No tourists, but no incredible views either

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Geo: -8.51927, 115.263

Rain? What do yuo mean rain? It's the hot season. And we are booked onto a sightseeing tour? The rain will be accompanied by low-lying cloud? What wonderful news! Off we go!

We hopped into our car at 9am and headed North, out of Blackpool and headed towards the towns of Mas and Celuk - local craft villages where Stacey could buy a carved mask and we could both buy a ring. We stopped at a Hindu temple nearby and were told by our brusque driver that we had half an hour there. It was beautiful, with intricate carvings and lush green grass in the courtyards. Our driver appeared from nowhere and ushered us out, leaving us feeling like naughty schoolkids, and we wondered if he was going to be doing it all day. Fortunately, it turned out that we had not outstayed our welcome, but an approaching cremation ceremonial procession had caught his eye and he had rushed into the temple to find us!

Cremation ceremonies in Bali do not take place shortly after death as in Western society. Due to the enormous expense required to cremate a relative here in Indonesia, many families group together and pool their resources to fund one large celebration. Towers are purchased to transport the bodies to the pyre. Because of the wait for the money to be raised, the body is often interred for a number of years before the celebration can begin! The procession makes its way, with the (empty) towers followed by entire family groups, to the cemetary where the bodies are disinterred (I hope you're not eating as you read!) and placed in the towers. Built from paper, the towers are decorated with paint, sequins, statues and brightly coloured, a priest rides half-way up and the body is contained in the lower section. The number of tiers represents the relative importance of the person whose body is held within.

Once the body is onboard (so to speak!), the procession winds its way towards the cremation spot. The tower is held aloft, and the bearers make it their job to spin the tower this way and that, trying to confuse the spirit of the person inside to make it difficult for them to find their way home. This should make it easier for the spirit to pass to the afterlife. The priest halfway up, clings on for dear life and sprays the procession with water. The whole tower is then burned, and the ashed scattered into the sea to allow the spirit to move on. The entire event seemed to be a joyous and celebratory occasion, one filled with happy confusion and colour.

Our taxi took us to see traditional Batik dyeing in progress, woodcarvings being painstakingly produced and raw silver being processed into beautiful jewellery. After a lot of haggling, Stacey and I bought gorgeous rings and Stacey became the proud owner of a Balinese mask and some very fetchin Salad tongs! Being caught in a tropical rainshower meant we were late for out driver, but far from being angry, he was waiting for us with an umbrella each. The darling!

The rest of our day passed by in fits of laughter as our Kamikaze driver carreered around hairpin bends with stomach churning drops on either side! We passed by acres of rice terraces: giant's steps cut into the mountainside and carpeted in a lush green; glistening lakes surrounded by jungle and climbed higher and higher into the Balinese mountains. Once the rain had stopped and the cloud had dispersed, we could see the peak of Bali's volcano and finally made a stop at the entry point to the 15m waterfall just outside Munduk. Our driver told us to wander off to the waterfall and head back to the car, so we followed the signposts. We followed the path further down a steep slope and into jungle encroaching on either side. We followed it further, and further and further. 15 minutes later we arrived in front of a thundering torrent of water, which seemed to have been washed down the mountainside. It was breathtaking. Sadly, after 5 minutes there, we knew we had to leave, or risk our driver dragging his (altogether older) body down the steep slopes. The walk up was... tough! But we emerged at the top, sweating and panting and ready for a relaxing sunset in the South West.

The driving did not get any better until our driver changed places with his "trainee". Man he was much better, He took corners as though he was in a car and not on a moped, which was nice for the sicky twins in the back! When we arrived at Tanah Lot, I read out the passage in the Lonely Planet, which stated that all sense of spirituality has been lost by the thousands of tourists that now flock there for the sunset. Well, we weren't interested in spirituality to be honest. We wanted a photo we could blow up onto canvas. It was very kind of the sun to dip below the low-lying cloud hovering on the horizon. Never mind!

An hour later we were back in Sanur ready for dinner and rest. Both of which we enjoyed!

The next day, we woke to rain and cloud. It soon cleared, and after looking at the beach (brown rather than the longed-for white sand) we decided our pool was a much nicer place to chill out for our last day of sunshine before the endless grey British winter loomed ahead of us. After reading 2 books and enjoying more Bruschetta and chips (yum!) it was time for packing and dinner and a very early start for our flight to KL.

Would I rush back to Bali? It's not in my top ten, that's for sure. Rest easy Hoi An, you've got it in the bag! xxx

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