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Published: January 31st 2009
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The Puri Dewa Bharata Losman
Courtyard garden from our balcony Beautiful Bali Saturday 31st January 2009
Last Saturday we were snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef and now we are sitting in a shady tropical Balinese garden; it requires quite a cultural adjustment. We are staying in a “losman” (small traditional hotel around a courtyard garden) in Seminyak on the south west coast of Bali about 5 kilometres north of the tourist hub of Kuta. It is beautiful, laid back, chilled, hot, humid, and exhausting! The hotel is adorned with stone sculptures, wooden Hindu goddesses covered in gilt, woven bamboo screens and wooden roof tiles. It is old; a little jaded around the edges, cheap and absolutely charming, as are the owners and staff, charming that is, not old and jaded! We are on the second floor with views to the mountains (only seen between the thunder and downpours) and the noise of the street (motor bikes, tooting horns and chaotic traffic) are just a background hum. It also has free WIFI and good coffee so we are in heaven.
On arrival at Dempasar airport on Thursday night in torrential rain we were bombarded with taxi touts and the general expected mayhem. We eventually got to our hotel soaked
The grand losman entrance
Looked a bit spooky on arrival (at night in the thunderstorm) and knackered and just fell in to bed and slept. The next morning, yesterday, it was most disconcerting because we didn’t actually know where we were. I need to know where I am in relation to the rest of the world, a dot on a map and orientation. Without any sun we had no idea where the sea was because we didn’t know which way was west and the rain masked any land marks from view (we only saw the mountain views this morning). We missed the bus to town (Kuta) so, having asked to be pointed in the general direction of the sea we set forth and walked to the beach then southwards along the shoreline to Kuta. It was a long way in such humid conditions (I think I need to get all of my hair cut off because it is permanently wet with either rain, sweat of just general humidity).
Kuta is a frenetic place with motorbikes weaving between pedestrians through small alleys called “gangs”, loud Aussie bare-footed tourists, and great food (chicken stir fry with sticky rice for a pound). However, it is considered “quiet’ as far as tourism goes, being the wet season but
mostly due to world economic recession. The tourist trade here hasn’t really recovered yet, according to locals, from a series of events that crucified it a few years back, the Jakarta and Bali bombings of 2002 and 2004, the tsunami in 2004 (which only really affected Sumatra but it put some tourists off the whole country) political unrest in eastern Indonesia and the recently introduced 30day visa (it used to be 60 days). The memorial in Kuta to the Bali bombing dominates the main street, Jalan Legian, at the top of Poppy Gang II. It is opposite the site (still empty) of the Sari Club disco where so many people lost their lives. It is a moving spot, more so than even a war memorial; these mainly young people were not soldiers, they were out for an evening’s entertainment, many on just a two week’s annual holiday. The names engraved in black marble represent many nationalities, the largest tolls being Australian 88 deaths, Indonesian 38 and English 23; life is so very fragile.
Today we are packing our rucksacks and setting off to Ubud towards the mountains north east from here. It is about one hour by bus which
will take us away from the coastal strip where, weather permitting, we’ll see some of the countryside.
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