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Published: October 17th 2009
Occasionally on my many travels, plenty of travellers would ask me curiously what is the best place I have been to. Of course, this is a question that is extremely difficult to answer for many reasons. For one, you may have had an amazing experience in a place due to the people you happened to be with or just bump into. Perhaps it was due to your particular state of mind you were in at the the time or even something simple as that the weather was amazing that could even turn a dreary city into paradise. You could say it has fantastic beaches but you may not even like beaches or perhaps it has a great pub scene and you dont drink. What could possible make you judge a place in such a fashion.
Still, given the complications of putting a country or place at the absolute top of a list to come back to or never want to leave, one place that always popped into my mind was Bali.
It had been several years since I had placed the soles of my feet on the soft sandy beaches of this graceful and inviting location. I could say
I was feeling a little nervous and worried at whether coming back that it would greet me with the same freshness and friendliness that I felt all those years ago.
The airport of Ngurah Rai near Denpasar is an airport like no other, adorned with tacky seventies wood panelling and stone masked faces of the god Barong above phone boxes. Cheap incense and the sounds of the local jamalan made it feel like more like a friends house as opposed to an entry point into a country.
The first port of call was Kuta, the main tourist magnet of the island only about 10 minutes from the airport where I spent a lot of my time on my last trip here mainly due to the great local people that I met.
Little had changed since I had been here the last time, a few extra hotels had been put up but still the street vendors were the same as I had remembered, loud, boisterous and extremely anxious to make you buy their junk that they are selling you at whatever ridiculous price they think you may fall for.
The sellers here however are a little different
from other Asian countries as they normally have an excellent sense of humour and grace that most peddlers of cheap wares rarely have. On sale are beautiful batik style sarongs, cheesy t-shirts as well as many other souvenirs. Many bargains can be had here but be ready to haggle the price at least down to half the price they are offering.
Walking down the main street on the second day we had I arrived passed one guy who just called out “I Know you, MARKK! “ a guy whom I met the last time recognized me straight away even though I couldn recognize him and I am four years older and sport a beard that even one of my closest relatives wouldn recognize me. This is Bali..
He took me me to meet Eka my good friend who was now doing tattoos in an upmarket hotel on the main beach strip a far cry from his old little t-shirt painting stand on the main street. He told me that a lot had changed in the past years especially since the last bombing in mid �5 that many street sellers were forced out and that most of
his friends disbanded and went separate ways. With this I guess, went the trust with their own people which initially what made them to be such great friends with even the foreigners. I also met his 4 year old daughter named Lilly who was born not long after I left the island the last time I was here. I helped them through some tough times with a bit of extra cash that could pay for the delivery of their child and I was very flattered to see that had named her after my surname. But not all was good news, he also told me about what happened to all the other guys I had met the last time and where they are all now. It was interesting to hear the stories, I was very intrigued to know what happened to one guy named “Viva”. We actually got along so well to the point we travelled together to his native island of Kalimantan to see parts of remote Indonesia that I could never have hope to see otherwise. It was very sad to hear that he had just recently died of some unknown illness and the news put a big dampener
on the whole trip here.
The local cuisine was excellent with typical Indonesian dishes like Gado Gado ( Stir fry Vegetables in a Peanut sauce ) and the local classic Nasi Goreng. On top of this, they make all kinds of great western meals such as burgers, chips, pizzas and pastas that could rival the qualities of restaurants in their native homelands.
After a few days lazing around the hotel pool we decided to take a moped for a 5 day trip around the island because even though there are a lot of tour operators in Kuta, they are only for overnight stays that would mean back tracking for no reason. The bike lender mentioned that I should keep the strap of the key over the front mirror for a reasons that initially perplexed me but was later to find out.
It was loads of fun and at times quite scary to take on driving in such a madhouse like this as most of the drivers here don respect any road rules apart from the one anything goes. In and around bustling Kuta and the capital Denpasar was very stressful as hundreds of scooters
Cool Local Man
South East Balirush past you from all directions, and the drivers of big cars believe they own the roads and will beep incessantly until they either run you over or you get out of their way.
First stop was to the east of the island near the rice paddies of Tirta Ganga. The ancient temples surrounding it were intricately carved with a quite unique vibe. It feels worlds away from the tourist mad Kuta and starts to embody much more of an Asian feel. It was quite relaxing to sit amongst the palms of water palace sipping the local jasmine tea.
The next day we headed more north to visit the area of Kintamani where you can find great views of Mount Batur from the top quality restaurants that serve excellent buffets of some of the best dishes you can find on the island. After an overfilling lunch we hopped down to the base of the volcano to visit one of the hot springs where I vegetated until my stomach had digested the huge feast that preceded. Everything was going splendid but of course no Bali travel story is without its “quirks”. The bike we had was starting
to play up and couldn really make it up hills and the one back to Kintamani was very steep. Half way up the hill the bike couldnt go any further so Paulina got off and with the less weight it was slightly easier to get back to the top. Luckily a friendly local ( who just happened to be selling tours to the volcano ) came and gave Paulina a lift back to the top of the hill. The next morning she was off bright and early to go to the volcano whilst I found a bike mechanic who could hopefully fix our dodgy Balinese bike.
The bike man I found was very friendly and kindly told me the bike was screwed and needs a complete overhaul but fixed it enough so we could continue our journey as long as we didn try to go up any big hills.
We bade him farewell and followed his advice. Fortunately the next part of the journey was downhill but this time it was the police and not the bike that gave us more trouble. Apparently, in Bali an international drivers license is needed and was a small detail
the bike lender didn inform me on and was something I didn have. After a little interrogation the policeman kept stating that we can sort this out here without trouble. Picking up on his subtle indications I slipped him the equivalent of $10 of which he was excessively happy ( later realising $5 would have been enough ) I was simply relieved that we were allowed to continue on our way. This is Bali..
The journey down to the north coast was pleasant passing plenty of tropical hillsides and rice paddies with only the occasional noisy truck filled with piglets obstructing our path. On the outskirts of Singaraja the major port to the north we came across another big problem, on attempting to fill up with some petrol I realised that there was no key in the ignition and it had fell out somewhere on the journey down the mountain. Now it had struck me why I had to keep the key strap across the mirror but it was a little too late now! I started screaming obscenities and going over endless scenarios of how we were going to get the bike or us back to Kuta. A
local man overheard my plight and after explaining my situation he smiled and said that we can easily get the key made in the nearby city. Feeling slightly relieved we had just enough fuel to make it into town where a local key man went to work frantically analysing, cutting and grinding until about 10 minutes later to my surprise we had a brand new key ready and went off on our way.
The nearby Lovina beach was a great place to relax for a few days. It has been heavily built up for tourists with many hotels and restaurants but no one was around! Due to this we were able to bargain a great price at a beautiful bungalow with an amazing garden with various Hindu gods adorned throughout, one of the nicest places I have stayed. The locals around were always offering guide services or selling something or the other but in the end were happy to talk and share a story or joke with you which was something I rarely found from sellers in other countries that only really saw you as nothing but a dollar sign. The early morning dolphin tour was a joke
and not advisable as it meant hundred of small boats waiting around and at the sight of a pod would all race behind them at such a close range that scared them completely. I was surprised they still hang around the place with such madness yet again this was expected as it was Bali.
The trip back to Kuta was nerve-racking as we trekked up the hills behind the fume ridden trucks unable to overtake but lucky enough to be moving we made it across the mountain range and back down to the new age tourist spot of Ubud.
Ubud was built up greatly in the middle part of last century by various prominent artists that felt the place could be a melting pot of Balinese and western art forms. This can be seen now with the area adorned with a plethora of wooden and stone sculpture stores that have an amazing range of excellent quality sculptures that were extremely original and creative. The unique sculptures are all hand made by the talented carvers that carve all kinds of amazing figures of Bali and Hindi gods and legends of all shapes and sizes. The nearby monkey
forest was a fun spot to see with hundreds of cheeky monkeys attempting to steal your camera and water bottles amongst gorgeous trees and jungle vines intertwined across ancient temples that made it feel like a time warp back to ancient times. Later in the afternoon we made our way back to Kuta for much needed drink and relax far away from the scooter infested roads.
Bali is definitely not like any other place in Indonesia. It is the only island that based around Hindu as opposed to the majority of the islands being Muslim. In saying this, the feel is quite more laid back and relaxed than other parts of Indonesia and the local spirit seems to have a vibe all of its own. So as I sat on the beach watching the sunset on the final night I again felt an air of sadness that I was leaving this wondrous island. Little had changed on the island that left me dreaming about this place for years after I had gone. After dinner with Eka surprisingly, he paid for the bill something I was so accustomed of doing here. I realised that something had changed here, a
lot of the local people are much better off then before. Even though Its people have a charm like no where else I have been, their beautiful smiles and inviting nature is slowly dissipating away with the constant bombardment of western ideals and money that is pulling the people away from each other just like we are doing in the west.
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Hannes Schober
non-member comment
Hey, man! Its amazing to see you still travelling! In 80 month across the world,he? Keep floating on...