It Was a Game of Two Halves.

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The heading being my attempt to paraphrase one of THE great rugby league commentary clichés and superimpose it as a metaphor for Penny’s significant birthday sojourn back in Bali.
THE FIRST HALF
The away side (aka us tourist types), came out of the blocks with all cylinders firing up in Ubud. Our hotel was textbook Balinese style crawling out of the surrounding jungle and on the periphery of Indonesian Main St rice paddies.
Penny was mighty impressed with these digs and was looking like she could easily acclimatise to this level of accommodation on all our trips. Note to wife: DON’T GET TOO USED TO IT!
So what does one do in Ubud for 4 days? Most of the time the husband follows the better half into every conceivable shop muttering inane responses along the lines of:
“That’s nice”, or
“Which ever one you prefer”.
Far more exhilerating, for me at least, were the jaunts through the rice fields, even if the weather didn’t always co-operate. Those terraces are a work of art and a beacon on how to cultivate every spare inch of arable land. There are also some nifty looking losmens plumped in the middle of those paddies. Sorry Penny, we’ll be sacrificing the Kamaneka 5 star Hotel for one of these family run abodes next time we’re in this ballpark.
There’s also a bevy of entertainment options available. Every night of the week somewhere would advertise live jazz, and not just some run-of-the-mill pseudo Balinese crooners whipping out a bunch of standards. These guys can play. Timing, however, was sometimes an issue. We were strolling past a particular little joint one balmy evening and heard some groovy sounds drifting out into the street. So up we rolled, ordered a couple of drinks and nestled into a stage-side table just in time for the band to thank the audience for coming along and “see you all next time”.
I also ventured a couple of “traditional” Balinese massages. Relaxing? Yes, but where was the pain? My masochistic side was crying out for some good old fashioned force. C’mon ladies, you’ve got elbows, USE EM!
Anyway, after our 4 days we went into half time with a commanding lead.
SECOND HALF
The home side must have received a severe tongue lashing from their Balinese coach during lemons and they came out with all guns blazing.
The wet season was meant to be a distant memory by now but if this blog was to have a soundtrack it would be Grace Jones’ “Walking in the Rain”, at least for the first 3 days. The winds were all over the place and the beach was doubling as “Tempe Tip by the Sea”.
The drastic increase in the number of tourists here also translated in an increase in the hassle-meter by the touts. A “no thanks” in Ubud doesn’t translate as effectively in Kuta/Legian.
Still, the people do generally somehow manage to maintain a smiling demeanour despite the blitzkrieg of western crass over the last 35 years or so. An exception to this rule is the Balinese surfer. A lot of them have developed industrial sized chips on their shoulders. They can be ultra protective and farcically and irrationally aggressive. Stories are now doing the rounds of assaults and subsequent arrests of over-zealous Balo surf Nazis. Combine that less than tranquil ambience with the contaminated water and the transport logistics and it’s little wonder foreign surfers are looking further afield than Bali for their aquatic fix. These guys had better tread lightly or risk killing the goose that has laid their golden egg.
A far more “relaxing” marine adventure involved the fish spa experiment. Stick your lower legs into a
tank of water whereby hundreds, if not thousands, of little black fish resembling large tadpoles
attack the flesh and commence a nibbling away at any available dead skin. I’m not certain I actually
enjoyed the sensation but I couldn’t help ponder the life of an animal that survived on nothing but
dead human flesh. “MMMMM that’s sweet tinia”. At the same time a potential practical joke
spawned with the thought of a sly piranha or two being snuck into the tanks just prior to some
unsuspecting tourist lowering their legs into the “tank of death”.
And that was Penny’s birthday. Another stretch of the same length and she’ll receive her letter from
the Monarch (unless of course the nation as a whole wises up and votes in a Republic beforehand).
Did we enjoy ourselves? Penny sure did but I reckon the two halves probably cancelled each other
out and we’ll need to play some extra time somewhere in the future to decide the issue. I know I’ve
said it before, “I don’t know if I’ll bother coming back”, but then I’ll probably say it again the next
time we pass through. Hold this space.

More images at:

www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com

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Photos

Monkey Forest, Ubud
Smile for the camera

Ubud
Rice Paddies