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Published: July 21st 2013
And I’m off! My journey began rather roughly. After a tearful goodbye to my mom at YVR, I had finally gotten myself together by the time I had reached the check in desk. I had been living in denial over the past month or so and with so much going on it was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that it will be an entire year before I will once again see my loved ones. Honestly, I barely flinch when leaving for a summer but pulling myself away this time proved to be unexpectedly difficult. The Air Canada attendant scanned my passport, gave me a hard look and said, “I’m afraid I cannot check you in for your flight. It shows that you have a one way ticket to Bali and Indonesian customs specify that a return or onward flight must be booked in advance before entry.” Hmmm... so, my one year trip and all of my travel experience and still, I was unable to even leave Vancouver. In a mad dash I sprinted across the airport to the Fairmont Hotel where in my dishevelled appearance and panicked look, convinced the front desk lady to allow me access to the business centre where I promptly booked the cheapest flight out of Indonesia just to have proof that I wasn’t planning on staying permanently. So much for spontaneity.
The first part of my year long journey begins at a place that I really did not expect to enjoy nor stay any longer than I had to in order to get my travel affairs in order. To me Bali represented what I perceived to be a synthetic version of Indonesia. An island where people who claim to have travelled Indonesia would go but really never see, akin to Cancun in Mexico. My preconceived notions of Bali were partly right, but mostly a striking repudiation of my stubbornness and travel snobbery.
Yes, in more than one location in Bali you are more likely to see more foreigners strolling past 5 star resorts and fancy boutiques than locals however, beyond the synthetic shell of the beach resorts lies a beautiful, humble and spiritual heart that was cheapened by my close minded idea of Bali. Rice farmers seemingly oblivious to the Louis Vuitton purse toting visitors toiled in rice paddies as others peddled their locally made wares aside the dozens of Quicksilver shops. I wonder how many of the locals simply become part of the furniture of Bali, invisible and ignored.
The city of Denpesar was my stepping off point. Exhausted from over 20 hours of flying (without sleep) left me in a fragile and desperate state but also with a sharp focus to get me to my hostel immediately. Too tired to bargain with the myriad of taxis I knowingly was ripped off but arrived at my hostel and crashed immediately.
There is not much to say of Denpesar. It is a rough, dirty and crowded city; one that I would ordinarily avoid. However, cities such as these do have their charms. The restaurants are printed without english, the drivers make no apologies for their erratic and unpredictable driving and locals smile at you when you pass. However, I only stayed as long as I needed to to get my visa extension passed.
I spent the next few days in the touristy town of Seminyak, opting to bypass the party towns of Kuta and Legian which are notorious for their all hours party scene. Maybe later, but for the time being a bit of relaxation on a beach is what I was after. Seminyak was indeed a laid back town, with perhaps more glitz and glamour than Kuta or Legian but also less hassle and noise.
The main attraction of Seminyak is naturally the beach. Not quite the tranquil turquoise that I prefer but instead towering 10’ waves pounded the beach and instigated a “no swim” zone. Nevertheless, I would spend the next three days oscillating between reading books on the beach and attempting to get rid of my embarrassing farmer’s tan and diving head first into the waves much to the chagrin of the hapless lifeguards who eventually abandoned their warning whistles.
Having our fill of the beach, my Dutch travel companion Patrick and I headed to the inland town of Ubud, made famous by the book “Eat, Pray, Love”. Ubud is a pretty town still lined with stylish shops and restaurants but more inhabited now by yuppies in sarongs and yogis with a distinctive Kitsilano feel to it.
Patrick and I rented a scooter and spent hours cruising the countryside through jungles, past rice paddies and eventually made our way to a series of out of the way temples. Wearing a sarong is mandatory wear for anyone entering temples in Indonesia so Patrick and I are now sporting very stylish sarongs although I seem to be completely baffled at how they are actually to be worn which has led to several embarrassing sarong slips. No going commando here.
The temples were a bit underwhelming after visiting Bagan in Mynmar and Angkor Wat in Cambodia, the bar has been set pretty high. Still, they temples were fun to poke around in, all adorned with stone statues of mythical creatures, cats and monkeys. For me though, nothing is as impressive as the enormous banyan trees which seem to be fixtures here.
Along the route we passed Mt. Batur, a volcano that looks to have erupted within the last century and sits within a caldera 30 km wide. Patrick learned that travelling with a geography teacher meant that he would be subjected to many unsolicited geography lessons along the way. The view was amazing and I could not wait to hike it in a few days for sunrise.
The key attraction of Ubud is the monkey forest which (surprise, surprise) is full of curious and troublesome monkey who have developed the skill of a lifelong pickpocket. Having secured our belongings we spent a few hours wandering the forest trails watching monkeys laze by, apparently unimpressed with us. The younger monkeys were still quite curious and would take anyone sitting down as an invitation to climb aboard and do a full body search that would make the NSA proud.
Lastly (and I’m trying to wrap up as this is getting waaaay to wordy), was an arranged hike up Mt. Batur which was what I was looking forward to the most for this trip to Bali. We were picked up at 2.30am and driven half asleep to a coffee plantation where we were jolted awake by a flight of premium coffees grown at the farm where we drank. Nicely caffeinated, we arrived at Mt. Batur where Patrick and I met an Austrian girl, Christina, who would be our hiking buddy. We made excellent time climbing only by the light of our flashlights and made it to the summit in a mere 1.5 hours and just as the first vestiges of light began to shine through.
The sunrise (touted to be one of the best places in the world by the Lonely Planet) did not disappoint in spite of the clouds which obstructed most of the sunrise. Still, we had a brilliant view across a lake to neighbouring Mt. Agung on the opposite side of the caldera and all the way across the sea to Lombok. Along our descent our guides took us to vents along the side of the caldera where more pickpocket monkeys patted us down and posed for pictures.
Early the next morning we left Ubud and Bali for the neighbouring island of Lombok which promises to be quieter and more remote. Still, I am not sure what Lombok holds but that is part of the adventure right?
Damn, that was wordy. Bonus points if you kept at it 😊 Brevity is what I will work on next!
*pictures will be included later. Uploading pics has been adventure itself.
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JC
non-member comment
Brevity, schmevity
Go long, Ryan. If you've got the time and the connectivity, write on. With a year to go, you'll hone your posts naturally without needing to add the stress of writerly thought to your travels. Besides, posts only feel long when people can't write. You're not one of those.