Advertisement
Published: November 26th 2023
Think first your idea, for regrets are useless… ~ Indonesian Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were exploring the outskirts of
Ubud– by road and mountain bike.
Location Ubud is a bustling mountain town in central Bali.
Transport We were travelling to Ubud’s northern fringes in a minibus, cycling for a couple of hours through the countryside, then heading northeast to Sideman in a minibus.
Accommodation We checked out of Puri Padi (our accommodation in Ubud for the past three days).
Cuisine …Breakfast (Puri Padi, Ubud)…
The open-sided dining area at Puri Padi was small and intimate. We were offered a choice between two breakfast options – American or Indonesian. This was our third (and final) Puri Padi breakfast, and I’d favoured the Indonesian option each morning. I enjoyed
nasi goreng (stir-fried rice) with a plate of fruit, orange cordial and tea. It was a basic breakfast, but the
nasi goreng was freshly cooked. You could hear the metal spoon on the wok in the tiny kitchenette behind us.
…Lunch (Warung Pondok Bali, Tampak Siring)…
We arrived at this small local eatery at the end of our mountain bike tour. We settled at a table in an open-sided dining area overlooking lush rice fields and ordered the
following dishes:
>
gado gado (Indonesian salad with peanut sauce)
>
kakul satay (snails on skewers with a peanut dipping sauce).
The
gado gado was good, and while the snails in the
kakul satay were a bit gelatinous and chewy, they were fresh from the adjoining rice fields, which made the meal even more local. The cold Bintang beer was also very welcome, especially after the bike ride. The eatery had a resident kitten (who was very cute) and a resident dog (who was very wary of strangers). They shared a fascinating relationship.
Highlights …Village cycling tour…
We clambered into our minibus and headed northward to a very small rural village where we started a cycling tour. We selected a bike, adjusted the seat, sat through a quick safety check and headed off on a rural road with a gentle and steady downhill incline. We passed small dwellings on the roadside, where young children waved and yelled as we sped past. Occasionally we would detour through lush green foliage, where the tracks were narrow and the tree branches were low. This was an absolutely fantastic experience. We rode along narrow tracks between rice fields, which often were muddy
and uneven. I was in mountain biking heaven.
We stopped at a local family home, which was surround by fruit trees – mandarins, guavas, bananas, chillies and black beans. There were also chickens, roosters and cows. It was a very local experience. We looked inside one of the small family rooms, and we also sampled some mandarins straight from the trees – which were quite nice. Our cycling guide, who had an ever-so-slightly inflated sense of his own self-importance, decided this was an ideal time to deliver a very opinionated monologue on the pursuit of happiness. It was amusing to witness the dispersion of the cycling group. Some rolled their eyes and walked off immediately. Others fabricated a distraction and awkwardly disappeared. A few stayed and listened politely, not wanting to appear rude. What did we do? Disappeared awkwardly. I’m not a fan of unsolicited life advice, and I wasn’t in the mood for a pep-talk on personal fulfilment. I just wanted to ride my bike!
We continued on. For the remainder of the tour we drifted effortlessly downhill on narrow bitumen roads, with the occasional detour through overgrown fields on tapered dirt tracks. It was real cross-country
riding, and I loved it. After a while the landscape started to change, and the road started to widen. The traffic increased considerably, as did the housing density. We were approaching a larger village. We crossed a very busy double lane road, sped down a steep bitumen incline and pulled into Warung Pondok Bali – our lunch destination. It had been an enthralling cycling tour of Ubud’s outer verges, and one I will fondly remember.
Lowlights …Touristic rice fields…
En route to the starting point of our cycling tour, we stopped off at the Abien Desa Rice Terrace, about 20 minutes’ drive from Ubud’s main town centre. I’ve described this popular destination as a ‘touristic rice field’, because it felt so unreal. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been manufactured deliberately for a viewing audience. Lush green rice terraces cascaded into a deep gorge. They were so incredibly green they almost seemed artificial. Without the tourist infrastructure, this would have been extraordinary. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get past the tourist infrastructure. Swinging chairs with women in flying dresses; bamboo pods with women in flying dresses; viewing platforms with women in flying dresses… there were just too many flying
dresses!
We snapped some great photos, but I could easily have missed this experience.
SHE SAID... I woke on our last morning in Ubud with a sense of excitement about travelling to the town of Sidemen later that day. However, we had a few activities around
Ubud first. Our last breakfast at Padi Puri Hotel was identical to every other morning – a choice of an American or Indonesian breakfast. Andrew and I had already tried both the options on the Indonesian menu, but the French toast I’d sampled from the American menu had been so bad that I stuck with the
mee goreng (fried noodles) again. The only real highlight of the breakfasts had been the fruit platters – watermelon and pineapple on earlier days, and papaya and pineapple on this one – they were perfectly ripe and delicious.
Despite the mediocre breakfasts, on the whole, I had enjoyed our stay at Padi Puri Hotel. The location wasn’t too far from the centre of town, but was far enough from the tourist density to have a nice local feel about it. And our room had been quite comfortable. However, there was one weird aspect
to the hotel that I haven’t mentioned yet… the man in black!
We’d noticed this guy on our first day – he was barefooted and had black bike shorts and a black sports top on. He had a very strange vibe about him, made even more so by the way he’d stare at us as he walked past. We initially assumed he was just an odd guest, but then realised he was either the owner or the manager of the hotel. He’d set himself up in a sort of open office space in a corner of a small area near the breakfast pavilion. He always wore the same attire, always had bare feet and always stared openly and weirdly at all the guests. We only saw him talking to the staff twice, both times to ask for a flask of something from the kitchen. I thought I heard a northern European accent, but I couldn’t be sure. We were bizarrely intrigued by him… but he also gave me the creeps. He was one of the reasons we couldn’t leave the curtains open or the terrace door ajar (on our ground floor room) – he would walk past regularly… and
stare in! 😱
Anyway, back to our last day in Ubud. We checked out and piled into our minibus at 8:30am. There was an included bike ride that morning that was supposed to last two to three hours, and I was very unsure about doing it. My riding skills are very rusty, and the notion of riding on narrow rough paths and busy roads had me feeling even more apprehensive. I decided to check out the bike set-up etc. before I definitely decided either way.
However, first we had a brief stop at the UNESCO World Heritage listed Abien Desa Rice Terrace (which is part of the extended Ceking/Tegallalang Rice Terraces). It was about a 15-minute drive from Ubud. Thought to date back to the 9th century, these fields utilise Bali’s ancient Subak irrigation system. This cooperative system ensures equitable water distribution for all the farmers by utilising a complex network of aqueducts, bamboo pipes and underground tunnels. It sounded pretty amazing.
When we realised the rice fields we’d come to see had a carpark and ticket booth, we braced ourselves for crowds. Luckily, we arrived early and it wasn’t too bad. As I mentioned in an
earlier Ubud blog… Bali’s unique beauty attracts the crowds, but the crowds invariably kill the unique beauty. I’m sure there’s a Shakespearean analogy or some philosopher’s quote that addresses this absurd irony! 😄
There is absolutely no doubt the beautifully terraced rice fields cascading down these narrow steep hills are utterly stunning. I also loved how the occasional coconut tree (towering above the terraces) and the random farmer’s huts added further elements of texture and contrast. However, the iconic rural beauty of these rice fields has sadly attracted a line of restaurants with decks and cafés with infinity pools to lure people to their businesses. The tacky factor was pretty hideous, but who am I to deny people the right to make money out of tourism wherever they can?
We walked down steep ramps and steps to access the viewing decks. Before I noticed the rice terraces, my attention was drawn by the numerous photo opportunity pods and swings around the slope. I couldn’t help laughing. I was okay with the small pods because they didn’t really block the view of the terraces, but the large ‘jungle swings’ were every bit as showy and garish as they sound.
And to add to the ‘show’, it attracted women who wanted the flying dress experience. For a moment I was totally sidetracked by the graphic phenomenon – women lining up in their hired ‘flying dresses’ while the young blokes managing the swing yelled instructions to the person or couple already on the swing. It really was a circus (and a safety hazard)… and all for an Instagram photo to feed society’s princess complex.
Anyway, back to the real reason we were there. We were pretty lucky to have visited the terraces when the fields were super bright green with mature rice plants. However, I’m sure the view would be lovely regardless of the season. Personally, I preferred to view the terraces from the paths just above the rice fields. The viewing decks that were higher up didn’t really present the gradient of the hills and terraces to full advantage. Plus, I much preferred the feeling of being immersed in the landscape than looking at it from afar.
After we took some photos of the rice fields, we turned our attention to the swings and flying dresses while we waited for the rest of the group to return to
the agreed meeting point. A few of us were discussing the incongruity of not really liking the tawdry setup but still taking photos of the brightly coloured flying dresses in full flight. It was quite funny until one of the group members decided to make a comment about taking photos of people without their permission! Er... what? The people on the swing were not at all recognisable from where we were, plus they were engaged in the biggest show of exhibitionism while virtually shoving themselves into people’s photos by being positioned just below the viewing decks.
Andrew and I laughed it off for the ridiculous statement it was, but I couldn’t help but mention the absolute irony that this very person had been taking (and continued to take) close up photos of everyone without their expressed permission. Hmmm. This was one of a few incidents that day that made us realise there was potential for issues within this group, and it was only Day 2! So we made a swift decision to take a low-key approach and stay out of the drama. This strategy had held us in good stead on the rare occasions when the blend of personalities
hadn’t quite worked in previous groups.
After our very mixed experience at the rice terraces, we drove further into rural Ubud. The scenery was gorgeous. We met the bike crew, and while they carried out the safety briefing, I tried out the bike. After a few minutes I decided it wasn’t for me, so I took up the option of riding in the minibus that would follow the riders for most of their ride.
After everyone had checked their bikes and donned their helmets, the ride began. There was a lead guide riding at the front, Susi (our group leader) rode at the back of the pack, a support car followed Susi, and our minibus followed behind the support car.
Our minibus driver Gusti was a lovely man, and although he was surprised that I’d opted out of the ride, he was very sweet and tried his best to entertain me while we drove. At first, we chatted about Australia and Indonesia, and his life in Bali. He told me about his family, and his life as a driver. He was also excited that the area we were in was famous for a particular type of guava
(called jumbo), and he stopped whenever he saw a tree with ripe fruit. We called it our ‘jumbo tour’, and we munched on these great big white guavas as we drove along.
The narrow rural roads went through farms and past family gardens. We passed farmers hard at work in the lush green rice fields, while flags fluttered in the wind around small village shops. Small shrines laden with flowers and incense dotted the roadsides. We followed the bikes when we could, and at other times we sat and waited on the side of the road while they cut through a field. I was happy to be able to walk small stretches of the rural roads while we waited for the riders. I could easily spot Andrew as he tore across the fields in absolute glee – he was very much in his happy place! 😊
At one of these stops, Paniz (one of the group members) joined us in the minibus. She had tumbled on a narrow path and decided to sit out the rest of the ride in airconditioned comfort.
Soon after this we stopped at a small farmhouse on a mandarin orchard. The lead
bike guide decided to give us a briefing on Balinese culture and family structure. He probably meant well, but his talk turned into a very condescending speech on ‘happiness and how to achieve it’. He preached about how ‘people who have everything’ (he clearly meant us) are still unhappy, but poor people in Bali (gesturing to the very basic room he’d led us into) are happy. H also told us he was very satisfied with his life because he doesn’t want much. I think I know what he was trying to say, but his delivery left a lot to be desired. It was weird and uncomfortable to say the least.
Andrew and I quietly slipped away under the pretext of taking photos of the mandarin trees and the resident rooster! A couple of others joined us, and our mutual eye rolling said it all. I was glad that we weren’t the only ones perturbed by his monologue. One of the group members later told me she’d complained to Susi about the incident.
Eventually, we were invited to walk through the mandarin orchard. It was an organic farm and the understorey of the trees was planted with other crops
– mostly chillies. Apparently, the bugs that destroy the mandarins are repelled by the chilli plants. We were thrilled to be told that we were allowed to pick any fruit we wanted. However, it wasn’t as easy as it looked. It was difficult to judge the ripe mandarins as their colour when ripe wasn’t obvious – a subtle mottled green and orange. Susi had an eagle eye for getting the perfectly ripe ones… but I was swayed by my predisposition to equate ‘orange’ with ‘ripe’, and kept finding myself biting into horribly overripe fruit. Susi was lovely and shared her stash of perfect fruit with us. The farm also extended into an orchard of guava trees, (sadly their guava fruit wasn’t yet ripe) and a plantation of clove trees.
The clove flower buds were drying on mats in the sun, and given how pungent the cloves we get at home are, I was surprised that there wasn’t even a hint of clove fragrance in the air. They ranged from green to pink to red, and I assumed their oils (and fragrance) increases as they dry into those hard little dark brown pins we are used to handling.
Before
we left the farm, I asked for Susi’s help to pick some mandarins for Gusti as a fair exchange for the guavas he’d been picking for me. We resumed our minibus trip and had a couple more roadside stops while waiting for the group to ride through more rice fields. Paniz and I chatted while we waited. At one of these stops, all three of us were astounded to see a guy on a motorbike ride pass with a dog sitting on the back seat. The dog was holding the guy around the middle with his paws, just like a human would! Sadly, none of us were quick enough get a photo of it!
The bike ride (and our minibus trip) came to an end at our lunch stop in the town of Tampak Siring. We had to navigate a very busy and steep downhill road leading to the restaurant, and without blinking an eye, the guy from the support car walked into oncoming traffic and stopped everyone with a raised hand until all the riders were safely at the restaurant. The drivers obeyed him without even a glimmer of road rage. I admire the calm nature of drivers
on the roads in Indonesia.
While my experience of the rural villages was from a very different angle, and from much further away, than Andrew had experienced from the saddle of his bike… I think my enjoyment of the villages, the small lanes and the rice fields was of a similar (but much less sweaty) nature.
Lunch was at Warung Pondok Bali, a small local restaurant which was picturesquely surrounded by rice fields. Andrew ordered the
gado gado (salad of raw, blanched and steamed vegetables with eggs, potato, tofu and tempeh, served with a peanut sauce dressing), and it was probably the best
gado gado of the trip so far. And after much indecision, I decided to order the
kakol sate (snail satay). I only had the courage to order this dish because Susi recommended it – the small snails from the surrounding rice fields were as fresh as it got. Having only ever had snails drenched in garlic butter (
escargot), I was eager to taste this dish that is commonly eaten by rice farmers in Bali. The snails had a soft but muscular texture, and the predominant flavour of the satay was smokiness (from the grill). It
was quite tasty, and I would definitely order it again!
The warung had a resident white kitten who adorably colour matched the resident white dog! They may have looked like siblings, but their personalities were polar opposite. The kitten couldn’t get enough of our attention, and I didn’t need much encouragement to cuddle it! The dog on the other hand didn’t trust any of us, and he made it clear that he couldn’t wait for us to clear off his patch as soon as possible. I’m fairly sure the dog was deaf, and I think this added to his mistrust and anxiety of strangers. After refuelling with lunch and getting my fill of cuddles from the kitten, we got back into the minibus and headed for the hills… to the village of Sidemen.
Our stay in Ubud had started off as a bit of a mixed bag for me, but over the days I really warmed to it. The experience of seeing more and more of its local side was the main reason for my change of heart. Ubud has a visible connection to traditional arts and culture, and wears its Balinese royal heritage very proudly. There is something quite fascinating about the duality of a town that’s full of frenetic markets, shops and restaurants, but is also within shouting distance of jungles full of monkeys and serene rural life full of lush green rice terraces! Ubud has an undeniable magic about it… and if I could only ignore the weighty tourist factor, I would love to plan an extended stay in one of those laid-back arty villages on the fringe of town. 😊
Next we travel northeast to Sidemen, a rural gem in East Bali.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.12s; Tpl: 0.019s; cc: 19; qc: 38; dbt: 0.042s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
Ake Och Emma
Ake Dahllof and Emma Holmbro
Rice terraces
The rice terraces are just lovely to look at. They are a world heritage (not because of their beauty) for a good reason. /Ake