in the condo and have all food delivered. Sometimes, though, it is in the middle of the summer. The cause may be too much business travel or too much stress at work and we just want to veg. It may take the form of spending from Friday to Sunday night going to nearby restaurants, our usual Mexican place, Caesars, for mid-day margaritas, nachos, and fajitas, followed by a Saturday afternoon nap, or hitting Clarke Street Dog, or having Thai Aroma delivered. It may involve catching up on Tivo, Facebooking, multiple episodes of Arrested Development, or a new movie from Netflix. Sometimes it involves me billing twenty hours between leaving work on a Friday and going back in on Monday morning, all from the comfort of my couch and in my pajamas. Sometimes we will be home, but will venture as far as sitting on the back porch while I bill and Eric works (or pretends to work to make me feel better about working on the weekend). Regardless, we spend a decent number of weekends a year in full or partial hibernation. We kind of did the same thing for our last two nights in KL.

After the Indian visa fiasco I was the crankiest I have been since before we left the US. We checked into the Sheraton for our last two nights before finally taking advantage of the 60 day visa for Indonesia and flying from KL to Bali. The only thing on our schedule for the two days was to drop off our passports and then pick them up about twenty four hours later with our neat little Indian Visa stamped inside. We even planned on a late afternoon flight out of KL on the third day in case we needed extra time for the visa service center. Well, since those plans went to hell in a hand basket, we arrived at the hotel cranky, hot, and tired. We had walked from the bus station to the visa service center, then to the light rail, and from there to the hotel, all with our backpacks with us.

We realized the following day that we had not left the hotel for a full 24 hours. We had free wireless, free happy hour, free breakfast, etc. After our happy hour we thought about heading out to a Malay food stall nearby, but neither of us was hungry. Our new rule is “don’t eat out of boredom, only when we are hungry.” So, we went to bed. After breakfast we made our way down to the pool for a few hours. We grabbed lunch nearby and thought about doing some shopping or going to see a movie. But, there were no movies we wanted to see and we did not want to have to take the monorail to another mall. We had been in plenty of malls during our stays in KL. So, I took a nap in the room and caught up on some news (Iranian elections were the top story). We did happy hour and were not hungry again afterwards. In the morning, we had our breakfast, packed, spent time online, and went to the airport (which, by the way, took four hours from leaving the hotel until take off). We only left the hotel for a little more than an hour in 48 hours. We already spent a week in KL, really had nothing else we wanted to see, were upset about India, and enjoyed the lush accommodations at the Sheraton. Don’t hate us. It was some well needed R&R before heading for almost 6 weeks in Indonesia!

Waikiki Bali Style

We arrived at night at the airport on the southeastern tip of Bali. We were told we would get a better deal on a taxi if we walked out the exit to the airport instead of grabbing one from the taxi line. Because it was dark, we felt a little silly walking through the airport parking lot, past the toll booth, and onto what was described in the book as the “main airport road.” It did not seem that “main” or busy to me, but on our second attempt, we were able to score a taxi that agreed to use the meter and estimated our trip would cost half what it would at the taxi stand. Score!

I don’t know what I expected in this area of Bali. It is the built up resort area surrounding the airport, usually referred to as Kuta. The road we took to our guesthouse had various Hindu temples, food stalls, tourist centered restaurants, gift shops, and traffic. During the first part of the ride I could not even tell which side of the road the Indonesians drove on. The taxi driver was sitting on the right side of the car, but he was driving on both sides of the road. Sometimes the road appeared to be one lane and sometimes two. I felt pretty lucky even to arrive at our hotel in one piece. He dropped us off in the parking lot and we ventured inside. The first thing we saw was the restaurant and we asked where reception was. The lady pointed down a dark path with no end in sight. The guesthouse had about 80 units spread around a pool with a lush tropical feel. Units were separated into individual bungalows, single story units with four rooms in a circle and two story motel style rooms. All were individually decorated and unique so that they had rooms ranging from about USD $20 to $150. Of course, we saw all of this in the morning in the light of day. That night we kept venturing a little farther into the dark jungle abyss, and then would come to a point where we could go in three different directions, with no signs telling us which way to go. We would then return to the restaurant and ask for more detailed directions. On the third try, I finally convinced the lady to walk us herself because we could not see more than a foot in front of us.

We checked into one of the almost bungalow style rooms with no air conditioning. It was pretty neat with an outdoor patio and an outdoor, but mostly enclosed, bathroom. There were no glass panels on the windows. They were just open with wood bars to prevent break in. Looked like we would be bunking with the mossies each night, and who knew what other creatures were out there. We just dropped our stuff off and went to hit some place to eat. Almost immediately next store was a “warung” or Bali style food stall. It was mentioned in the Lonely Planet and it was pretty full so we took the last of the ten tables and ordered Nasi Campur - a mix of whatever they have that day served on rice with a spicy sambal chili sauce. When the dishes arrived, they were just that - some vegetables, fried tofu, fried shredded chicken, a fried soy cake, hard boiled egg, and a side of vegetable curry. Generally the rice is warm, but the food on top is not. I did not know what to expect. We enjoyed it, but it was like nothing we had eaten before. The toppings on the rice had a unique flavor to it and I could not put my finger on it. With a generous dollop of the spicy sambal it became quite a meal. The best part, it was cheap cheap. I think we found our place to eat in Bali.

When we returned to our room at Three Brothers, the fan had stopped working. Eric managed to find his way back to reception and they showed him a different room. It was on the lower level of a two story building with probably eight units. It was larger and nicer than our last, but had the Ricky and Lucy style two twin beds. There were mossie nets because with no air conditioning, it had several windows that were just open to the outside. We had an even larger outdoor bathroom, but one that was fully enclosed on each side, which was more than could be said for the last one. When I reviewed this place on Trip Advisor, it received mostly good reviews except one couple whose open bathroom could be seen from the unit next door, which made shower time interesting. They also commented on the space between the bottom of the door and the floor. It was a pretty big space and one night a rat got in their room, and apparently into their bed. I was on guard. We placed a towel over the opening under our front door. Our bathroom door fully shut, and no one was seeing into our shower area. I did keep my eyes open for buggies in the bathroom at night though. The mossie nets did not work too well. They were misshaped and did not lay right on the bed, and had enormous holes in them. Instead, Eric lit a mossie coil next to my bed at night. The first night I did not sleep well, I kept imagining I was getting eaten alive by mossies. Despite the heat, I spent the entire night with almost 100% of my body covered with the sheet, just leaving part of my face out to breathe. By the morning, I felt that I had about 10 mosquito bites on my face alone. I must have been hallucinating, because looking in the mirror, there was nothing there. One night, sitting on our balcony, I did see one of the offending rats mentioned by the couple on Trip Advisor. I think it was more of a mouse than a rat. It certainly did not look as beefy as the rats I have seen in Washington, D.C. or at that restaurant at the beach in Vietnam. I just pointed it out to Eric and he was impressed I did not break out with a girly scream. But, what are you going to do? We just plugged up our door and hoped it did not learn to climb to the top of our windows, to the open part. Aside from these issues, the place was pretty nice. We spent a good deal of time splitting our day between the beach and the pool, and had a free Indonesian breakfast each morning of black sticky rice, coconut milk, and bananas, yum.

Surf’s Up

We walked the few blocks to the beach from our hotel the next morning. The image I had in my mind of Bali was beautiful tropical beaches surrounded by lush landscape and terraced rice fields. The area surrounding the airport, Kuta, is not like this at all. We stayed a little north of Kuta, in Legian. Legian was described in the book as less of a party town - once travelers to Bali get married, they vacation in Legian. Once they have kids, they go one step farther north to Seminyak. We were just where we should be. The beach was vast, one of the widest stretches we have seen. The sand was pretty clean too, not like other beaches we have been to, but it had a thicker density to it. And, some of the stretches of beach had more black sand near the edges. What I noticed as soon as we stepped out was two things: (1) surfers; (2) AJ Hackett.

I read that legislation prevents any new building over about 3-4 stories in Bali. This is meant to preserve the beach and the natural landscape and to prevent the area from looking like Miami Beach or Waikiki. This is probably the only thing keeping it from looking like Waikiki. The only thing marring the skyline of the beach surrounding Kuta is a giant metal tower, which looks like a half built and abandoned radio tower. Instead, it was the platform for the AJ Hackett bungy jump. AJ Hackett obviously rexeived an exception to the zoning ordinance allowing him to build the highest structure for miles around. Every time I walked by not only did I scorn AJ Hackett for desecrating the beautiful landscape, but I felt sick in my stomach remembering my first bungy experience. Trauma.

The rest of the beach area screamed surfers and western overdevelopment - surf schools, cheesy surf shops, Quicksilver, Billabong, and western restaurants, including Bubba Gump Shrimp and Chi Chi’s (I would not step foot in a Chi Chi’s in the US, let alone in Indonesia) radiate from Kuta, becoming a little more sparse as you head north. There were chic clothing stores and boutiques on every road alongside cheap souvenir stalls selling t-shirts, beaded jewelry, and sarongs. We also noticed a huge Australian presence. We realized that Bali is to Australians as Cancun is to Americans. Cheap food, cheap beer, and beach life. If they built high rise hotels it would be quite reminiscent of Waikiki Beach in Hawaii. Same same but different. I can see why the surfers converge, though. The waves were a pretty nice size, which meant swimming was almost impossible. There were very few areas where swimming was allowed, and the tide stayed pretty far out with a large shallow wading area. This meant we needed to wade out about 50-100 yards to get water up over our waists. But that was nearly impossible because the currents were so strong I could feel the water pressing against my calves puling the skin taught. This was the complete opposite of the Perhentian Islands in Malaysia. We found a pretty quiet area of the beach our first day and settled into some rented beach chairs to enjoy the view, and to listen to the waves crash on the beach. It was quite relaxing, although not what I imagined in my head.

We spent four nights in Legian, trying to decide where to go next. We went to our nearby Warung every day for Nasi Campur and some of the tastiest fried chicken since Phnom Penh. We walked through the neighborhoods, stopping in souvenir stands, and even hit the mall to buy some new bathing suits. I felt like I was relaxing, I think because we had no schedule and plenty of time to see the island. Six weeks is a long time to explore an island that is probably the size of New Jersey. Our favorite thing to do, though, was to see the sunset on the beach. We went out each night to one of the beach bars, which is a term I use loosely. Entrepreneurs roll out coolers on wheels with beers and soda. They set up a few umbrellas and bring a stack of plastic chairs. As people come by throughout the day the chairs are set up wherever you would like to sit. We found one couple who ran a beer stall named Sammy and Suzi. They were friendly, introducing themselves to us, asking us where we were from, etc. I know that this was their gimmick, but it worked, because we continued to go back to their stall even though their prices were the same as elsewhere on the beach. It also helped that their beer was cold and served in a koozie, the served peanuts with roasted garlic, and gave us a little plastic table for our beers. The sunsets were beautiful with one reaching near perfection, with the large golden sun setting quickly into the sea, with no clouds blocking our view. It was relaxing, to say the least. Thus far, we were enjoying Bali, but were looking forward to getting out of the built up Waikiki style beach into the country side a bit more.

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Photos

Our Guesthouse
The archictecture on the grounds of Three Brothers. Not bad for USD $30 a night.

Bali Breakfast
Black sticky rice, bananas, and coconut milk

Nasi Campur
At our favorite Warung

Legian Beach in Bali
AJ Hackett is down the beach about a mile.

Cartwheel
Eric was trying to do a cartwheel like the little kids on the beach. He wasn't even drunk when he did this.

Corn on the Cob
On the beach